The Syracuse Journal, Volume 3, Number 35, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 29 December 1910 — Page 6

Syracuse Journal SYRACUSE, - - IND (TWICE ’ USED MANUSCRIPTS Original Writing on Palimpsests la ’ Now Deciphered In Europe by the Aid of Photography. Before the days of books, parchments became so costly that economl!cal scholars erased more or* less perfectly what had been written, and used them a second time. In this manner some highly interesting and (valuable manuscripts have been lost Ito the world. But in many cases the ancient characters are still faintlf visible. Twice used manuscripts ar« called palimpsests, and many modern scholars have strained thier eyes in the effort to decipher the original writing. Os late years photography has been successfully applied in Germany and France for this work. The color of the faded ink of the older writing bn a palimpsest is yellow. A photograph 'jf such a manuscript was made Ji rough a yellow screen. The result •was a negative on which the old writing! was barely discernible, being a little darker than the background, while the later black writing was found to appear distinctly as white letters. IjJext an ordinary negative on a bromide plate was made, and from this was produced a transparent positive on which both writings appeared dark and about equally distinct. Then the transparency was superimposed on the first negative, so that the dark letters of the later writing covered the light letters, representing the same writing in the negative. They were thus eliminated, being indistinguishably merged with the general dark background produced by the combination of positive and negative. But the earlier characters, i since they were dark in both cases, appeared in the combination intensely i black and distinct. ! Missionary Life on the Congo. Father Oomen returned > from the conference in Stanleyville and said I should go with him and thus make my first journey. We started jon July 30. In the evening our was upset by two hippopotami. We could not take our iron boat, for we had no paddjers left. Owing to lack of means we had to dismiss nearly all our workmen. Three men who wene with us in ojur light boat were drowned. Had we been able’ to use our iron boat this would not have happened. We were saved, but nearly everything was lost. Only a case with church requisites was — found, but all were spoiled excent my rbhuiice. Our lives were saved through the care of our catechist and some good swimmers. We passed the night on an island. .Happily I had a bottle of quinine in rhy pocket and this saved us from fever. Fortunately we found a dry spot, but we could not find any means of making fire. I lost almost all the Outfit I got on leaving Mill Hill and a mosquito net which Mill Hill could not afford and which I bought myself. The canteen of Father Meyers fend his portable bed are also lying at, the bottom of the river. I Want almost every article of clothing, since they were lost dr given by me to Father Meyers, Whose outfit was worn out (years ago — Father van de Seyp, in thfe Tablet. Picks His Stamp. Dinny walked into a ppstofflee one day and told the clerk he would like to see some stamps. “What stamps do you want?” asked (he clerk. : “Well,” says Dinny, “let me see something in red.” The clerk pulled out Several large sheets of two-cent stamps. and turned to Dinny, asking “How many?” Dinny leaned over the desk, took hold of several sheets, compared fth pm, took them out to the front! door, where there was more light, and then, handing the sheets back to the clerk, pointfed to a stamp about as near to the center of the sheet as it feould be, and said: ! “I’ll take that one!” “fDeserving of Promotion. ! Sol Sage, superintendent of transportation, recently recqmmended a man in the Lake employ for lan increase in pay. Mr. Gage and this employe engaged in some correspondence over*®, technical detail of some transportation regulation. In reply to Mr. Gage’s third letter this letter came: “Instead of clarifying the situation, your letter of yesterday serves rather ’to obfuscate it.” ! “Any servant of a great corporation who can use the word ‘obfuscate,’ and use it right, deserves more than | S6O a month, and I am going to see that he gets it," says Mr. Gage.— Cleveland Leader. ' Homesick. “Gee, Si, but I wuz hfemesick when I I went to th’ city!” “Gosh! Was yer? How homesick?” “Well, I stood on th’ corner till I seen a car marked ‘To the Barn’ an’, 'by gum, I took it.”—Cleveland Leader. ; A Suggestive Name. “Why did you name your yacht Ruuor?” “Because I wanted something about her which would be sure to keep het l afloat.” ’ / ...' ...Il' **

New Neuraof tlesterdmj - -■ .by IE-

Famous Quarrel Explained.

'Hitherto Unpublished Version of the Real Case of Thomas C. Platt’s Resignation From tFfe Senate Given by E. J. Ed bards. i In a recent number of a popular magazine the late Thomas C. Platt tells, In his autobiography, his version of the situation that led him and Roscoe Conkling to resign from the United States senate a few weeks after President Garfield had sent to that body the nomination of Judge William H. Robertson as collector of the port of New York. In one place the senator says that when he learned that the man who had been Instrumental in defeating the Grant movement Tor a third-term nomination had been favored of the president without the knowledge and approval of the New York senators, who had fought for Grant’s nomination, He, Platt, walked over to Conkling and exclaimed: “I shall send my resignation to Governor Corneil tonight.” Then the two went Into conference, Conkling Insisting “that we should wait and fight it out in the committee to which the Robertson nomination had been referred.** But, “I finally induced Conkling, on May 14, to join me in offering our joint resignations.” Why did Senator Platt not desire to “fight it out in the committee” to which this nomination, which was so distasteful to him, had been referred? Because “we have been sp humiliated as United States senators from the great state of New York,” is the reason he gives. That may have been the reason in part, perhaps, but as the belief is quite general in old-time national political circles that Senator Platt did not reveal all he knew about the Robertson incident in his autobiography, I am telling today a hitherto unpublished version of the real reason of Platt’s resignation, and I tell it on the authority of the late Col. John R. Van Wormer. “The real, and not the ostensible reason of Mr. Platt’s resignation from the United States senate dates back to the closing days of 1880 and the first days of 1881 when, prior to the Republican legislative caucus at Albany, the party leaders wete busily engaged in trying to determine upon the man to succeed Francis Kernan, a Democrat, in the United States senate,” said Colonel Van Wortner. “That legislature was Republican by a safe majority, and, therefore, Mr. Kernan oould not be re-elected. “Now, there was a strong element of the party in favor of the election of Richard Crowley, who had represented one of the New York districts in congress for a number of years. ‘Dick’ was a very popular man. He was a very strong Stalwart, the name of the party faction headed by Conkling. “But there was a wing of the party, under the leadership of Chauncey De-

Appeal That Got $50,000,000

How the Bankers of the East Re- |> sponded Instantiate Secretary - Salmon P. Chase’s Call for Financial Aid. The late George S. Coe of New York end New Jersey was one of the great bankers of United States at the tim of the civil war and for twenty yea; thereafter. During the first two year., of the war he was more intimately associated with the Lincoln administration on the financial side than any other of the country’s prominent bankers of that period. Os course, he thus came into close and intimate contact with Salmon P. Chase, who has gone down in history as ope of the country’s great secretaries of the treasury. “For a number of years before he became a member of Lincoln’s cabinet I had conceived a high admiration for Mr. Chase,” said Mr. Coe to me when old-time finance was under discussion, “but not until some months after the outbreak of the civil war was I privileged to meet him, and that meeting resulted in one of the most dramatic Incidents in connection with big finance of which f have personal knowledge. “You may remember that when President Lincoln’s administration began the government was almost in a bankrupt condition. Its credit was very low, and there was practically no gold in the treasury. Yet, if the north were to have an army adequate to cope with the resources and determ ; ation of the confederacy it was ah lutely necessary for the government i have money to pay that army, to pur chase supplies and equipment for it. “At the* height of the uncertainty over the government’s financial condii tion, following the outbreak of war, the bankers of the east —New York, Philadelphia and Boston —received an Intimation that the secretary of the treasury was anxious to meet them in confidence, for he had a message of great importance to communicate to them. An appointment was at once made for Secretary Chase to meet us in the directors’ room of the bank of Which I was then president

* —-— pew, which, while not exactly opposed to Senator Conkling, was disposed to be friendly to Judge William H. Robertson, who had taken such a leading part in blocking Conkling’s plans for a third-term nomination for Grant. This Depew-led wing was rather favorably disposed towards the nomination Os Tom Platt for senator. “But when we who were backing Crowley heard that Levi P. Morton, who, it was thought at that time, would be secretary of the treasury under Garfield, looked with favor upon Platt’s candidacy, we at last had a meeting with Platt. At that meeting we told him that if he would pledge himself not to make any war upon Judge Robertson for upsetting the Stalwarts’ plan to nominate Grant — \f he would not encourage any further factional disturbances in the party—wt- would throw the Crowley support to nlm, and thus assure him of the senatorial nomination and election. “5t would be impossible to conceive of any more earnest assurances than Mr. Platt then gave us. He declared he was sick and tired jof factional disturbance and wanted to bring about a general reconciliation, and with that pledge made to us Mr. Platt w&s able to secure a sufficient number of Votes

Confession of John J. Ingalls « —

How the Brilliant Kansan ,Told E. J. Edwards That He Could Project Himself Into the Future and Determine Coming Events. In midsummer of 1883 I -was on my way to the New Mexican ranch of Stephen W. Dorsay, former United States senator from Arkansas, and during the national campaign of 1880 prominently before the country as secretary of the Republican national com--1 mittee. It was a visit that, resulted in Senator Dorsay exposing the manner in which he had collected and used $200,000 in new two-dollar bills for the 1 purpose of making the state of Indiana return a majority for the Republican candidates. 1 Sometime during the night the train t on which I traveled between St. Louis and Kansas City was held up for several hours by a freight wreck dead ahead. The confusion Incident to the clearing of the track caused all the passengers in tho sleeping car to be ! astir early in the morning. That is ! all except one, at the rear end of the I car, and not until nearly ten o’clock ■ was there a head thrust between the ’ curtains of the lower berth, revealing i ths late riser as none other than Sen- > ator John J. Ingalls of Kansas. “Senator, you are a late sleeper,” , I said a little later in the smoking - compartment, “and, apparently, a very

- - — "There, prompt almost to the second, Mr. Chase appeared on the day and hour set and we were Introduced one after the other to him. The gracious dignity of the man, a certain majesty of manner—l do not know how better to express it—the great intellectuality revealed in his face, the :oble poise of his head, his entire peronality, greatly impressed me, and I am certain that every other banker in that' room was equally impressed. “Soon after the introductions were over and a few casual remarks had been made, Secretary Chase began to deliver his message. Ho spoke quietly, In a low tone of voice, but every word was distinctly uttered; his was one of the most attractive voices I have ever heard in private conversation, and then it was that I understood what his great charm as a public speaker was. And this was the message he brought to us, substantially in these very words: “ ‘Gentlemen, the government of the United States is in need of gold. It is in greater need of gold than of an army. This is so because it will not be difficult to raise whatever size army we may find necessary to save the Union. Enlistments will proceed, are proceeding, all over the north. But what are we to do with an army unless we can feed it, clothe it, provide it with equipment and ammunition? “ ‘Now, gentlemen, I am no financier. It is my duty, under the law, to : administer the finances of the couny, but it is no part of my duty, nor it within my power, to raise money ntil congress gives me that power. You are men of finance. It Is your business to know how to raise money. I appeal to you, having nothing to offer except the credit of the government, and the preservation of the Union for fifty millions in gold. You know how to secure that gold. I shall know how to make wise and efficient use of it. This, gentlemen, Is the message I had to deliver to you.’ ’’ Mr. Coe leaned forward in his chair. “He got the gold on the Instant,” he said, emphatically. (Copyright, 1910, by J. Edwards. Rights ReservadU g

to place him In the United States senate. “A few weeks after Mr. Platt had taken his seat, President Garfield, unknown to the senator, sent to the senate the nomination of Judge Robertson as collector of the port of New York. The very same Robertson who had led the bolt of the New York state delegation at the Chicago convention which defeated the nomination of General Grant, had been named for the most important political fed* eral office In the Empire state! “Tom Platt was in a fix. I have heard that the night following the announcement of the nomination he did not sleep a wink. He had more to ba worried about than Senator Conkling, even, for there was that pledge to us old Crowley men. It was that that bothered Tom Platt most, and it was that that finally forced him to reach his unalterable determination to resign. ‘I can’t vote to confirm Robertson’s appointment,’ w-as his conclusion. ‘But, on the other hand, I am under pledge to those .who made my election as senator possible not to oppose that appointment with my vote. I am between two fires. There is nothing left for me to do but to resign from the senate.’ “That,” emphasized Col. Van Wormer, “is the real reason of Platt’s resignation from the senate.” (Copyright, 1910, by E. J. Edwards. AU Rights Reserved.)

sound one. All the rest of us in the car were up early owing to the freight wreck that has made us so late.” The brilliant Kansan smiled. “My method of spending the night in a sleeping car differs from that of most persons,” he said. “I usually go to bed an hour or so before midnight. Then, while I sink Immediately into a physical lethargy that is luxurious, mV mind becomes very active. This mbntal activity seems to bring to the surface, so to speak, the sub-con-scieus quality that is in eyery human being, and it continues until about two o’clock, when I sink into a profound slumber that will last for eight hours if the train schedule permits. “NOW, when my mind thus becomes active—and it does so only in a sleeping car—l find that I am studying the psychological side of my nature. You may have heard it said that I am an atheist, or an agnostic, but both accusations are absolutely untrue. I am a profound believer in a first, allpowerful and ever-controlling Cause, and am persuaded that it is a conscious Cause. But there is much that we do not know, and we cannot know, since the mind is mortal, and. therefore, reasoning is confined within mortal limitations. Yet, as my mind is active as I He in my berth, I find myself absolutely convinced, and not by any process of reasoning, that the vital, conscious element in my nature existed before my birth, and must exist after my death. I—thais to say, that part of me which 1 recognize, my consciousness—has existed from the beginning and will exist forever.” For a few moments Mr. Ingalls sat looking thoughtfully out of the window. - “And as I have pondered upon this,”’ he continued, “I have found it possible to project myself into the future; I know, for instance, at what time my service in the United States senate will end, although I do not know why it will end. To know that would involve considerations entirely. apart from my projected consciousness. And I also know, or am convinced that I know, the time of my death, although I do not know the place or cause. It is a consciousness that has given me great peace of mind. It has absolutely relieved me from all sense ol personal danger. Ah, the soul, as distinguished from the. intellect, is the marvelous part of our nature! It has never been explained and never will be; it is not a part of our mortality.” ' Seventeen years later, with perfect serenity, John James Ingalls approached his end. And I have often wondered since then whether his great peace of mind as he faced thq grim reaper of us all would justify the impression that he had predicted accurately the time of his death. (Copyright, 191st, by E. J. Edward*. All Rights Reserved.) Some Big Fires. Among the fires which have entailed a loss of $10,000,000 and upward in less than two and a half centuries past may be mentioned: London, 1666, $33,650,600; Smyflna, Turkey, 1772, $20,000,000; Constantinople and suburbs from 1729 to 1870 a dozen fires ranging from $10,000,000 to $25,000,000 each; New York, 1835, sl7p 500 000; Hamburg, 1842, $35,000,000; Charleston, S. C., 1861, $10,000,000; Portland, Me., 1866, $10,000,000; Chfe cago, 1871, $165,000,000; London, 1874a $70,000,000; St. Hyacienthe, Quebec, 1876, $15,000,000; St. John, N. 8.,1877, $15,000,000; Kingston, Jamaica, 1882,' $10,000,000; St. John’s, N. F., 1892, $25,000,000; Guayaquil, Ecuador, 1896, $22*000,000; Ottawa, Ont., 1900, $10,4 000’000; Baltimore, 1904? $50,000,000; Toronto, 1904, $12,000,000, and last but by no means least San Francisco, 1904 L 1*50,000,000 or more. '

; The Hermit of : Rocky Hole : ~~1 1 : : I By CLARISSA MACKIE ' Mrs. Stevens panteu into the sittingroom where her boarder was sewing in the sunny bay window. It was Saturday and the school-teacher’s holiday. Grace Winton looked up from her* mending and smiled at Mrs. Stevens’ eager countenance. “You look as if you had news to tell,” she suggested, threading her needle. The other woman tossed aside her knitted shawl and warmed her hands at the drum stove where the applewood smoke curled fragrantly from the cracks. “There’s more news than common,” she wheezed asthmatically. “You’ve heard tell about the hermit of Rocky Hole?” she asked. “I’ve heard the children tell tales about such a person,” admitted Grace, with Interest. “I thought he was a mythical personage—is there really an hermit in Pendleton?” Mrs. Stevens nodded her head emphatically. “I should say there was! Rich, too, and lives in that cave high up on the west mountain Rocky Hole, they call it, because you can’t get anywhere near it without being heard; there are so many rocks around they go tumbling down the hillsides at every footstep you take. He’s mighty unsociable, too, they say.” “Hermits have that reputation, I believe,” said Grace demurely. “Do tell me, is your news about this hermit?” “Yes. You see, he’s been coming here for years. Every spring when the first robin comes that hermit makes his appearance; nobody ever gets very close to see him for he has a big dog to keep folks off. And I don’t know how he gets his foodstuff because he don’t trade in the village —maybe lives on roots and berries and such truck. He’s an old man with a long white beard and he walks with a stick as if he were lame.” “What becomes of him in the winter?” asked Grace curiously. “Some say he goes to the city and plays an organ on the street corner. I’ve heard those folks make lots of “Do Yow Want to Go on a Picnic With Me, Lon?” money. He owns half the mountain, they say. Well, what I was going to tell you about is this: Mr. Lane, the storekeeper, says he believes the old man is sick or dying or something.” “Why?” “Somebody heard him calling for help yesterday morning, some hunter who was passing along the upper road that’s seldom used—it leads almost underneath where the Rocky Hole is. So the man hollered up and asks if anything is the matter. Just then the hermit began to throw stones down on him, round stones, big enough to knock a man senseless. So the hdnter says, says he, ‘Go to the dickens — I guess there ain't much tie matter with you!’ Mr. Lane says there wasn’t any smoke coming from the mountain this morning and he reckons something’s the matter.” “What is going to be done about it? Surely, somebody will go up and see the old man,” said Grace pityingly. “I don’t know who wants to get stoned. Maybe he’s as not he is. Anybody who’d want to live where there wasn’t nobody to talk to must be crazy! There I’ve got a cake to make now to take to the meeting—we’re going to pack a barrel for some of them savages; you want to come. Miss Winton?” The school-teacher was looking off toward the west mountain slopes with misty eyes. She turned her head to Mrs. Stevens. “Not today, thank you,” she said gently. “I’m going on a little picnic this afternoon —with one of my scholars.” “It’s a nice day for a picnic if you’re •well wrapped up. There’s plenty in the pantry to put in your basket and 4 you can help yourself, you know,” said the other hospitably. An hour after dinner, Grace Winton set forth with a covered basket on her arm. She stopped once or twice and made additions to the generous lunch Mrs. Stevens had provided, a can of soup and a glass of jelly from the grocery and a bottle of blackberry wine from the little drug store. Then she walked briskly over tho bridge; turned into the road that led past the mill and hailed tho miller's

little lad who was fishing in the turn- ' bling stream. f “Do you want to s r on a picnic with me, Lon?” she called. “Yes, ma’am,” he called delightedly and after obtaining permission from his mother he joined his teacher and together they walked through the woods where the fallen leaves crisped under foot and where the odor of birch and sassafras smelled strong and sweet. “Lon, do you know the way to the hermit’s cave?” she asked quietly. Lon stared at her with paling cheeks. “You’re not going there, Miss Grace?” he faltered. “Yes, I am, my dear. If you don’t go with me and show the way I must go alone, for an old man is hurt there and perhaps dying. Before we enjoy, our own picnic we must see him. You can turn back now if you want to." She looked at him, confident of his answer. “You can’t go alone, Miss Grace; he might hurt you. I’ll go with you; if he throws stones I’ll —I’ll lam him one!” Lon frowned fiercely at his imaginary foe and thoughtfully cut himself a stout stick with a knobby handle. “Thank you, dear,” said Grace. “I was sure you’d go along to take care of me.” Lon straightened his shoulders and his ears reddened with pride and embarrassment as he led the way through a tangled thicket and by devious other ways until they stood in a narrow path, well defined and covered with a clear white sand. “That leads to the cave,” whispered Lon cautiously. “Me and some fellows found it one day—it comes from over the mountain —I guess that’s the way he goes to and fro. We was after bird’s eggs last summer —there’s millions of birds around here —and the old man came and chased us off." Grace reserved her reprimands for some future date and told Lon to go ahead and she would follow. At last, they stood before the mouth of the cave which opened onto a plateau covered with small loose stones bf various sizes. Their carefully guarded footsteps sent several stones rattling down the hillside with a suprising din. A dog barked hoarsely. “Who is there?” called a feeble voice from within the cave. “Friends!” replied Grace cheerily. “Are you in trouble?” “Yes—fell and sprained my ankle yesterday and I’ve been suffering tortures since then. I’ve tried to get help from outside but everyone acts so confoundedly idiotic every time a stone rattles down th’e hillside that I’d about given it up. Wait a moment please and I’ll come out.” “He’s got a nice voice," whispered Lon to his teacher as they waited for the hermit’s appearance. “Very likely he’s the nicest old gentleman you ever met,” she smiled back at him. “Here he comes now.” With that expression of tenderest pity lighting her face Grace Winton saw a man drag himself painfully from the opening of the cave. Her eyes widened as she realized that this was no old man —young, handsome and athletic looking, tfee picture of health, save for a certain drawn look in his face that intense suffering might have placed there, he half crept, half hobbled to a sitting position in the mouth of the cave and then he fainted dead away. When Grace and Lon had recovered from their astonishment and bent themselves to resuscitate the stranger, the boy spoke: “This isn’t the hermit, Miss “Never mind,” she said absently, aa she propped his head against her shoulder and forced some of the blackberry wine between his lips. “He’s in need of help anyway. Unbandage his ankle, Lon —carefully my dear—there, it is black and blue and dreadfully swelled. Can you fetch water from the stream? Doesn’t it run above here?” Lon dashed away with a pall and when he returned with the icy water he found the young man recovered and rather ashamed of his momentary weakness. Sitting with his injured foot in the cold water he tdld the two that his uncle, the hermit, was none other than Waynewood Stone, wellknown ornithologist who had used the cave as a summer point of observation to’ study his beloved birds. Now that the old man was crippled with rheumatism and confined to his beautiful city home, this nephew, Frank Stone, had come to take his uncle’s place and gather the necessary data for the old man’s forthcoming book of bird-lore. “Now we must get a doctor up to you at once, said Grace, preparing tb leave after Mr. Stone had wrung the story of their coming from her unwilling lips. “And you will want a man to keep house for you if you insist on remaining up here —Mrs- Stevens’ son might come and take care of you.” “I believe I’ll get the doctor to take me down to the hotel in Pendleton,” said Stone thoughtfully. “There ain’t no birds down there,” ventured Lon diffidently. “Leastways not new ones.” “There is one new to me—a winter red bird,” returned Stone without looking at Grace, as she hastened away, her heart fluttering with his warm thanks of appreciation. “I’m glad I’m not an old hermit,” he added to himself as he waited patiently for the coming of the doctor. Months afterward, Mrs. Stevens held up her hands in astonishment. “Land alive, Miss Winton, now that you’re going to marry Mr. Stone, there won’t be no hermit that can live safely on the mountain —all the girls will be going up there to see If he ain’t as rich and good looking as your husband!**

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Occasionally a crooked path leads to a Strait-jacket Buy Mrs. Austins Famous Buckwheat Flour, fine for breakfast, all grocers. How He Lost Out. DeShort —Don’t you—er —think you could learn to love me. Miss Oldgold? Miss Oldgold—Well, I don’t know. DeShort—Of course you can. One la never too old to learn, you know. Miss Oldgold—Sir! The Modern Way. 4 couple of young men on the Market street viaduct the other evening offered a new version of an old saw. After they had passed a couple of au-burn-haired damsels one of the young tnen took his stand at the curb and Razed up and down the bridge. “What are you looking for?” Inquired his companion. Pointing to the red-headed girls, the young man answered: “I’m trying to lee a white automobile." —Youngstown Telegram. Kept Umbrella Thirty Years. . A faithful old umbrella which has .shielded the family of Dr. James A, Mullican of Greenwood avenue from the storms of ‘3O years, was stolen ot Sunday. During the rain on that day the physician lent the umbrella to EL A. Seek, and while the latter was, in a tftore some one stole it. “The umbrella belonged to my father and has been in the family for more than thirty years,” said Doctor Mullican the other night “It has been covered several times. "To persons who are unable to keep same umbrella for more than thirty days this may seem incredible, but It'is true,” concluded Doctor Mullican with a smile. —Chicago Tribune. Stepmother of Mint Julep. Romance and poetry have delighted to weave garlands with which to celebrate and perpetuate the glory of the blue grass in old Kentucky, famed for Its fine horses, beautiful women ans eilnt. Kentucky has been designated as the home of the mint julep, and its colonels have become famous all over the world for the easy and graceful way in which they drink whisky with a little dash of sugar ’ and a sprig or two of mint in order, chiefly tb overcorn'd the necessity for a large amount of water in the beverage. The true Kentuckian doesn’t want his whisky Arowned. It transpires, however, thfit the real home of the mint and the mint julep la right here in Missouri, whose crop as mint last year amounted to 7,653 pounds, or enough to make 1,224,320 Juleps. This amount includes tfee marketed product only, no account having been taken of the countless thousands of juleps which were compounded during the year with a base of the undiluted moonshine whisky that never paid a cent of tax.—St. Louis Star. WONDERED WHY. Found the Answer Was “Coffee." Many pale, sickly persons wonder tm years why they have to suffer so, and eventually discover that the drug—caffeine —in coffee is the main cause of the trouble. “I was always very fond of- coffee and drank it every day. I never had much flesh tod often wondered why I was always sb pale, thin and weak. “About five years ago my health oompletely broke down and I was conlined to my bed. My stomach wak in luch condition that I could hardly take ivfflcient nourishment to sustain life. “During Uiis time I was drinking coffee, dldn’Lihink I could do without it. “After awhile I came to the concliF’’ lion that coffee was hurting me, and Secided to give it up’ and try Postum. [ didn’t like the taste of it at first, but when it was made right—boiled until lark and rich —I soon became fond of It ‘Tn one week I began to feel better. [ could eat more and sleep better. My lick headaches were less frequent, and within five months I looked and felt tike a new being, headache spells entirely gone. "My health continued to improve and today I am well and strong, weigh 148 pounds. I attribute my present health to the life-giving qualities-of Postum." Read "The Road to Wellville.” in pkgs. "There’s a Reason.” Ever reed the above letter? A aew oae appeare from time to time. They are aeanlae, time, ail tiU of feuna fetormt.