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HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Advocate, 1900-2-22, Page 6r'ee Ne/ C,/ aea, 5 Zeed aF4e, Ne"e ert‘'Nftel !3 e! BY ) JOHM eSTRANCIE. nq Peder IE. Pan cootie ight, este, be the Author.] Before a couple of hour's had gone by a white capped nurse in dainty uniform had arrived at the little hone° and had installed herself in charge of the case, and when Mary got home from her work the following afternoon Mrs. Hamilton, had recovered her senses again and was rimounced to be vastly improved. Her firet mumbled evc.a.de were as a deatbknell to Mary's heart. "You— nromised, " she said thickly. "Yes, yes; I have not forgotten," Mary said hurriedly. "Don't think of that, dear; only get well and I will do anything you like." , The sick woman gave a M1111.1111T of satisfaction and. closed her eyes again. Mary turned away and went to the window, where she stood looking out trying to keep herself under control. Her face was white and set, her hands shaking and cold. So her mother had not forgotten; the saceifice would have to be made and she must at no distant time sell herself into a slavery which would be a living horror. And this was the end of all her toil, of all her am- bitions, of all her brilliant hopes and vivid areal:pings! Small wonder that her heart seemed as if it had turned to water within her; that her soul seemed snarab and dead, as if she had lost herself, a deep and treacherous niorass from which she could never be extricated, try and struggle as she would. I need not dwell upon this part of Mary Hamilton's story. The hot and dusty summer days dragged drearily by, each one bringing the inevitable nearer and nearer. Mrs. Hamilton slowly im- proved in health. Mary went to and fro to her work, the white capped nurse re- mained in attendance, and Captain Conway hovered around the little house- hold like a good angel, an angel with a red, weather beaten ,face and with a leery large circumference. The end came all too soon. He spoke to her one evening, told her his hopes and fears—a great many hopes it must be owned anda very few fears it must be confessed. And Mary told him hon- estly that she bad never thought of him before her mother's illness as a possible husband, told him she had never thought ef marrying him or any one else, thank- ed him, with tears in her gray eyes, for his goodness to her mother and promis- ed that -if he would not expect too much ef her she would do her best to be a good and faithful wife to him. Captain Conway's answer was char- acteristic of the man. He told her with all the assurance and confidence of an Adonis 20 years his junior that he was perfectly satisfied with her prom- ises; that he would teach her to love him when once she was really his own. Mary shuddered, but allowed the re- mark to pass in silence, and, if the whole triath be told, let an inward prayer escape her heart that some thun- derbolt might fall and strike ber before that terrible day dawned. Such prayers, however, are mostly utile. Mary's wedding day dawned all too soon, and the warning, "Be not ;afraid with any amazement," rang out ever the heads of an ashen pale bride, who had steadfastly and resolutely re- fneed to allow herself to be decked in bridal attire; a rather nervous and rubi- cund bridegroom, who dropped the ring and mumbled his vows defiantly after the officiating minister; a mahogany faced groomsman and a frail. elderly lady in a mauve silk who leaned upon the arm of a tall young woman in eaurse's uniform. So the sacrifice was completed! To .fory Hamilton, Mary Conway by then, t passed like a hideous dream, only 3;lere was no awakening. "My darling child!" cried her moth- er ,enthusiastically. "I am so happy! My dear child!" "Ian glad, mother," Mary whisper- ed back and wondered the while if God would ever forgive her for the false 'owe she had plighted, the outrage she had done to herself, for being the living eie that she was. And then began a life which was an hourly, daily torture and martyrdom. nehe husband was quick to seethat he had made the gravest of all mistakes, that be had bought the casket, but weld not possess himself of the jewel within,to realize that his wife was his, but that her heart was miles and miles away and would never be his, even though he were to live for a thou - and yeas. He was quick to learn that be would never be the master to teach this particular pupil to conjugate the erb, to love, and the knowleclge, coming ispon his passionate love and admiration (arbor, was as oil poured upon a fierce ame. How can I describe those few weeks hickpassed between the tontine and Captiten Conway's first departure on a oyage to the other side of the world? bey were hideous! Mary, who had reeen awakened also, wes'pose'essed of nly one deeire---to hide the truth from the mother for whose sakashehad sold erself,' to hide from her the knowledge which had coine to her all too surely that the genial, binfl, jovial sailor, with lila frank, hearty ways and his open handed generoeity, was in reality of a (coerse and calculating natute, which had taken cOurit Of every farthing that be had expended and Who looked to /twee payreent and interest for every els& coin, ne bide from her that his geniality too often meant drink, and time itis frank binffneee eves merely the enver for a Vindicative and paesioilate temper ; to hide from her, in short, all that he really and truly Was. It Wee not nail within a few days ef the time fieed for the eailine of Cap- tain Conway's ship that there was ee- tiuuyany open disaereentent between them, and even then the full meaeure of her latuuniation and misery came tipon her like a thnoderclap. It happen- ed that Captain Conway had been ex- plaieing to her how she meet manage about money during his absenee. "The reet is paid," he said. "And you can draw £1.0 a week, which ought to cover the bare expenses. If you fall shot at the end of the month when the wages are due— Are youlistening, Mary?" he broke off in a voice of thunder. "Yes, Edward, of course I ant listen- ing," said Mary with a violent start. "Then what do you want to look like that for? Do you want to make me think you're pining because I am go- ing? Bah I You're enough to sicken a man, yon white faced cat.'' The girl's first instinct was to start to her feet. Her fingers almost without her own will clinched themselves to - "Edward, don't say that I" she began nervottslee. gether, her cheeks were as red as peo- nies until, in her anger at such an in- sult, they faded to the paleness of death Then she remembered her moth- er, the frail, weak, feeble soul who per- sisted in calling Captain Conway her dear boy and in attributing to him every noble and generous attribute that could by any chance be found in the character of any man, and her instinct was to hide it, to smooth things over, to—to go on living the life as she had begun. "Edward, don't say that I" she began nervously "You will frighten my mother." "And if I dol" be cried roughly "It's always mother here, mother there. What do I care whether she's frighten- ed or not?" "You frighten mei" Mary gasped, and in truth she was shaking in every limb, shaking like an aspen leaf in a storm. "I'In glad of that. It's a relief to find I can make you feel something What did you marry me for ?" "You wanted me to marry you," she said unsteadily. "I wanted you! I—I— Yes, and you laid yourself mat to please me"— "My God, no!" she cried sharply, forgetting for a moment her policy of conciliation. And then—I don't like to write it; I don't like to think of it— then there was a blow—a fall—and dead silence, only broken by the deep drawn, gasping sobs of an outraged and broken hearted woman. For a moment he said nothing. Then he seenied to pull himself together, and he put out his hand to help her. "I didn't mean to do that," he said shamefacedly. "I ought not to have done it. You drew it on yourself, Mary, but I'm sorry. Kiss me and be friends." She put his hand aside and rose to her feet without aid, and there they stood facing each other, he flushed and ashamed, she with the mark of his hand upon her face. "You struck mei" she said at last Her whole face and being were changed. From a passive. martyr she had become an accusing spirit. "Yon—struck— roe I" The words hissed out like whips cutting through the air. The man shrank a little as he heard. "I forgot myself," he muttered sul- lenly. "I admit it. I want to be friends." The girl's gray eyes were fixed upon him and seerned, to look into his very soul. "You told me you would teach me to love you," she said with intense scorn. "Your way is rough and ready. I congratulate you upon your success.' "Mary," he burst out. "You never did care—you've cheated me"— "Care—I?" she echoed. "You are strong for a man -1 am not even strong for a girl, for all my life has been pass- ed in sitting at a desk. You may kill me if you like. I dare say you will, and I shall not mind, for at least it will take inc out of this. But at any rate I will tell you one thing. I have hated myself for not caring. I have never ceased to reproach myself for eaving loathed you. Now, with all my heart, I thank God for it." CHAPTER III. HER rase WORD. When Mary Conway tittered those scathing words, "I have never ceased to reproach myself for having loathed, you. Now, with all 'my heart, I thank God for it;" they were followed by ae long, dead silence. She, Slight and frail and aehen white, etood boldlydronting hint, her eyes filled with intensest. scorn and showing no shred of 'the fear with which her heart wee quaking; be, divided between rage and astonish- ment, just touched with shame that lee should have raised his hand to a wunnill, and that wothan his young eviee. ho they stood until at last he found words with which to ;speak. "So you loathe me, do you?" An older or a Wiser woman might have giv,ela a softer answer than leaped to Mary Conway's lips in reply. "Yee, " Ethe said harshly. "Only loathing is too mild a word." "But you married mel You were willing enough to marry roe!" he said, gnawing at his underlip viciously, "Willing I Never!" she flashed onte "1 merino -I yeti, it is tree, with fer ing8 of with a desire to " '"••••• 000000009000904000000000oo FEEDING HOGS, lo o 0 my best to repay you for then:10110y yo haa laid. eut, with et belief flea yo were kind and good if not the lover my heart nor the husband of my iniag nation. I have learned since that the 'was no need of gratitade from me you: that there was no kindness goodness in the help you gave durin my mother's illness; that every day 21 nurse remained, every drop of win my mr other drank, every strawher she ate, was entered into an accoin which I was to pay one day with m very 'heart's blood. Well, you. have let your pound of flesh, you have bottgl your wife, and the bargain is complet the debt all paid. Today you hay broken every bond, every link, every chain, between us. I bear your name; thet's all. 'Is that your last word, Mary?' 'Yes, my last word. No, I am no afraid of you My poor little frail hod is afraid, horribly. desperately afrai of you, but my heart and soul and al that's best of me—never—never— never l' ' "You'll be glad when I'm gone?" "Thankful." "You'll never remember anything o what I did for you?" "I shall always remember you as th man who struck me." ' "You'd like to be free of me?' She drew a deep breath more signifi cant than words. He laughed aloud, I laugh void of merriment, such as on might hear from the fiends in hell. "You'd like me to provide for yo perhaps? To make you a suitable allow auce and clear out myself, eh? To leav you and your old mother"— "Leave my mother out of it!" she cried fiercely ' "Oh, I've no wish tO saY anything against her!" he retorted. "To do her fell justice, she's always been appreci- ative emengh of tete, a thundering, deal more so than you have. Still she's there. She's got to be reckoned with, to be provided for, and you'd like to see her end her days in comfort. "I was satisfied enough with my life before you came and made her dissatis- fied with the provisicn that I was able to make for her. You took away my living. It is but right that you should provide for both. You did nothing with your eyes shut." "Nor you. Well -1 do provide for yon both—.1 shall continue to do so. But there's a side to my part of the bargain. I didn't look to provide for a wife, to say nothing of her mother, and to keep away from her, and won't do it. You've no witness that I struck you. And it wouldn't sound a likely story anyhow. I'll gb away today in- stead of Monday, for I'm s,ore and angry and not master of myself, and neither are you. But I shall come back again. I shall come home again, and you'll re- ceive me as if nothing had happened between us. I'm sorry I forgot myself just now. and for that reason I'll give you till I come home again to pull your- self together in, and after that we will begin again as if nothing lied happen - • "1 shall never begin again as if noth- ing had happened," she exclaimed passionately. "How could I? You struck me. So long as you were only old and rough and—and—distasteful to me, I endured you. But you have gone be- yond"— "You took me for better or worse," he interrupted. . "I know it, but I did not bargain for its being all for woree." "We'll see about that," he said. with a sneer. "It's easy work talking of what one will or one won't do. You've eft yourself in a cleft stick, my fine ittle lady wife, and I think when you onie to facing the world from the very bottom of the ladder with your invalid mother, who has got used to a comfort- lole way of living, you'll find it harder ban you think for. It's cum thing to alk large about breaking loose, and it's nother thing to do it with your handi- er) tied round your neck. Anyway, hat's roy last word. I've made up my mind. It's a case of my will giving way o yours or yours breaking down to mine. I don't intend if there's any reeking down that it shall be on my, ide." He did not give her time to reply, but ve ent out of the room with a great bus - le, and the next moment she heard him iving directions to the servants about is bag,g,age. A few minutes afterward he heard him go out of the house, and hen came the sound of her mother's oice calling to her. "Mary, Mary, where are you?' "Here, mother. Do yen want any- hing?" She ran down into the bright little ntrance hall, to find her mother, who till dragged one leg a little, holding on o the doorpost of the drawing room. "My poor child I My poor, darling hild I diVhat terrible newel" she ex - aimed. She was smartly and daintily ressed and looked very pretty as she ood there. "What terrible news?" asked Mary. or a moment her heart stood still, for e thought that her husband had blurt - d out all the truth in his anger. "What news?" echoed Mrs. Hat:ali- ne "Why, that dear Edward has had telegram which will take him away om us today instead of next week. • ry to bear up, my poor darling!" "Yes, I will try, mother," said Mary, elinge almost ready to let herself go off to wild shrieks of hysterical laughter; the irony of the' situation. '''`e• leo BE 001ITINURD.1 g 1111GGED IIED POLLS 08 of g ,0 Strong' Points et the popukt, re 6 General l'urpose Breed.' to 0 0 or 00000000000000000000000000 g The firet importation, to the United ' Stales or Red Polled cattle leas made o la 1873. Net until 1882, however, did any considerable number 02 them ap- It pear on this side or the Atlautic, says JP W. A. F.5argent of Vermont In The d American Cultivator. 1,t The breed in this country is but little e, known, and there are today many e farmers who have never seen them. They are English cattle and a very old breed --in fact, one of the oldest. We speak in relation to their being. little known in this country from actu- al experience. Farmers in this sectioa have visited our stables and upon see- ing our Red Polled bull, Peter A 12, have said they never heard of such cattle. Again, others confound them with the Polled Angus. The claim Is made by breeders of Red Polled cattle that they are, a general purpose animal. Specialists will de- ride the "general purpose" idea, but we must all allow that tbere are or may be two sides to every question. Tbe meaning implied by the words "general purpose" as applied to Red u 1 1 a a cI st sh to a fr fe in Patter That Will Not Burn. It bas been found possible to make a thin, smooth and strong paper of ae- bestus, which can be employed In the • manufacture of paper lanterns and oth- er articles which need to be at the same time and fireproof. The as- bestus paper can aleo be made water- proof. It is prepared with the same Machinery used for makieg ordinary paner.—Youtb's C.onapanien. -eeeeeenstp- 7eee,,elee, RED POLLED BULL PETER. Polls is that they will produce as many superior milkers as any breed in ex- istence and that those which are not superior milk and butter producers can be very profitably fed into beef. A general description of these cattle Is as follows: They are �f uniform red color. The tip of the tail and udder may be white. When crossed on other breeds, the color is generally transmit- ted. They are hornless. When crossed tvith horned cattle, they Impart this quality so thoroughly that 90 per cent of their progeny are hornless. Out of over 100 cows bred to Peter A 12 we have yet to find the first sign of horns on any of his get, and he has been used for service on Jerseys. Guernseys, Ayrshires and grades. In size they are good, but because of very short legs are deceiving in weight. Mature bulls weigh 1,800 to 2,200 Pounds, some up to 2,400 and 2,800. Mature cows weigh 1,100 to 1,600 pounds and will average 1,200 pounds or over. Our Atolea 13146 at 12 months of age weighed 800 pounds. They are easy keepers, being smooth and fine in bone and muscle, hardy and thrifty, mature early, fatten kindly and make beet' of the very best qual- ity. Their dressed carcass is about 68 per cent of their live weight. They are gentle, docile and intelligent. A bull of this breed that ever becomes cross Is exceedingly rare. They are superior milkers. They give a good quantity of very rich milk, and many of them never go dry. The cows have good udders, with teats of good size. Average milk yield is 6,000 pounds, with individuals running as high as 12,000 pounds in one year. Red Palls are very easily kept. As some breeder has put it, "Red Polls will thrive on what some other breeds of cattle would starve on." We only state a very few of the good qualities of this useful breed. A farmer who is dissatisfied with small, scrawny and scrubby cattle can by the use of a Red Polled bull soon develop his herd into a "thing of beau- ty and joy forever." In other words, he can have in a few years a herd of red cattle all alike, all without horns, all of good size. A large percentage of them will be good milkers and butter peoducers. Here, then, are the points of the Red Polls: Beautiful appearance, good size, healthy, hardy, gentle and docile, intel- ligent, easily kept, good milk and but- ter producers, fatten quickly and dress tviro-thirds of their live weight. ' Milk Preservatives. Look out for the man with the patent evraetoare te Cuitl v milk preservative, says The American arious agents now abroad In the land selling "Preezene," "No Ice Needed Preservative," "Liquid Islilk Sweet" and several such nostrums in- tended incidentally to keep milk from souring and primarily to gather in the farmer's loose change. In all those several cases which have been reported to the Vermont experi- ment station the chemical basis of the preservative is tbe same. It is formal-, dehyde (formalin), a powerful disin- fectant and germicide, but not a desir- able article of diet for the human spe- cies. It Is not strictly and seriously poisonous, but it Is held by all tbe best authorities to be harmful to the digest- ive system. It is the same,material now largely In use in creameries for preserving samples of milk for testing. It will certaMly keep milk from souring, and It thus enables the slovenly dairyman to cover up many of his worst negli- gences. It leaves him free to enjoy the filth of an unclean steble, to save him- self the trouble of cleaning his cans, to be as loose and lazy and wicked as he pleases. , This is not to say that tbe man who uses "Preservative," "Freezene" and the like is necessarily that sett of a fel- low, but these chemicals do protect him ['rem the results of negligence rind ignorance and seem to the enpreju- diced observer to offer the careless milkman an undeserved salVation front Bran and Middlinvcs—Their Cotit and ' The local mills 25 years ago were often overstoeked with bran and mid- dlings and to get them out of ,the way often sold them cheap, writes John M. Jamison in The Nationel Stockman. Gradually Partnere have come to USO move and more of them. Folenerly the mills were only swept clean adieu - ever corn Was scarce, but now with corn plentiful we find the price of these products high. Shelled corn should be valued at $14.42 per ton oe this market, ear corn at $10.88. We find bran at the mill worth by the ton $12, middlings $14. At the present price of pork at the farm the farmer can buy and feed these products at a proat. At our local mill we find bran sacked and piled away In stacks, while tbe bins are kept clean of middlings by purchases of farmers. The difference in price of the two is $2 per ton, yet farmers buy the middlings and neglect the bran at the lower price. The im- pression prevails with many . farmers, ank intelligent ones, that there Is no feeding value in bran for pigs. During the summer season the aim sheen] be to secure growth. Grass, young and fresh, and clover favor this, 'The corn fed tends mainly. to ,procluce fat. The grasses and clover produce, along with none and muscle, sufficient fat to keep the body in a healthy condition. 'Elie corn ration tends to give a surplus of fat not 'needed in the animal system, to add to the health of the animal. The per cent of fat in the bran and middlings is the same, and the per cent WIRED HOG TROUGH. ef protein is nearly the same, but when It comes to the ash or bone forming material the per cent in the bran is very much the greater. There is 5.8 per cent of ash in bran, in middlings 3.9 per cent. In a ton of bran we find 116 pounds of bone material, in a ton of middlings 78 pounds. The tables at hand give the manurial value of bran at a fraction over $13 per ton, but we are unable to find the manurial value of middlings. It is probably two-thirds that of bran. This is a strong point in faeor of the bran for feed as compared with middlings. The pig does not take kindly to bran alone, fed dry or as slop. Middlings alone used to make slop do not mix well and are unpleasant to handle on this account. By the use of bran and middlings mixed the objectionable fea- tures to the feeder and the pig are ob- viated. Considering these points in favor of the bran we think it would be advis- able for the farmer to cast aside his prejudice against it and when he buys middlings purchase an equal weight of bran to mix witb it. Tben, if the pigs are fed where tbey have range over the clover and pasture fields, at least three-fourths of the feed consumed will be left on the land in the shape of ma - wire. These times it does not pay to overlook this feature in feeding. Wool and Clothes. In a letter to The American Sheep Breeder S. S. Cole of New York says: "Having occasion to buy a suit of clothes for a boy, I will give you a few straws on wool. The merchant threw down a number of suits ranging from $8 to $14. He then brought forward one at $5 which was superior in looks, feeling and texture to all of them. It occurred to me that, as I grew wool and flattered myself that I knew some- thing about it, here might be an object lesson. I proceeded to investigate the highest and lowest priced suits. Well, I found that one could pull a thread three"or four inches in length of long, staple, strong wool from the best one. From the other the yarn came out about one-quarter inch long and would break into one-eighth to one -sixteenth, etc. Please don't ask me which suit I b I THE VEXED QUESTION MORE TROUBLE OVER THE BEGINNING OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY. Which Might Have iteen Avoided Dad the Gentleman Wko Wanted Inforntation Mien Given a Chaise,' to Coutplefe ills Sentence. The Irian with a face like an interro- gation point bit off a large hunk of Mince pie (cold), washed it down with a gulp of cold milk and turned to the man standing, alongside of him in the lunchroom. "Say, nly friend," he inquired, "do you know when the twent"— "No, you don't, 'stranger," said the man addressed. "Not this time. I'm in here to partake of a modest lunch- eon consisting of buttermilk and choc- olate eclairs, and no man's going to get me On that subject while I'm eating down town. I've got to stand it at my boarding house table --there's nothing else at that table—but I can't be drawn into the argument down town. IA -That's more, I don't care a darn when It be- gins." The rnan with a face like a question mark looked ,puzzled, but he wasn't easily squelched. "I don't think you understand what I was going to ask you," said he. "I ' wanted to know If the twent"— But the man with the buttermilk and the chocolate eclair moved off. The man with the question pulled down a large piece of hot gingerbread from the counter, grabbed a cup of coffee and tackled another man alongside of "Excuse me," be began, "but I want Inquire wben you think the twent"— The man addressed smilingly Inter- rupted. "Nix, old man; not today," he said amiably. ' "Too much brain fag about it. I'd be glad to accommodate you by going out and fighting a dog for you or sawing a couple of cords of wood for you or any little chore like that, but nay, nay, when it comes to that ques- tion. I've passed that problem along to my two boys In school anyhow. They've got lots of time and enthusi- asm, and it'll expand their minds—that is, if it doesn't land them in a lunatic asylum. The question doesn't mak. much difference to me anyhow. PH live just as long anyhow, won't I?" "But," expostulated the ,man with the questioning eye, "what I was go - The man he was addressing looked tt his watch hurriedly and ran to pay his check, however, and the man with the interrogatory physiognomy had no recourse but to turn to another man near by. "Look bere, my dear sir," he started. "I want to ask you when the twent"— "I don't know, and, what's more, I don't care," was the testy reply. "I've got something else to do with me' time than to fritter it away on such idiotie calculations as that." "You are in error," was the Inter- rogatory man's hasty_ interruption, "as to what I was" - Again he found that he was address- ing no one in particular, for the testy man had moved away. "I wonder what ails all these people around here?" mused the man with the inquisitive countenance. "When I try to ask them a simple question, they either get"— Just then he caught sight of a friend coming away from the counter with 'a big, slab of pie and a cup of coffee. He elbowed through the crowd and cor- ralled his friend. "Ha, old man, you're just the one looking for," he said joyfully. "I want- ed to ask you when the tweet"— Fels friend's face lengthened imme- diately. "Look here, Jorkins," he said expos- tulatingly, "that's a great fault of yours. picking up those confounded fads and asking questions about them. How the dickens, now, should I, a man that sells hardware for a livelihood, know when the twentieth century be- gins? And what the deuce is the dif- ference to inc so long as I get three square meals"— "Just wait a minute," Interrupted the . man with the Inquiring mug. "I wasn't , attempting to ask, you anything about the beginning of the twentieth century. I don't care a hurrah about that ques- tion one wayor the otber. What . wanted to ask you is when was the 0 cent piece withdrawn from circula- ion? I've got bet on the date with a riend."—Washington,Star. ought. f any reputable sheep breeuer 2 and wool grower will buy for his boy t (who has been a shepherd, sheep dog f and saddle pony combined) such a shod- dy outfit for his best suit, some sensible old ram that is master of the situation should not only butt hirn from the rear, but from all points of the compass until he (the dad) learns the eternal 'fitness of all things.' And tbe merchant—well, he was an honest man. Had he been otherwise and put this showy suit up to $10, so as to make $6 profit instead of $1, he would have sold about as many as at the extreme low price and not aroused the suspicion of his cus- tomers, as in my case." Demand POT Mutton., If the demand for mutton is calling for greater supply, the increase of sup- ply of good mutton, on the other hand, is encouraging a taste and hence is creating greater demand. There Is room for more of us to foster demand by contributing whatever is suitable to our circumstance, whether it be the furnishing of baby lamb for the critic appetite of the gormand, the feeding of the nice btmehes for fall or winter trade or the more ambitious work of distributing Mee sire e and ewes to raise the standard' of ,quality in the crieeass or to promote good mutton form and early maturity qualities. The springtime of the shepherd Is in the fall. It IS thee he contracts for the quality and extent of his crop for the year. Let beginners have hope and old Milers have renewed, confidence In thevxioto'eheeP enterprises, for the AMIN, A An Insinuation. Husband—That tramp I met at the gate told me be weighed 250 pounds. Wife—What a story teller! Why, he told me when I fed him that he only weighed 100. Husband—Yes, my dear, but that was before he bad eaten those biscuits of yours.—Detroit Free Press. A Common Form of CrneltY. "Yes, he claimed his wife pinched him severely whenever she asked him for money." "Well, he needn't flatter himself that he is the only man who has been pinch- ed for money." --Cleveland Plain Deal- er. Civilization In Africa,. , "Did you have a missionary of the name of Gotthold Peel) stopping at yotir hotel about three week d ago?" "Walt one moment; P11 look up the NA menu eardi."—Der Floh.