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About Corvallis gazette. (Corvallis, Benton County, Or.) 1900-1909 | View Entire Issue (March 10, 1903)
SEMI-WEEKLY. SaiKSJillh.. i Consolidated Feb., 1899. CORVALiIjIS, BENTON COUNTY, OREGON, TTJESDAY, MARpH 10, 1903t VOL. IIL NO. 46. ilMhifo llanrli UU IIIIU A Tale of tiie Early Settlers nt Louisiana. BY AUSTIN C. BURDICK CHAPTER IX. Far away, in the depths of the forest, where a deep river "ran, and where the cypress trees grew thick and tall, a party of Indians sat down to rest. Only ten red men are here upon the edge of the cypress swamp, and eight of them repose themselves to sleep, while the other two keep watch. It is near noon, for the sun has almost reached its highest point, and these, men have been upon the trail since early last evening. But these Chickasaws are not alone. Close by the side of a huge cypress log. one end of which is bedded in the swamp, lies the form of a child of the pale faecs. The hands and the feet are bound, and a cord from the lashings of the hnls leads along the ground, and is clutched by one of the sleeping Indians. In those fair features, now shaded by the lare . log, there is something of the look of .7 Louis St. Julien; but even now the flesh seems' sunken, and the beholder would think that many days, instead of only a few hours, of suffering had rested wuh . in that frame. Thus the party rested until nearly four o'clock, and then one of the Indians, who had been placed a little way up the riv er to watch, gave, a low, shrill whistle, and on the instant the whole party were upon their feet, and had seized their arms. On the next instant, a crashing of the bushes was, heard at no great dis tance, and not long afterwards, a party of six Indians made their appearance. He who led the newcomers was very tall and athletic. It was the Natchez war rior, Stung Serpent. The stout chieftain spoke not until he had seen the pale youth who still slept by the cypress log, and then a grunt of sat isfaction escaped from his.lips. He spoke with the chief of the Chickasaws for some time in his own strange tongue, and then he turned to where the youth slept, and-awoke him. The sleeper started up"; and with a look of terror; gazed around. "Where" is is where is my sister?" he asked,-iu a low, thrilling tone. "She has gone on further south while you slept," answered Stung Serpent. "But the daughter of the white man is safe, No harm can come to her, for her life is precious. But you cannot go to her now. You must go with the -Stung Ser pent to the village of the White Apple. What can Louis St. Julien fear from his brother?" The youth gazed into the face of the powerful Natchez, and for awhile he was utterly unable to speak. At that moment a hundred various thoughts and emotions flew wildly through his mind. He saw his father and St. Denis still searching for the hiders, and he heard their notes of alarm, and saw their tears of grief. Then he ran over the fearful journey through the deep forest, and he wondered why he was thus separated from his mate. - "Can I not go with my sister?" he at length asked. "No," was the answer. "And why may we not be together?" "Because it is impossible. Remember, the Stung Serpent has spoken." This was pronounced in a slow, mean- ing tone, and Louis St. Julien knew '"enough ;-6f the Indian character' to know that no appeal would move his captors from such a purpose. He looked around once-more,: and when he saw that half of the Chickasaws were gone, he knew that his companion had gone with them. . In the meantime, Stung Serpent was . performing a work that startled the pris oner not a little. After he had given his last answer to Louis, he approached the Chickasaw chief, and gave to him a heavy purse. The latter too it and emp tied its contents into his broad pa'm, and- Louis saw that it was gold. The Chickasaw's eyes sparkled as they rested upon the coin. Louis clasped his hands for they were free now and his frame shook as his former doubts grew to con firmations. Who could have placed that -gold in the hands of the Natchez war rior? To be sure, there was a French fort near the Natchez villages; but then Louis knew that they had no gold to spare there. Thankful must the Iniian be who could get even a few pieces of silver from the people of Fort Rosalie. Then who could have paid this gold hut Simon Lobois? The thought came, and it was fixed. The prisoner's head was .bowed, and when again he looked up, there was a shade of determination upon the finely chiseled features that contrast ed strangely with the tear marks that had before rested there. He folded his hands upon his bosom, and for a single instant his eyes were turned heavenward. . . With a satisfied look, the Chickasaw leader emptied the money back into the purse, and having placed it in his bosom, he turned to his followers and gave the signal for starting. They quickly gath ered up their arms, and in a few mo ments more they were lost to sight in the thick wood. "Now," said Stung Serpent, turning to his prisoner, "we will be on our way to our home in the domain of the Nat chez. Can you walk?" "Yes; but I am weak now, and shall hardly be able to keep pace with you if you hurrv." N "The white youth speaks calmly - for one in distress," pursued the chief, look ing his prisoner sharply in the eye. "Perhaps he thinks he shall escape." "If I speak calmly," returned the youth, "it is because I hope you mean me no harm." "Ugh!" That was all the answer Stung Serpent returned upon that subject. In a moment more he took the prisoner's hand and gazed upon it. "I did not, tell the Chickasaw that it was you who slew his people," the Nat chez said. Louis trembled. "For if I had, I should not have found yon alive, having once passed through his hands. You have a small white hand for a warrior such as you have proved yourself to be." And Stung Serpent laid his own hug; Uand by the side of his .prisoner's, thus making the youth's deli-' cate limb appear smaller by the contrast than it really was. And then, with a j smile, he continued: "While you lire, we'll throw away your French name, and henceforth thou shalt be called White Hand. Eh how does that sound?" But the prisoner did not reply imme- diately, for this last remark was not the one that chained his attention. "While ; you live," were the words that sounded , jn his ears, and started his fears. Th; y were spoken in a tone and with a pecu liar emDhasis which seemed to mean something, and if they had a meanin beyond the mere chance of natural cause and effect, then surely all was not meant well for him. But he did not speak his fears. "Eh? Does not the son of the white chief like his. name?" "Yes res." The other Indians had stood near at hand, and as they heard the name thus bestowed, they smiled, and repeated it several times. In a little while longer the party prepared for thctramp and set out. For a' distance of some miies they followed tpe stream to the north ward and eastward, and finally they left the river and struck into a narrow, du bious trail. It was "dark when Stung Serpent gave the order to stop. They had reached a small lake, or deep bayou. upon one hand of which arose a steep bluff, directly beneath which they halt ed. White Hand saw that some one had stopped here before,- for the traces of a fire' were plainly visible against the face of the rock, and as he walked over the spot beneath it he could feel the dry coals. A fire was soon built, and then one of the party produced some dried venison, and some sort of esculent root that resembled the common artichoke. The prisoner was hungry,' and he ate heartily, and then he was allowed to he down and sleep, Stung Serpent having taken the precaution to secure his hands so that he could not move them with out disturbing him. When White Hand was aroused he started quickly up, and at first he thought the day had dawned, but as soon as" his senses were fairly at work he found it was the moon that gave so much light. He was informed that the party were now to start on, and he was soon ready. The moon was nearly at its zenith, and he judged that it could not be much past midnight. For two or three hours the trail was dubious and difficult. It lay through a deep growth of oak, and the ground was uneven, and in some places wet and boggy from the late rains. In the morning they stopped for breakfast. During the forenoon a deer was shot, from which they took the skm and as much of the meat as .they want ed; so at noon they built a fire and had some venison steak;, only . White Hand would have liked it much better could he have had a little salt with his meat. Another night came, and again the youth slept with his hands confined; and this time he was allowed to sleep until morning. Another meal from, the fresh deer meat was made, and then the trail was resumed. During the ' next day the prisoner came several times near failing for. want, of strength, for however strong may have been his close-knit frame, he was not used to this kind of labor. How ever, the Indians helped him some, and he managed to move along without much show of pain or complaint. He knew that if he would expect kind treatment at the hands of his captors he must be sav ing of complaint and trouble, and he re solved that he would stand up under the trial as unflimhingly as possible. When they had stopped for the night again he asked his captor how much further they had to' travel. - "Not much,". Stung Serpent replied. "One more day will bring U3 to the vil lage where we are to stop. Does it please the White Hand, eh?" "It will surely please me to rest, for. I am weary and faint, and had we much further to travel I fear I should be a bur den to-you." The Indian shrugged his shoulders, but made no further reply, and shortly af terwards White Hand lay down to sleep. In the morning they were once more in motion, and before noon they struck into a. broader trail that gave evidence of much travel. The sun was some two hours high when they reached the top "of a gentle eminence, and upon looking down into the valley beyond, White H-n 1 saw quite a village of Natchez huts. There were some fifty or sixty dwellings, built in a sort of circle, while within this circle stood four buildings , of larger di mensions. "Yoes the White Hand see "yonder vil lage?" asked Stung Serpent, as the par ty stopped .upon the hilltop. The prisoner answered in the affirma tive. "That is the village of the White Ap ple,, the home of the bravest warriors of the Natchez, and the abode of peace There lives my brother the Great Sun, and the chief of all our people. That is his dwelling next to the temple." But does the White Hand see where those trees seem to break away, as though the fire had run through the deep forest on a wide trail? Look away towards the setting sun. Do you mark it?" "Yes," replied the youth, looking ha the direction pointed out. "There travels the great Father of Waters in his way to the great salt lake. And do you mark that point? Ah! you can see a piece of cloth fluttering in the breeze. Do you not see? away off there? like a rag playing in the wind?" White Hand looked, and he saw what his guide had pointed out. It was just visible over the intervening tree tops. "I see it," he said. "That is the village of the white man. He has built a fort there, and he calls it Rosalie. They tell me 'tis called so from a woman's name. Is it so?" "It is." The Indian watched his prisoner with a keen glance while speaking of the tfort, and a-simple "ugh!" was his only reply to the youth's last answer. "''...' In a short time they started down the hill, and just as the sun was sinking from sight they reached the village. The m?n and children came flocking out, and while Stung Serpent was received with lively demonstrations of joy, looks of the most" eager curiosity were fixed upon White Hand. But his captor did not stop to exhibit him. He puraued his way at once to a long, narrow building near the tem ple, the walls of which were formed of close-fitting timbers driven into the ground, while the door, which swung to and fro on wooden, hinges, was uncom monly stput and strong, being formed of a succession of hewn logs secured to gether by cross-bars, to which each up right piece was pinned. This door was opened, and the youth was led in, and with the simple remark that he would remain there for the night he wan left to himself. As soon as the heavy door was closed upon him the prisoner gazed about. A little light came to the place through the small holes in the wall near the roof, and by this means he could see somewhat of the nature of his prison, for that this was a prison, and built for such, he had no doubt. The only floor was the earth, and that must also serve for chair, bed. and table, for nothing save the bare walls and the naked earth met his gaze. He soon satisfied himself that he should never escape from-this place by force, and he soon threw his worn and weary frame upon the ground. In the course of half an hour the door was opened and Stung Serpent entered and set down a wooden trav and an earthen drinking cup. and without speaking he retired. The youth found the contents of the tray to be boil ed corn, and the cup was filled with wat er. He ate a little and drank a little, and again he lay himself down upon the hard earth. w.,fA KrtmA 4 1 m a H n ii n r ThP TlH'nt W hire Hand was moved by strange dreams. Once he dreamed that Stung Serpent came to him to kill hirn. Then the stout Indian seized him. and in the struggle that ensued, his captor turned into a dragon, and blew fire from his mouth. Thus the prisoner was set on fire, and as the flames began to gather about - the dreamer he started up in A sharp cry escaped from his lips, for a f flam wa nllv flashins in his eves. He would have started to his feet, but a light hand held him down. "Let the White Hand not -fear," pro nounced a soft, sweet voice, in gentle tones, "for .Coqualla means him no harm." The youth gazed up, and he saw an Indian girl standing -over him with a small torch in her hand. She was a beautiful creature for one so dusky in hue, and the sweet smile that rested up on her lips was peculiarly grateful to the prisoner. As soon as she saw that she had quieted his f oars, she removed her hand and stepped back. And now White Hand , had more opportunity to survey her. ' She was" j ouug not more than sixteen very slim and straight, an.l lithe as the willow branch. Her fca tures were faultlessly regular, and ter eyes large, black an! brilliant. The youth had seen many of the Natchez women, but never one lijse this berore, and the thought quickly came to him that she was one of the royal blood, for all others, we:e bent and hardened- by work and drudgery. "You do not fear me," she said, gazing unon him with a look in which inquisi tiveness was about equally blenied with a warmer feeling. "No-M) no. Why should I fear one like rou?" v "I knew not but that my coming might disturb you. But I came for your good, I knew my father had brought a prison er from among the sons of, the whires "Your father? Is the Stung Serpent, then, your father?" "Ym." "And your name " "Is Coaualla" "And you are the next heir to the throne of the Natchez?" " "Next after my father." - "I have heard of you often." But the princess did not seem at all anxious to know what the youth had heard of her. She remained for some moments in silence, and . during . that time she 'seemed to be studying every line of the prisoner's . face. "The White Hand is hot a great man in bulk," she at length said, thoughtful ly; "but yet he must be a brave man, for my father says he slew six of the tmcK- asaw warriors. - "Not alone, Coqualla.. His friend was with him." So my father said. And yet you must be brave; and so I would save you." Save me?" uttered the youth, starting now to his feet. " sh! Speak not too loud, for no ono knows that I am here. I would save you." "But what danger threatens mer "I cannot tell you surely; but" yet I think I can save you. If you have- any thing to fear, it must be from my father. Therefore, promise him whatever he may ask. If he means you ill, that ill will be death, and if he offers you life, you must accept it. I have come to assure you that he never speaks idly. If he makes ou an offer he means it, and you must speak truth with him. ' . (To be continued.) Bargain Day. . A very rich anecdote Is told of Thomas Bailey Aldrlch, says the La dies' Home Journal. One day the dis tinguished author happened to saunter into an auction room while, a sale of rare editions, old manuscripts and au tographs was going on. The auction eer, holding in his hands a bundle of letters, said: "Ladies and gentlemen, have here two autographs which were written by a man named Thomas Bailey Aldrlch. I shal now start them for you at the price of two for five cents." No bids were made and tney were sold for that sum. Mr. Aldrich, In speaking of the inci dent afterward to a friend, said: "I wouldn't have cared at all If they had gone for five cents each, but 'two for five' reminded me very forcibly of lit tle apples." Grim Humor. "Do you wish your missionary steak rare or well done?" asked the most high chef, with an obeisance. "What was the victim's occupation, in, life?" replied the cannibal chief. wearily. ' 'He was a collector, your majesty," responded the chef. , 'Well dun," concluded the chief, who anfmrail Vila ftTL-TI )Voa VlTKTfkllT Thfl I court attendants broke into a labored guffaw, for whoever did not laugh did not live. Ohio State Journal. He Wanted to Know. Minister (to Sunday cyclist) Young man, you are on the path to perdition. Cyclist That so? How are the roads? San Francisco Examiner. There are "ordinarily from thirty to forty varieties of fish in the Honolulu market. A large percentage of the natives make their living by fishing. Home-Made Snow Plow. One of the troubles of the farmer lo cated in sections where the snow fall f is heavy is getting to his stock after a , heavy fall of snow. All of us are fa- miliar with the scene of a farmer shov eling snow all day when the barn con tains several horses actually suffering for exercise. Ther use of a plow like that Illustrated, which may be readily fa oYiisn a Iiaiyia ifauM nirapmma all this trouble. The plow should be made f vy planks of any desired size. , and should be higher in front than at the back; eighteen inches is a good J height for the front. The top Is shown in the lower illustration, indicating 1 t,ow three boards are placed for the begt 6Upport Tie sides should be ; braeed wlth t"wo iong iron bolts with nutg The . fashioned ... - , fia 8nown an made with a ferule and ; a crooked piece of hoop iron. Ar- ranged- as Indicated the plow may be HOME-MADE SNOW-PLOW. easily guided with one hand, the other being used in driving. The expense of such a plow will be small and most of the work may be easily done at home. Indianapolis ;News. A Horse's Sense of Smell. A horse will leave musty hay un touched in his bin, ? however hungry. He will not drink o water objection able to his questioning sniff or from a bucket which some odor makes of fensive, ho wever thirsty. His Intelli gent nostril will .widen, quiver and query over the daintiest bit offered by tne.fairest--baiid-with"5coaxings that would make a mortal shut his eyes and swallow, a mouthful at- a gulp. A mare is never satisfied by either sight or whinny that her colt is really her own until she has a certi fied nasal proof of the fact A blind horse now living will not allow the approach of any stranger without showing signs of anger not safely to be disregarded. The distinction is evi dently made by his sense of smell, and at a considerable distance. Blind horses as a rule will gallop wildly about a pasture without striking the surrounding fence. The sense of smell informs them of its proximity. Others will when loosened from the stable go direct to the gate or bars opened to their accustomed feeding grounds, and when desiring to return after hours of careless wandering will distinguish one outlet and patiently.- await Its opening. Detroit Free Press. Cooking; Food for Stock. Only a few years ago quite a' num ber of appliances for cooking food for stock were advertised, but few are offered at this time, and the assump tion is that there is no demand for them. - In some sections cooking at least a portion of the food for the stock is still done, but the majority ,of feeders claim that the results do not warrant the expense. This -is proba bly true where a number of animals are kept, but where there are but few animals It undoubtedly pays to at least warm a portion of the food given to them during the winter. It Is known that with poultry this cooking of the food pays, for the majority of successful poultrymen consider the warm mash as an essential part of their feeding plans. - Undoubtedly, too, if one has a large quantity of pota toes that "are to be stock fed, It will pay to cook them, provided the appara tus used is not too expensive. Not withstanding the fact that the con census of opinion seems to be against the cooking of food for stock, it Is a question that must be determined by each feeder for himself by actual ex periment. Exchange. - ; The Horseradish Crop. All our best horseradish comes from the middle West. Perhaps its soil is especially adapted to horseradish; per- hape the central State farmers are more skillful in culture; but this young merchant, though blindfolded, can in stantly tell If a piece comes from New England or the . West. The Jlew England root does not hold Its strength as long. Horseradish raising has be come a very profitable business In cer tain sections of the middle West, whose farmers realize as high as $300 an acre from this crop. The Western horseradish root , is well developed, with fe pits, while the wild horse radish must be scraped by hand with the right sort of a knife. New York Commercial. : Poultry and Fruit. r . Poultry and fruit -trees certainly go together, says Twentieth Century Farmer. -3Ve have seen this verified In one place close by last summer. The apple crop being a complete failure as much from reason of insect enemies as anything else. But in this orchard the chicken house is built in one cor- (Tier; the coops are scattered through it. xne chickens get the summer ahade and in return eat up the larvae of the fruit destroyers. They certainly did in this orchard, as It shows some fine and perfect fruit this fall, and all neighboring orchards are destitute of anything but a few. wormy, knotty apples. . ' . "" Building Potato t.nnA. In many sections of the country po tatoes always bring a good price, but the soil is -too light to grow1 heavy crops. A successful method of bring ing up such soil to the point where It will bring good results is -the follow ing: Select a soil that is In fairly good condition, and if in sod dress with acid phosphate and muriate of potash, turn under and prepare thoroughly for corn. Follow the corn with rye, which should be plowed under in the spring. Sow cow peas after dressing soil again with acid phosphate and muriate of potash and harvest for forage. In the fall go over the ground with a disk hafrow and break up thoroughly, sow rye and turn under the following spring; then prepare thoroughly for the potatoes, and the crop, under proper conditions of culture, .will be all that is desired. Other methods quite as good will bring the same results with out doubt, but this one has been repeat edly' tested and found to be all that is claimed for it. " - Work to Do In Winter. Any Intelligent. - progressive farmer will find plenty to do during the win ter, even though he may not have many animals to care for. A moment's thought will bring to mind the things that will be needed during the busy days of spring, and that many of these things can be prepared now. The care ful farmer has long ago put his farm machinery In perfect repair painting the wooden portions, putting in bolts where needed, - oiling the necessary parts, and, in short, is ready for busi ness. There is still Vime to do some winter plowing during the open days, if the ground is not too wet, and thus enable one to work the ground sooner in the spring. Then there is the gar den to be looked after, the hotbeds to be put in shape and the strawberry plantation to be mulched, if the work has not been already done. All this is work that is necessary to success with the next crops, and will keep the farmer busy and enable him to keep ahead of his work. The Ice, Supply. The ice supply put up during the winter performs a merciful mission during the heated season. Not only does it add to the comfort of living, but "prevents much waste that would otherwise take place in the foods used during the summer. Where one is lo cated near towns where large ice sup plies are stored it may be cheaper to purchase it at intervals during the summer than put up a supply In win ter. For the ordinary farm home an ice house 10x12 and 10 feet high is considered to be of sufficient size. A dead air space around the walls will prevent" melting, while ventilation is exceedingly Important and should be arranged for when houses are con structed. Drainage is also essential. The cost of building an Ice house va ries from $10 to $50. Iowa Home stead. Filling; Bazs Made Easy. I have a bag bolder of which I In close a drawing. Any man can make and put It up ready for use in about the same time It would take to get his wife out to hold the bags. It is made of a piece of inch board, 2 feet long HANDY BAG-HOLDER. and 4 inches wide. Two-thirds in wire nails are driven through from one side and crooked with a hammer to make a hook. The nails, a, are 12 inches apart. It can be : fastened anywhere by simply diving two nails through It. James Dunlap, In Farm and Home. " Farm Notes. The intensive farmer keeps his soil busy all the time and . the extensive farmer grows a single -cr6p and lets his soil rest the remainder of the time. There is such a thing as letting land exhaust Itself in the growth of weeds. All kinds of stock are subject to loss of appetite when the food does not consist of a variety. A mess of cooked turnips may improve an animal more than medicine. Always resort to a change of food when the animals seem to lose appetite. ; It Is stated that if turnips are fed after instead of before milking the odor is not imparted to the next milk ing. A teaspoonful of saltpeter added to a pail of lukewarm water as a drink fof the cow ls claimed as a remedy for the difficulty when turnips are fed. A drain that Is stopped up Is one that Is not only not serviceable, but a men ace to health. When foul there Is al ways a disagreeable stench therefrom, and, being always damp, substances decompose quickly. Nothing Is more 1 TouUets oFdral. i pTpes and altTes In order to have a free flow of water , in them. - r When plowing or clearing fields for spring operations a most important matter is to clear out the fence cor ners. This should be done, even If it entails an extra job after the plowing is performed, as it is such sources from whence come most of the crops of weeds and seeds; whlc,h, spread over the fields and cause endless labor throughout the entire growing season, tl I -l 1 1 j 1 1 1 ! r i 1 The New Umbrella. . There, my dear; you'd better take my umbrella. But be very careful of u At KUl UlV&tU ur SUlieu ur UUV- lUlUg 1 B11UU1U U greatly vexed. It's a beautiful umbrel- 1 T 1 U 1 la. I don't suppose even Aunt Molly, up in Philadelphia, has such a nice one. So be as careful as ever you can be." "Yes, mother." "Well, well, I'm nearly sure that was a drop of rain, and here I am out THE DEPARTURE. in it with this lovely new umbrella. Dear, dear, I do hope It's not going to amount to much. Of course, it's very nice-to have the umbrella along, but I almost wish I had not brought It. Yes,. I do' believe it's going to pour In a min ute or two! How vexed dear mother will be!" "Now, let me think! However shall I manage to keep the umbrella dry? This is the only way that I can see. I'll just wrap it up in my cloak; and isn't It a fortunate thing that I brought my cloak along with me! I believe I can reach home without getting a drop on the umbrella after all if I hurry and cover it up before it rain hard." "Oh,: mother, I'm wet through and through! My hat, and my . pinafore and every thing! The - water's trick ling down my back in streams, and has almost soaked through my ears. But I do believe the umbrella is all THE RETURN. right. Oh it was such hard work to keep it from getting wet. And wouldn't it have been a pity to spoil such a bran new-umbrella!" How It Cleared Ofif. Such a time! And to think it all "Came out, of a clear sky 1" as Aunt Esther would say. A minute before Meg and Kathie had been cozily chat tering, with" their arms, .rround each other.- Then came the thundersjiower that bade fair to settle down into steady raining. Aunt Esther happened to be in the other room, and this is what she heard. Meg began: "It's in Webster's Under-the-bridge." "Webster's On-the-bridge, you mean Kathie interposed, briskly. "Under-the-bridge." "On-the-bridge." "Kath-rine Trundy, I guess I know! My father's a minister!" "Meg'ret Merriweather, my father's a brldgemaker, an I guess I -Know, so there!" , This was too much for Meg for a minute, but she recovered presently. "I don't care, it's Webster's Under- the-bridge. My brother's in college, and I guess he knows!" "Poh! If I had a brother I guess he'd know enough to know it's Webster On- the-bridge!" '"Tlsn't!" x " TIs, to!" . "Kath'rine Trundy, I don't fpose my mothef d want me to play with such a nignoramus! Here's your coral ring." "Here's yours." Thf PTchnn?fl was made stifflv. Both little girls held their heads very high ; and looked dignifiedly hostile. The lit-1 tie red spots in their round cheeks flickered. Their bright eyes snapped. "Wait!" Aunt Esther Called, just as they -were parting "forever.' ShA tnok thPm Pnch hv the hand and led them into the library, up to the the common wild rose. It Is not un-dictlonary-stand. Then she pointed to Pleasant in taste and certainly possesses the big title-word, U-n-a-b-r-i-drg-e-d," she spelled, dis tinctly and slowly. "Oh, .my!" breathed Meg, ruefully. "We didn't both of us know I" "No, we didn't," Kathie admitted. And when they went out again their arms were clasped, and the little coral rings had gone visiting again. Youth's Companion. The Rabbit a Coward. Here is a little talk between a boy who is a great hunter for his age and a woman of his acquaintance, which shows that cowardice sometimes de pends on the way things are looked at: "A rabbit," said the young hunter, "is the most awful coward that there is in the world. My, how he does run from, a hunter!" N "So you think that the rabbit Is a coward?" "Yes, of course." "Well, let us 'suppose a little.' Sup pose you were about six or eight inches talk" "Well.' "And had good, strong, swift legs." "Yes." ' "And -ave any n, and a fTV iru!T" -.i, did have one. What would you do?' "What should I do? I would streak it like lightning." "I think you would, and I think, too, that you would have your own Ideas as to who was the coward." New York Recorder. , '"'''.,', Interested In the. Lonngt'i Anatomy Five-year-old Georgle had been tak- lug a lively Interest In school studies, especially in Physiology and Anatomy. Little Stories and Incidents that Will Interest and Enter- t - tain Young Readers t 1 t ! til t I I 1 ! I .. M. 1 1. j We were studying an unfortunate oorcuDine which had txn ohnzht in an apple tree and we had made good UlnctratlAna a na4Am vA I ' aay th(L gjpl8 toQk ftn old lounge apart. Having watched the operation tor some timp. ho mo mnnincr n ma his , eyes on fire with excitement,-, his cheeks flushed and his locks flying be hind him: "Come, come," he cried, "If you want to study Phiserology, now's your change. The girls have got the lounge all to pieces." Little Chronicle. Sore Points. The pencil heaved a weary sigh. And. murmured to the pen-: "I haven't felt so out of sorts . -, Since oh, I don't know when! "The penknife treats me very ill, It cuts me in the street, And really is extremely sharp Whene'er we chance to meet' "And when I broke the other day Beneath its bitter .stroke. It said it didn't see the point; . Neither did I the joke! "With many troubles I'm depressed, My heart just feels like lead." The pen mopped up an inky tear: "I weep for you," it Baid. Cassell's Little Folks. - It Couldn't Be. jg' ' The other morning, little Howard got up unusually cross. Roy tried to play with him, but at last he became impa tient, and said: "I guess you got up on the wrong side of the bed." Little Howard promptly replied: "No, 'Oy. I dot up on Mamma's Side." Modern Conveniences. One day my little three-year-old brother was visiting at our neighbor's. He came home very excited and said: "Mamma, you ought to have a pump like'they have at Camery's, you turn it like a gasoline stove and water comes out like a washing machine." ' Recuperating. - One day little four-year-old Cora was trying to stand on her head. Her moth er asked her what she was doing, She answered: - "I's standing on my heud to rest my feet." Little Chronicle. -. : - ' v Learning; by Degrees. ' f Little Charlie being asked by his teacher the subject of his Geography lesson, answered promptly: "Longitude and Shortitude." 1 FRUIT INSTEAD OF DRUGS. DruKgiata Wonli Starve' if People Would Kat More Apples. Many of our common fruits are Just as useful and much nicer than doctors' prescriptions. The apple, for instance. Not only is the apple an excellent puri fier of the blood, but it is a cure for dysentery, and has also the peculiar effect of restoring an intoxicated person to sobriety. A diet of stewed apples, eaten three times a day, has worked wonders in cases of confirmed drunken 'ness, giving the patient an absolute distaste for alcohol in any form. The pineapple Is another fruit most valuable in throat affections. Indeed, it has saved many a life of a diph theritic patient. The juice squeezed from a ripe pineapple is the finest thing in the world for cutting the fungus-like membrane which coats the throat In diphtheria, and if used in time never raus lo cure- After a vere attack of Influenza th throa is of relaxed and the ton- 8118 m oiu-iasmoueu ibu, .stilt in use In many parts of the west of England is a conserve of roses. This a sort of jam made from the hips of ifxruug aBiriiigeiii propenitu. To eat a grape a minute for an hour at a time, and to repeat this perform ance three or four times a day, eating very little else meantime but dry bread, may seem a monotonous way of spend ing the time. This treatment works wonders for people whose digestions have got out of order from worry or overwork. It Is no mere quack prescrip tion, but a form of cure recognized and advised by many well-known physi cians. Grapes are, perhaps, the most digestible of any fruit In existence A cordial made from blackberries Is greatly recommended by the Devon shire country folk as a cure for colic, and many a farmer's wife makes black berry cordial as regularly as elderberry wine. . The latter, heated and mixed with a little cinnamon, is one of the best preventives known against a chilL The flowers, too, of the elder come In useful An ointment made by layering them in mutton suet and olive oil Is most soothing in case of boils. Nowa days doctors forbid gouty patients to eat any kind of sweet foods, but .rec ommend them to eat at least a dozen walnuts a day. There is no doubt, that walnuts are most useful to. gouty sub jects, or in cases of chronic rheumatism. Swelling goes down and pain decreases. Her Palm jr Days. ... Patience When I was young I had at least 50 offers for my hand. ' ' Patrice Those are what you might call your palmy days, I suppose. .' No one Is able to discover that a rich man is a fool until after bij loses hia money. '