Heppner gazette., May 03, 1906, Image 2

THE RED STORM
Or the Days of Daniel Boone
By JOEL ROBINSON
CHAPTER XXIII. (Continued.)
In a short time ten or a dozen sturdy
men were at work with picks ami
spades, and the dirt went merrily over
the stockades.
"They are still diRging; the water
grows muddier," said Fleming, who,
with Boone and the rest, remained in
the block-houses.
"If they were not sheltered by the
bank, we would soon make them
scamper away," returned the pioneer.
"There's a burning arrow upon the
roof of one of the cabins," said Flem
ing. "I will go and put It out," added Dan
iel Boone's son, who was yet but a
mere lad.
"Stay, my son; I prefer to go myself!"
cried his father, nervously, more wliling
to expose himself than his son.
"Your life is worth more than mine,"
aid James.
"For my sake for your mother's
ake!" cried the captain, earnestly. But
before he had finished the sentence
James was running along the roofs of
the cabins, exposed to the enemy's fire.
The old veteran of the wilderness
Btood watching his boy with a terrible
anxiety for the result, which no heart
but a parent's can understand. He heard
a discharge of firearms, and the balls
that whistled about his son seemed to
wound his own person. James stooped
down, and with his foot extinguished
the flaming arrow, while a literal
fhower of lead cut the air, and per
forated his clothes in many places.
The fire being out, the bold hoy turned
to retrace his footsteps, when a ball
too true to its aim struck him upon the
breast, and he fell amid the shouts of
a hundred foemen.
The pioneer stagsered and groaned
as if his heart would burst, and would
have rushed forth to cover his son's
body with his own, had not Fleming
held him, while Joel Logston, resardless
cf danger, leaped out upon the roof,
raided the fallen youth in his athletic
erms, and bore him to the block-house.
The shaft had been well sped the
wound was mortal. The bereaved fath
er bent over the dying boy in tearful
egony, and taking up King Dnvid's la
ment, cried out in the bitterness of his
wounded spirit:
"My son. my son! would to God that I
had died for thee!"
For a space all stood silent, too much
effected to speak.
"Be a man, cap'n; be a man," said
Logston.
"Ah. Joel, things have chaneed since
I bade you master your griefs," said
Boone, In a choked voice. "This makes
two darling sons and a brother that I
have lost by savage hands. James,
James! my dear boy! look at me; it is
your father that calls!" cried the captain,
frantically.
Contrary to all expectations, the boy
opened his eyes languidly, and smiled
faintly.
And now ensued a scene so tender and
Affecting that the stoutest heart turned
away unmanned. The boy's mother and
sister had come to gaze their last upon
him, and to share his agonies quite down
to the rolling river of death.
"It's all over now the pain of dying
Is past the darkness has disappeared,
find the light flows in. Farewell, loved
ones I go, I go. I go to the land
where there are no warfares and fight
ings, and where God himself shall wipo
all tears from all faces."
The boy smiled and died; and an ex
pression of serene joy inexpressible lin
gered sweetly upon his young face.
"I have done struggling with destiny,"
eaid Boone, In heart-broken accents. "I
yield now to my fate; I relinquish all
earthly hopes. I shall command no
longer among you. This last blow has
destroyed my manhood. Choose a new
leader, and leave me to my private
griefs," he added sadly.
"No new leader will we have," an
swered Joel.
"My voice will be heard no more In
battle," replied Boone.
"Daniel, Daniel!" exclaimed Mrs.
Boone, In a tone of solemn earnestness,
wiping away all traces of recent tears,
"is this like you? Have you ceased to
be the Iron-nerved man chosen by God
to people this wilderness? Are you not
to these heoric men what Moses was to
the Hebrews? Will you falter now,
when the hopes of all are centered upon
you?"
"Ton are right, Rebecca; I must mas
ter myself,!' answered the forester, like
one Just awakened from sleep.
"Here Is your rifle, Daniel," added
Mrs. Boone, placing the trusty weapon
he loved so well In his hands. The
touch of the faithful steel, and the be
loved voice of Rebocca, seemed to bring
him to himself. He passed his hands
ever his forehead, and his spirit was
once niore alive to the sound of battle.
The settlers continued the defense
with greit obstinacy, shooting down all
those who had the hardihood to show
themselves within gunshot of the fort
When the night set in, the digging was
Mill progressing. Judging by the muddy
hue of the water; and the Inhabitants
of Bo'inesborough remained in suspense
until morning, expecting hourly to hear
the Fjtades of the enemy in their under
ground approaches.
CHAPTER XXIV.
The deportment of Star-Light was
irore friendly after her return to the
village. The reasons for this change
were attributed to the occurrences of
the day; we mean those relating to
Allan Norwood and Le Bland.
Our heroine's emotions while In the
presence of the former, and her evident
repugnance to the latter, had produced
a favorable impression on the jealous
Indian maiden.
Kosalthe took advantage of Star
Light's mood to refer to the promise
which she had made to conduct ber
back to Boonesborough. The aubject
gave do apparent displeasure, and the
assurance was given that the matter
should not be long delayed.
Boaaltbe was much surprised at the
1
calmness exhibited by the Cherokee
girl, when she obviously felt so deeply
on the subject. That the Frenchman
had made the strongest professions of
love to her there . could be no 'ground
of doubt; and that Star-Light still dis
trusted his sincerity was equally sure.
"What does White-Cloud think of
Smooth-Tongue?" she asked, abruptly,
on the morning following.
Rosalthe felt that It -was her duty to
deal truly and frankly with Star-Light;
she therefore replied that she considered
Le Bland a dangerous man, to whose
protestations of love or friendship it
was not safe to trust; that if he had
professed to love her (Star-Light), the
truth compelled her to say that he had
not acted In good faith, for during the
last few weeks he had not ceased to
persecute and render her miserable with
his avowals.
While Rosalthe was making this state
ment, Star-Light kept her eyes fixed
searchingly on her. When she had
ceased speaking, her companion shook
her head and smiled faintly.
"And White-Cloud is sure that she
has no happiness in the words of Shois
ka?" replied Star-Light.
"Very sure," replied Rosalthe; "his so
ciety was not agreeable to me from the
first, and when I began to be suspicions
that he was leagued with our enemies,
I not only disliked but feared him. I
have told yon this before, but you
would not listen. Let my red sister be
strong. Let her soul rise above sorrow.
Smooth-Tongue is unworthy of her
thoughts; therefore let her forget him.
Otter-Lifter Is brave and humane, and
his heart sighs for Star-Light."
The maiden made no answer, and sootj
after Rosalthe and Monon left the lodga
and walked Into the forest together.
They had gone but a short distance
from the village when they were met by
Le Bland. He assumed an easy, assured
and arrogant tone.
"I trust you will be kind to-day," he
said to Rosalthe.
"Our cousin of the Wyandots talks
but little," replied Monon.
"So I should think," added the French
man. "She seems to be a perfect mute.
Is the gift of speech denied her? I
would speak a few words to you." con
tinued the Frenchman, again address
ing Rosalthe, but In a more respectful
tone.
"Speak on." she replied, disguising her
voice as much as possible.
For a moment the Frenchman was si
lent; a shrnlficant, sarcastic smile played
over his features.
"Think; reflect one single moment. Is
there not some secret connected with
your present situation which you might
not wish to be known In certain quar
ters?" replied Le Bland.
"None in which I wish you to feel In
terested," returned Rosalthe. "I do not
wish to have any further conversation
with you."
"There Is a place called Boonesbor
ough," said the Frenchman, and a fam
ily there by the name of Alston," he
continued.
Our heroine made no rejoinder, but
felt herself trembling In every limb.
"Mr. Alston had a fair daughter whose
name was Rosalthe."
"I know what you would say," replied
Rosalthe. "I knew the words that hang
upon your lips for utterance. What my
present situation may be, it cannot be
bettered by you. I would not trust my
self with one who has proved himself
so recreant to all that is honorable."
"You speak proudly and bitterly,"
Rosalthe Alston. Captivity has not
turned your haughtiness and intractihil
ity of spirit. I find you just the same
but more cold, if possible. It was your
father's wish that you should cultivate
a far different deportment toward one
who is willing to be your slave."
"Monsieur Le Bland, the time has
passed when such language could be re
ceived with even a semblance of cour
tesy. Since your true character has
been revealed to me in the light of day,
and there can no longer he doubt In
relation to that subject, I shrink from
you with unspeakable repugnance."
"It has come to this, then!" exclaimed
Le Bland. "You speak out at last; you
throw aside the flimsy mask Imposed
by respect to your parents, and stand
before me as you are; and I cast off
mine. The period of dissimilation has
gone forever. Gentle speech and the
soft fooleries of love cannot affect you;
I must woo yon as the gallant knights
of olden times sometimes wooed fair
ladies by sterner arts."
"I cannot for a moment doubt your
Inclination to commit any species of vil
lainy, since you have betrayed those who
have loaded you with kindness. Alas!
those most dear to me may already be
bleeding in aavage hands! Boouesbor
ough may even now be wrapped in
flames.
"Yes; Boonesborough is Invested by
a great army. Du Quesne has sat down
before It; It Is threatened by fire and
water. Many of its defenders have fall
en. All faces there are as white as those
of the sheeted dead; all hearts feel the
Icy touch of despair. Women and chil
dren are quaking with horror; tears flow
like rain; cries and prayers go up to
heaven like a burden of terrible agony,"
said Le Bland.
"And you, the author of this great
wrong, can speak of it calmly!" cried
Rosalthe. "I would that I could see this
Captain Du Quesne. I would throw my
self at his feet anil entreat him to have
mercy on the helpless ami the innocent.'
"Bat little would you move him," re
plied Le Bland, with a sarcastic smile.
"I know him better than you."
"If he can bring such misery on
Boonesborough, he Is not a man; he Is a
fiend."
"He was ready to fire the station
when I came from there."
"Merciful heaven! IIow cruel Is the
heart of man!" exclaimed Rosalthe.
"There la yet a solitary hope of sav
ing Boonesborough, although Invested
by four hundred savage, led by Da
Quesne and stimulated br the arts of
Girt and McKee."
"What Is that hope?" asked Rosnlthe.
"It is a hope as slender as the finest
thread ever spun into the woof of pM"
er's web."
"Name it be quick!"
"It is a hope fainter than the breath
of the dying zephyr. It Is a hope as dis
tant as the far-off planets; as cold as the
frozen ocean."
Rosalthe clung convulsively to Monon
for support, looking wildly at Le Bland.
"It is this: If you will listen to the
wishes of your father (and duty to par
ents is strictly enjoined in the Book of
Books, the army shall be withdrawn
from Boonesborough," said the French
man calmly, bending upon Rosalthe a
keen and penetrating glance.
"Can this man be trusted Tr she ex
claimed. "It is terrible to think of being
his wife!"
"And is there not something equally
appalling In the fate of Boonesbor
ough?" asked the Frenchman, whose
hopes In this new device momentarily
grew stronger.
"I doubt your power to do this. Bring
me face to face with Captain Du
Quesne," returned Rosalthe.
"You have your wish; I am Captain
Du Quesne," answered Le Bland, draw
ing himself up proudly and smiling cold
ly at the amazed expression that passed
over the face of Miss Alston.
"You Du Quesne?" cried the latter.
"Aye, Miss Alston, I am that mon
ster," was the Ironical rejoinder.
"It has only required this declaration
to make my repugnance complete. If
you have no other condition to offer,
Boonesborough must indeed perish!"
returned Rosalthe, In despairing accents.
"Think of those you love; have re
spect to the gray hairs of your father
to cherished wishes of the kindest of
mothers. To know the danger to which
your friends are exposed, you must go
with me, you must look upon the paint
ed faces; you must witness on their red
visages the impatience which they feel
to dip their hands in gore. If the spec
tacle does not move you, you are com
posed of sterner material than I im
agine." "Go with you? I would not look on
the doomed station."
"But I shall not consult your wishes;
you shall see Boonesborough assailed
with fire and sword, and behold the des
truction of all the inhabitants by hands
that know no mercy."
Du Quesne gave a shrill whistle, and
three savages appeared, who instantly
seized the two maidens. Both called for
assistance; but their cries were Imme
diately stopped, and they were placed
on horsebock. In a few minutes they
were moving off through the forest at
a rapid rate in the direction of Boones
borough. (To va continued.)
ALLIGATORS IN CAPTIVITY.
Zfot .Hard to Raise, but Are Canni
bals and Eat Their Young.
Probably as long as alligators have
been known the young have been kept
as curiosities and most amusing pets
do the little fellows make. Unlike the
young other wild animals, which are
sometimes domesticated when small,
they grow very slowly, especially when
out of their natural environment, and
are consequently well adapted for this
purpose, as a number of years elapse
before the alligator is large enough to
be troublesome or even dangerous. Al
ligators do not appear to be very in
telligent, the recognition of the person
who feeds them In captivity being
about the limit of their mental attain
ment The older ones are sluggish and
lazy, though they sometimes fight vi
ciously with each other and are capa
ble of doing terrible execution when
aroused, says the Scientific American.
If properly taken care of the young
alligator will thrive even In unnatural
circumstances. Ills main requirement
is sulflcient heat, and if the box or cago
be kept at too low a temperature the
little reptile becomes languid and al
most torpid, refuses to eat for long pe
riods and frequently dies at the end of
some weeks. If, however, the teiiera
ture of the nlr be raised or the tank
wherein he lies be warmed by the ad
dition of a little hot water he soon re
vives and attests his continued interest
in life by renewed activity and the re
appearance of his appetite. Unlike the
older members of his family, the young
alligator in captivity Is quite lively ;
sometimes of an investigating turn of
mind, and usually combative, his antics
are often diverting. If he can escape
from his cage he will travel consider
able distances and unless overcome by
cold will wander indefinitely, subsisting
as best he can.
Many ieople who have attempted to
keep alligators have made the mistake
of trying to feed them on a vegetable
diet, for the alligator Is first and last a
carnivore. The diet of the young, who
should be fed nearly every day, is sim
ple and consists of bits of fresh meat.
Inserts and worms. They often show
great fondness for the ordinary earth
worms and will frequently refuse all
food but those. The larger specimens
In captivity are fed atwut three times a
week on fresh meat or small live ani
mals and they require little attention
other than this.
The older ones, particularly the
males, will If possible eat the small al
ligators with avidity, and to check
these cannibalistic tendencies the rep
tiles must be properly segregated.
Alligators seldom breed In captivity
and, while the females sometimes lay
eggs, the latter are usually unfertile.
However, the eggs that have len
found In a natural condition In the cu
rious eone-shaied mud nests are easily
hatched by the application of heat and,
while the young are at first feeble and
helpless, they usually survive If care
fully handled. Alligators live to be of
great age and there are a number of
authentic records where Individuals
hare been known to exist for nearly a
century.
News comes from Strassburg that a
large bust of the late President Kro
ger, destined to mark his grave In
Pretoria, has Just been completed by
a sculptor at Saargemund, Lorraine.
. i r,rm fft , .. . REVIEW Or BOWIE'S
J Cut Down the Acreage. Af -
jSsyU; Farui labor Is growing scarcer each I fr" m r
-- - - - - vonr- it ia nii.,,w inwwtua ill n to keen I tv.i .j" ' rassi
.-SS-" mmI&ZjfJ tue boys on the farm and equally lni- Xttjt&rZ, f J
Feeding the Calf Easily.
The calf is a stubborn little thing
md Is quite averse to being taken
from its mother, so that, oftentimes,
the problem of feeding it is not the
jaslest one in the world to solve; Any
irrangemeut which will do the work
readily Is warranted and one of the
best plans we know of can be evolved
from the following ; Keep the calf In
i pen of some kind with a solid front
rhen cut a square opening In the front
lust big enough to receive the feed pall.
Hinge the piece that Is cut out to
iwlng In. Then put chains, ropes and
traps to the side of the openings and
attach to the cut out portion by means
f staples. The chain must be just
long enough to allow the cut-out sec
tion (B) to drop down level as shown
In the lower part of the cut although
the chains do not show In this part of
the Illustration. A cleat Is nailed on
the outer edge of the cut-out portion
(B) and another on the outside of top
-O 2
FOB FEEDING THE CALF.
edge of opening. The pail Is set In
position from the outside and the cleat
at the top of opening and outer edge
of cut-out portion prevents the pail
from being overturned or the contents
from spilling out This plan does away
with the annoyance of trying to set a
pail full of milk over Into the pen of a
hungry calf who, In his haste, usually
knocks It out of the hands of the
feeder.
Pumpkins in the Corn.
Those who have stock on the farm,
cows, sheep, swine or poultry, will find
the old-time plan of planting pumpkin
seeds among the corn a good one to
hold on to, provided they will harvest
the pumpkins carefully, store them as
carefully and feed them to the stock
during the winter. Pumpkins are read
ily kept through the winter, and by
watching them carefully and using the
specked ones first, they will go through
the winter and supply tfie stock with a
much needed variety. They can be fed
to ndvantage to all of the stock named,
only being careful In feeding to poul
try to chop the pieces finely after re
moving the skiu. The pieces seem to
be particularly enjoyed by the fowls
when mixed with meat scraps, and the
whole mixed with bran and moistened
with skimmed milk fed quite warm.
Prise Yearling Merino Ham.
This yearlng Merino rain, owned by
Uriah Cook of Union County, Ohio,
won first prize at the Indiana State
Fair, and also at the 1903 Illinois State
Fair. His dam was first prize and
champion winner at some of the lead
ing fairs in the country, and his sire
produced many noted rams, a number
of which were sold in South Africa.
At the time this picture was taken the
ram was a little over 20 months old
and his weight was 150 pounds. He
was fed a mixed ration of corn, oats
and bran once or twice a day and run
on bluegrass pasture In the summer
land plenty of good clover hay In the
winter, and was housed from storms.
Self-tllnder Han on Skids.
A Minnesota farmer writes: Farm
ers on the Minnesota side in the Red
River Valley tried a new scheme in
harvesting grain last season. Exces
slve rains Just before and during the
harvest season so flooded the grain
.fields that it was lnoHsible to get
I into them with the binder on wheels.
The grain stood up all right as it does
'In that country, but the ground was
Unn soft to enable the binder to do Its
Some cenlus conceived the Idea
V va
of putting the binder on skids, putting
on horses enough to pull It through
sled fashion, meanwhile running the
binding machinery with a small gnso
snHne. A larce acreage of Brain
!1U7 O
was cut In this way and saved which
would otherwise have been a total low.
TFARIJXQ MERINO RAM.
Cut Down the Acreage.
Farm labor is growing scarcer each
year; it is almost Impossible to keep
the boys on the farm and equally im
possible to obtain labor from the cities
that is of any use on the farm. Some
of the iKor men in the great cities
would be Infinitely better off In the
country where they and their children
might gain health and vigor, but it is
next to impossible to keep them on the
farm even if one gets them there, for
they prefer the crowded tenements to
the little cottage in the country.
Every employing farmer will testify
that this is the truth. The alternative
then seems to be a reduction of acreage
and more care and 'fertilizer given to
the portion cultivated ; In other words,
special crops and intensive culture.
Poultry raising offers one avenue of
escape from the no-labor question, up
to a certain limit Small fruit culture
another in sections where women and
children may be had to pick the fruit
After these oue must get down to the
growing of crops which be can handle
by himself, aiming to get quality and
quantity from a small area. In some
sections farmers are combining and,
under an agreement, are turning cer
tain portions of their farms into crops
best suited to them, hay when possi
ble, and jeach helps the other during
harvest, the period when the lack of
help is most felt Look Into the ques
tion of reducing the area seriously ;
It Is worth considering before giving
up farming as many are doing yearly.
From In tu re to Barn.
Those who advocate ihe use of dogs
In driving the cows to and from the
pasture may be right, provided they
have the right sort of a dog, but there
are few dogs that can be trusted to
do their duty properly ; none, unless
they are trained from puppy hood. The
average dog consigned to this work
barks and generally annoys the animals
until they are more or less frightened,
some of them fighting, and all of tln'in
running. This running the cows from
the pasture to the barn does much
more injury than generally supposed,
and assuredly makes the flow of milk
much loss. The supply of milk de
pends very largely upon the condition
of mind of the cow ; If she Is happy
and contented, she gives down her milk
freely, and the food she consumes
makes rich milk of the best quality ;
if she is frightened, her milk loses
both In quality and quantity.
Cold Frame for Vegetables.
No market gardener could do with
out cold frames and conduct his busi
ness profitably. For extra early vege
tables and extra-late ones they are
equally necessary. Then, too, they are
such a help In the way of giving many
AN IDEAL 1'I.AIE FOB COM) FUAMES.
kinds of hotbed plants a good growth.
But, useful as they are, cold frames
are seldom used In private gardens, ex
cept of the rich. Yet they are not ex
pensive and are very easy to make.
The best place for a cold frame Is
on the south side of a hill. There, pro
tected from the cold north winds, the
plants get the full heat of the sun and
make great growth long before It Is at
all possible to grow them in the open.
To make a cheap cold frame all that
Is needed are a few boards, and, In
the absence of sash, a frame covered
with well-oiled cotton cloth. This pro
tects from rain and from moderate
cold. Extreme cold would have to be
shut out by covering with carpet, an
old blanket or hay, straw or any other
light material that makes good cover.
The sun does not shine with full force
through the cloth, but gives heat
enough for most plants. In the Illus
tration, the cold frame of Professor R.
L. Watts is an Ideal place to force a
rapid growth.
Well Drained Soli for Frnlt Trees.
Even the plum, which will stand
more wet than any other class with
the Mssible exception of the quince, re
quires that the soil be well drained ;
there Is a difference between a moist
soil and a wet soil, and a soil may
be well drained yet be moist It Is
next to Impossible to exiect adequate
results for time and labor expended In
raising fruit In orchards unless the soil
Is placed In projier condition. No
fruit tree will thrive on soil that Is
wet whether the wet le on the sur
face or lKMieath It. Any soil with depth
enough to supply fertility to the tree
roots will grow fruit trees, for even
If It Is not rich enough It can le made
so provided It Is not so sandy that the
fertilizer goes leyond the reach of the
roots or so wet that the roots rot In
stead of grow. The wet soil can be
subdued by draining and the sandy soil
put In proper condition by stable ma
nnre or by growing any crop which
will supply humus and plowing such
crop under.
When pigs are well born, they make
good growth If they have plenty of
grass, shade, water and a little grain
to keep them In flesh and to keep them
gentle.
I
JOUIt LXXAKDEH DOWW.
1888 Lands at San Francisco with
$100 In his pocket
1890 Arrives In Chicago and begin
preaching in the streets.
1892 Establishes a divine healing
mission at Stony Island avenue and C3d
street
1894 Opens headquarters and estab
lishes a bank and newspaper at Michi
gan avenue and 12th street.
1899 Inaugurates metropolitan cru
sade, preaching nightly In different
parts of the city. Mobbed by hoodlums.
1900 Purchases site of Zlon City
and conducts crusade in England.
1901 Starts factories at Zion City.
Declares himself to be Elijah III or
Elijah the Restorer.
1902 Negotiates for Mexican planta
tion and Texas land for colonization
purposes. Refused credit by Chicago
merchants. Ordered to refund $.")0,0(K)
to Frederick Sutton of New Zealand,
who had Invested In Zion.
1!03 Receives Jarge contributions
and tithes from his people In the fa
mous collection barrel. Lends the Zion
Restoration host of 3,000 workers In
eight speclnl trains on a religious visi
tation to New York. Creditors press
claims and Zion placed In hands of a
federal receiver during several weeks.
1904 Departs on mission around the
world, via -San Francisco and Austra
lia. Returns six months later and
takes title of First Apostle of his
church.
1905 Gets an option on 700,000 acres
of Mexican land and makes trip to com
plete colonization plans. Stricken with
paralysis on his return to Zlon City,
After a second stroke leaves for AYest
Indies.
1900 Makes Wilbur Glen Volivn dep
uty general overseer of the Christian
Cnthollc Church and the Zlon Indus
tries. TESTIMONIAL FOE CARNEGIE
ON HIS METHOD OF SPELLING
fieg "& 4&u I
Andrew Carnegie recently has ap
peared as the financial backer of i
commission of learned men to "reform"
spelling and make It more phonetic.
Many unnecessary letters should lie
omitted. It Is th6 learned men's opin
ion, and sound should be consulted
more than derivatives. New York Her
ald. Wedding Customs In Turkey.
The Dowry of a Turkish bride Is fix
ed both by law and custom and must
not exceed a sum equal to $1.70 In
United States currency. On no pre
text can this amount be made greater
or less, even though the parents le ex
tremely Mor or Immensely ' wenlthy.
The wedding Is invariably set for
Thursday, the festivities leglnnlng on
the previous Monday and lasting four
days. The merrymaking Is carried on
by the men and women separately, and
each day Is distinguished by a change
Ir. eerc-monles. On no account will
Turks allow spoons, forks, knives or
wine on the table when eelebruting a
wedding.
No l'e Espeetlng Her to Forget.
I know that spring Is coming," she
sane.
"Yes, confound It" groaned her hus
band, "you bet you do, and there Isn't
'any likelihood that you'll forget It
! either. Oh, well, come on, I may as
J well know the worst right at the start
j What's it going to cost this year?"
unicago Kecord-iierald.
Too Slgalfleaat.
"What did the wife pnt on Gay
boy's tombstone V
I "The simple phrase 'Feaee to Ilia
'Ashes.'"
I "Ashes t Oonldnt she think of any
thing less significant of Gay boy's abode
In the other world!" Pittsburg Press.