Heppner gazette. (Heppner, Morrow County, Or.) 1892-1912, August 29, 1907, Image 2

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    THE GIRL WITH
A MILLION
By D. C.
CIIAPTRK X V. ( Gout lnucd. )
The smaller rascal assenting, though
with an evil grace, they walked toward
lVhro-ki's lodging, which was hut half a
mile, distant. Zeno renewed his gay lit
tle matches of song, and Frost's furtive
vs wore everywhere as they went. The
old anarchist was at home, and they were
at ouce admitted to his presence. His
usual air of mournful fatigue was more
than commonly noticeable as he rose to
welcome his visitors.
"After what happened last night, dear
sir," said Zeno, when the greetings were
over, "I thought I could not do less than
wait upon you. But first I saw my
frVnd, Mr. Frost. I believe I have more
than half convinced him of the justice o
the side you take. In fact," smiling a
Frost, "I think I may say he is almost
converted to your side. Hut the wrongs
that are done daily excite him. lie longs
for an immediate result. I have preached
I.tatience in my own way, anil I think we
can extract from him now a promise that
he will abide by your conuiandment."
"Thank you, WroblewskoT." said Dob
roski, brightening somewhat. "I thank
yon also, Mr. Frost. If you are willing
to listen to any words of niiue, I would
counsel nationce. I will not sneak of
moral questions, for there are times when
we must be a law unto ourselves. Bu
I will ask you to look at the prudential
aspect of the case. We want the people
with us in our fight for liberty, and the
way to win them is not to alarm them, to
mutilate them, to scatter fire and death
among them. A man will not give his
good will to him who causes him to live
In terror. Before this fight of ours can
be won many will die by sword and fire,
and to many the cause of tyranny looks
righteous. There are things which it is
not easy to understand, and this is one o
them. Tyrants will claim their sacn
fices, and the sacrifices will be paid. This
Is Inevitable: and it is useless to say that
we dread bloodshed. Let us wTu the
people wherever we can. And do not
think, sir, that national hatreds, however
strong, will ratify the deeds we speak
of."
This speech, for all the oratorical turns
with which it was embellished, was deliv
ered with a weary quietude. Zeno sat
like one enwrapped, and was almost as
eloquently receptive in his silence as
O'Rourke himself could have been. Frost
explored the carpet with his shifty eyes.
There was silence for a little while, and
then Zeno spoke.
"wall. Mr. Frost?" His voice was
hnfhed a little from its common tone.
"What do you say?"
"I say," returned Frost, "that Mr.
Dobroski is more experienced than we
are, and that his voice ought to carry
-weight in our councils. I say that if we
-are to win we must stick together ; and
if there must be a split and it seems
there must be the wise men will throw
-their allegiance on the side of their tried
leaders." Here he gave another lurking
glance at Zeno. "On the side," he added,
"'of authority and experience."
""You declare, then," cried Zeno, In a
tone of triumph, "for Mr. Dobroski?"
"I declare for Mr. Dobroski," said
Frost, without looking up. "Unreserved
ly." "I thank you sir," Dobroski, extending
to him a hand, which Frost did not take
until Zeno nudged him. when he took it
with a shamefaced alacrity.
"There are others I do not despair of,"
aid the beaming Zeno, rubbing his hands.
"They must be approached. But there is
ooe thing" lowering his voice, "there are
wnme among our late friends who will be
tlangerous. To you, sir." Dobroski smil
ei. "But yes," said Zeno, eagerly; "yes,
yes, dear sir." He hurried on rapidly in
Polish, as if the urgency of his interest
In Dobroski drove him to find expression
in his native tongue. "They must be
watched. Indeed, dear sir, in this you
must be guided. We must practice a lit
tle duplicity. It is regrettable, but I can
not help myself. I shall join their coun
cils, offering always such arguments as
you yourself would bring, or as you may
give me for special cases. And since
many of them are blind enough and fools
enough to be suspicious of your good
faith, I, dear sir, shall undertake to watch
you for their side. I shall be able thus
to watch them, and yet to be in constant
intercourse with you."
"That may be as you will," said the
old man, with his melancholy smile. "It
will give at lpast one reasonable voice to
their deliberations. But the position will
be a difficult one to hold."
"Ah, sir," cried Zeno, "a little labor
a little difficulty a little danger. What
are these 7'
"You will not see me for a little while,"
naid the old man. "I am going to the Con
tinent again for a few days. The events
of last night make it necessary that I
should consult with Mr. O'Rourke. I will
advise you of my return. In the meantime
you may do something to restrain the vio
lence of our friends."
"I will try, dear sir," said Zeno, rever
entially, and with that he and Frost
went away.
"What were yon talking about when
you started that foreign lingo?" Frost
asked, when they had reached the street,
Mr. Zeno translated pretty faithfully, but
Frost shook his head at the translation.
"You're a lot too clever for me, you are,"
be muttered, grumbling. "I've seen snakes
In my time, but I never saw your equal."
"Thank you, dear Frost," cried Zeno,
pinching him in a jocose and amicable
way. "You make me proud."
CHAPTER XVI.
On the morning after their tall In the
garden Farley and O'Rourke breakfasted
together alone. After breakfast O'Rourke
took the road to Houfoy. He was walk
ing along with his hands behind him, and
his eyes bent to the roadway, when he
heard a voice which spoke his name and
gave him an actual start.
"Good morning, Mr. O'Rourke said
the voice, and turning swiftly in the
direction from which it came, he beheld
the pretty widow standing in the middle
of the dry water course, alone. She was
vtr; prettily dressed la a light awning
Murray
costume of a faint yellowish tone, with
certain bright devices of flowers about
it everywhere, and she wore a peasant'
hat of straw, twisted into a very coquet
tish shape, and bound about with a ric
silk handkerchief, In which was Bet
silver brooch.
O'Rourke absorbed the charming vision
as a whole. lie leaned to the broad
grass-grown top of the low wall and
raised his hat with a smile. His wavy
reddish hair and his beautiful beard and
mustache shone in the sun like gold, and
his handsome face was as gay as a boy's,
It is not improbable that he looked as
charming to the pretty widow as the
pretty widow looked to him. She came
tripping and blushing and smiling over
the. stones of the river-bed, and O'Rourke
ran down the slope with so excessive an
alacrity that he failed to notice that it
broke suddenly away at the foot. Mrs,
Spry screamed faintly, but O'Rourke,
who was too late to stay himself, made
the necessary leap in safety it was but
nine or ten feet deep, and he had soft
turf to alight on and advanced smiling,
with his crisp hair shining and his right
hand outstretched toward her.
"Good morning," he said, "this is a
delightful encounter for me."
Mrs. Spry had a bouquet of wild flow
era in her right haud and a book in her
left, but she set the flowers in the hoi
low of her arm and accepted O'Rourke's
pi offered hand. He held hers longer than
the absolute necessities of a morning sa
lute demanded, and Mrs. Spry blushed
and drooped her eyes before his ardent
gaze.
"You have been gathering flowers?"
he said, mastering himself by an effort
but even then hardly knowing what he
said. "Quite a charming little nosegay.
She held it toward him and their hands
met again. The small bouquet was not
tied, and lest the flowers should fall he
put both hands to it, taking her right in
his left whilst he gathered the blossoms
together. She felt that his hands were
trembling a little, and he bungled with
the flowers. Just then their eyes met,
the little widow's expressive orbs looked
almost frightened, and O'Rourke was as
white as if he were about to faint or to
be hanged, or to lead a forlorn hope. He
dropped the flowers and took the hand
vhich held the book. The little widow
let the volume fall beside the fallen blos
soms. Mie drooped her head, and the
bosom of the pretty morning dress flut
tered visibly. O'Rourke said not a word
but he gave a great slow sigh and drew
her toward him by the hands. Then he
simply put both arms around her and
stooped and kissed her hot cheek. Still
he said not a word, but his heart beat
like a hammer, and he pressed her to
him as if to stifle its outrageous riot.
"Am I too insolent?" he said at length
The pretty widow did not seem to think
so, for she stood upon her fallen blossoms
with her cheek upon his breast, and made
no effort to escape. "I have loved you
from the minute I first saw you. Can
you can you love me a little;
His tremor was like the tremor of a
lover to the little widow's mind. He
played the part better than he knew.
"Ye-es," said the lady in a whisper,
shrinking into herself as she spoke. Then
there was another lengthy spell of si
lence, broken by the near clash of a
horse's bells and the crack of a carter's
whip. At these sounds they started guilt
ily apart, and O'Rourke, falling upon
one knee, gathered up the dropped posy
and the book, and they walked side by
side, silently, by the dry water course
until they came upon a spot hidden from
the road, where the remaining stump of a
great felled beach made a convenient
seat.
"Shall we sit here for a little while?"
O'Rourke asked. The lady seated herself
in silence, and seeing that 6he had taken
a place too near the center to allow room
for her companion, moved a little, and
drew her dress on one side. O'Rourke ac
cepted the invitation thus dumbly con
veyed, and placing one arm around her
waist, drew her nearer toward him.
"Do you think," he said, not being able
to find anything more original to - say
just then, "that you will be able to learn
to love me just a little?"
The pretty little woman began to trem
ble, and searching blindly for her hand
kerchief, found it at last, and hiding her
face behind it with both hands, began
to cry.
"I I knew," she sobbed, "that It was
wicked, but I I loved you when I saw
you at Boston. I've al-always thought
about you since, and when I came to
Eu-Europe I hoped that I should meet
you.
The ways of the human heart are
strange, but at this confession the fas
cinating patriot experienced a twinge of
shame. For one fleeting second he felt a
genuine bate of humbug.
I will love you very dearly, he said,
a moment later, and he meant it.
What was to prevent hira from loving
her? Nothing, if she could always flat
ter his self-love as well as she had done
just now.
But he had to go back to his pre
tenses. Mature and culture between them
had done so much for him that he had
forgotten bow to walk straight.
"I haven't much to offer you," he said.
I am poor, and I can't give you a grand
home."
She was in such a flutter at the ac
complishment of all her hopes, so glad
and so shaken to think herself this hero's
heroine, this handsome, eloquent, famous,
devoted patriot's chosen, that she was
half hysterical. She dropped her hand
kerchief from her tear-stained eyes, and
lapped both hands together like a child,
and laughed in bis face.
"Why, I've got six million dollars I"
He felt instantly and swiftly he had
played the fool in pretending not to
know that she was wealthy. The very
openness of her statement seemed to say
so. What need had there been for so
illy pretense when she had told him her
own heart so plainly? And with this
swift and Instant sense In his mind he
turned ta sum Into English znoner and
saw that though It was smaller than he i
hud faucied, it was prodigious still. Hut
he was committed to his useless humbug
now, and could not go hack from it.
"Six million dollars?" he said, like a
man amazed. "Twelve hundred thousand
pounds? Oh ! I am glad 1 did not know
that, or I should havo never darwl to
speak. I knew," he went on, to soften
down his blunder, lest it should have
dangerous consequences later on "I knew
that you must havo money, and the
thought frightened me. If I had known
the truth, I should never have dared."
"I am glad, then," she answered, hid
ing her face in her hands, "that you
didn't know."
"It frightens me still," he said. "I
can scarcely dnre to think of it."
"But you do love me, don t you t sne
wnisperea, shrugging ner snoumers
, ,j t.k i
a childish 6hrink ins gesture ot appeal,
and looking up at him through her hands.
"Love you?" he cried, aud throwing
both arms around her he drew her to his
breast. She lay there quite contented,
and he, looking over her shoulder with a
smile that was almost wild, said to him
self, "You have won, Hector you lave
won. You're a made man."
She put up her lips to be kissed in as
matter-of-fact a way as if she had been
a child, though she blushed very prettily
as she did so. O'Rourke put his arms
around her and kissed her, and suddenly,
with a little cry, she whisked away from
him, and ran quickly into the shelter of
the trees. The love-maker, thus abruptly
left, stared after her until she had dis
appeared, and then, turning, started to be
hold the near figure of an elderly man
who was walking away, with a firm reso
lution not to have seen anything express
ed in the very curve of his shoulders.
The slowly retreating figure was that of
Dobroski, whom he had imagined to be
far away in London arranging for the
destruction of empires. What could have
brought him here?
But in a little while, making up his
mind that he had certainly been seen,
and resolving to take the matter ia the
boldest way, he marched at a good round
pace after the retreating Dobroski, and
by and by came up with him. There was
...... . . ,1
a faint twinkle in the eye ot tne oiu
anarchist, though but for that he was
as erave as a statute. The mere fact
of brisk motion seemed to have restored
O'Rourke to his usual condition. He
took the bull by the horns.
"You saw me a minute or two back,
sir .'
The twinkle in Dobroski's eye broad
ened into a smile.
"Forgive me," he said; "I tried not
to see you or to be seen."
"I am going to be married, sir, said
O'Rourke. "And that is my business
over there. It is a secret at present, at
my future wife's desire."
I wish you happy, said the old man,
with an almost fatherly look. "A good
woman is a crown unto her husband. If
you have chosen well your wife will not
hold you back from the great work to
which you have set your nana, u Kounte .
SU1U uviuiut uul lie iiatvutru wan ou on
of deference. "I am here," pursued Dob-
roski, "on purpose to seek you. Can
vou eive me. now. a nine ol your time. , -
"I am nlwnva and entirely at vour ser-
vice, Mr. Dobroski," answered O'Rourke. 1
"Let me ask you one question to be-'
gin witn. ina you Know tne poizcj oi
Mr. Frost and his associates.'
"I have never worked intimately with
them," said O'Rourke, "but I know their
general policy."
We have broken apart, said Dob
roski, mournfully. "I have had to tell
them that we cannot work together."
O'Rourke sighed and threw his hands
abroad with a hopeless gesture. They
might fight it out between them now, but
he had to look as if he cared for fame
little longer, and then he would be free.
lie could already hear the perfervid ora
tory which would pursue him into his re
tirement, and he knew that it would be
powerless to disturb him for a moment.
At least," said Dobroski, "you and I
will go on working together? lie did
not guess the current of his companion's
thoughts how should he? but the si
lence seemed to hurt him.
"Yes," said O'Rourke. He would rath
er not have said it, but it had to be said.
We must go on working, win or lose.
"And I may trust to you until the
end?" the old man asked, laying both
hands upon him and bringing him to a
halt.
O'Rourke lifted his eyes and looked
him in the face. "You may trust me,
he said, "until the end."
(To be continued.)
Made Him Hop.
Hiram llardapple What made
Grandpap Wheatly jump ten feet and
forget his rheumatics when the circus
parade passed? Was he afraid of the
elephants?
Zeke Crawfoot No; he beard the
steam calliope aud thought It was one
of these automobiles with the new-fangled
whistles.
Swell Style.
Eva And you don't object to riding
in a crowded car?
Katharine Not at all.
Eva But don't you know the crowd-
ng aud shoving will disarrange your
hair?
Katharine Oh, I don't mind that
When I get off people think I have a
genuine automobile tousle.
An Exception.
My oldest boy, If I do say It my
self," declared Skinner, proudly, "Is a
thoroughly honest and truthful young
man."
Well, well I" exclaimed Knox. "And
yet some people ln.ist that heredity
figures largely In the development of
character." Philadelphia Ledger.
Too CI a may.
'No," said the customer In the phono
graph emporium," I don't like this style
of born."
You don't?" replied the clerk In sur
prise. "Why, that style of horn breaks
the record."
That's Just the trouble. It breaks
the record every time I put It on."
Patient GlTea a Reminder.
ratlent But isn't this a large fee?
Doctor The Inheritance tax might
be bigger. New York Sun.
Living in Hope,
The habit of living in tbe future
should make us glad ami confident.
We should not keep the contemplation
of another state of existence to make
us sorrowful, nor allow the transiency
of this present to shade our Joys. Our
hope should make us buoyant, and
keep us Ann. It Is an anchor of the
SOIll. All men llvo hv hntio ovon wlinn
It ls flxed upon tbe cuaufilng aml un.
certain things of this world. But the
hopes of men who have not their hearts
fixed upon God try to grapple them
selves on the cloud wrack that rolls
along the flanks of the mountains;
while our hopes pierce within that
veil, and lay hold of the Rock of Ages
that tower above the flying vapors. Let
us then be strong, for our future is
not a dim peradventure, nor a vague
dream, nor a fancy of our own, nor a
wish turning Itself Into a vision, but it
ls made and certlfled by IILm who Is
the God of all the past and of all the
present. It ls built upon Ills Word,
and the brightest hope of all its bright
ness ls the enjoyment of more of His
presence, and the possession of more
of Ills likeness. That hope ls certain.
Therefore, let us live In It Rev. Alex
ander MacLaren.
A Doable Life.
Not many years ago the president of
a large loan company In Canada was
convicted of fraud. For a long time
he had been speculating lu stock until
his defalcations grew to hundreds of
thousands. To keep the facts from the
auditors, he had bee.n obliged to handle
a double set of books, one for his own
personal Inspection, and the other for
the Inspection of the stockholders. The
difficulties Involved lu this double life
Increased until the situation became un
bearable, and he went Into bankruptcy.
There are many men to-day who are
living double lives. The part that the
world sees is plausible and respectable.
The other part ls unclean and repuls
ive. Robert Louis Stevenson's classic
entitled, "Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde," ls
an Interpretation of these dual tenden
cies. Dr. Jekyl ls a physician of re
pute; Mr. Hyde Is the personification
of his baser parts, and he ls debauched
and brutal. These two lives lived in
the self-same town by the self-same in
dividual finally betray their author-
w fln1 tu lnask of respectability Is
torn away. It ls always thus, lhe se
cret sins will Inevitably express them
selves, and the veneer will soon cease
to conceal the trutn. ine ure tnat is
prostituted to sin leaves Its traces, and
a train of hideous penalties follows In
wake.
The
Secret of Strength.
There Is a very famous vine at
Hampton Court, London, which has at
times borne a thousand or more
bunches of grapes, and the secret ls
that the vine sends Its roots hundreds
of yards through the ground to the
Thames, where It gets its moisture and
nourishment. Another vine, to which
great Interest has been attached, ls sit
uated at St. Gabriel's Mission, Califor
nia, and Is estimated to be the largest
and oldest vine In the United States.
It' ls 105 years of age. The stalk is
five feet six Inches In circumference,
and ls Bald to have borne two tons of
grapes In one season. The roots are
said to go down 800 to 500 feet from
the stem, and It Is believed that they
are fed from some subterranean stream
of water.
The man who Is In communication
with the water of life has the secret
of eternal life. He has the guarantee
of "much fruit." The tree that Is
planted by the rivers of water must
bring forth his fruit In his season.
There Is nothing that will ar well prove
the authority of a Christian experience
as its productiveness.
Snnahine and Mnila.
A laugh is just like sunshine ;
It freshens all tbe day,
It tips the peak of life with light,
And drives the clouds away.
The soul grows glad that hears it,
And feels its courage strong j
A laugh ls just like sunshine
For cheering folks along.
A laugh is just like music;
It lingers in the heart,
And where Its melody is heard,
The ills of life depart;
And happy thoughts come crowding
Its joyful notes to greet J
A laugh Li just like music,
For making living sweet.
Christian Work.
Sunshine of Praia.
If you see anything that Is worthy of
praise, speak of It Even If you can
not do a worthy deea yourself, com
mend one who does. Praise is a pow
er for good; both God and man prize
It No prayer is complete without
praise. The best worker for his fellows
who falls to give praise falls of doing
as well as he can. Mrs. Stowe states
the truth effectively when she says:
"Praise Is sunshine; It warms, it In
spires, It promotes growth; blame and
rebuke rain and hall ; they beat down
and bedraggle, even though they may
at times be necessary." Do we do our
part In giving praise? Sunday School
Times.
JOURNEYS IN SAHARA.
pooplo la Mountains of Gharlan Live
la Snbterranaa Dwalllaare.
The London Leader gives an later
sating account of a daring march made
across the Sahara desert by one of the
protectorate residents! In Ilnwn. The
distance traveled was 1,700 miles. In
the mountains of Gharlan Mr. Vlschcr
found people living In subterranean
dwellings. Through entrances ten yards
long and one yard broad he casne upon
a square court yard, which was In real
ity a groat hole open to the sky. Upon
tills all the rooms and stables con
verged. The roams weve very dark and
there were no windows, hut the most
absolute cleanliness prevailed. Round
the court yard wias a wall protecting
the dwelling underneath.
Beyond Gharlan tllio expedition pro
ceeded over rising grounds to the hills,
where fig aud olive groves lay among
Roman ruins and underground villages.
Nearlng Murzurk, Mr. Vlseher came
upon stretches of petrified forests.
Describing part of his Journey across
the waterless desert Mr. Vlseher said:
"We have had a five days' march
across the desert without water. At
the conuneaiceaiient of the desert all
caravans waited for one another, until
our conjoined party numbered over 500
cornels. No caravan dares go through
the desert alone. Everywhere the
ground Is covered with wind-polished
stones, which are gradually themselves
beonmlng sand.
"Everywhere Is an endless horizon.
Often apparently we see lakes and
palm groves, but on all sides are noth
ing but stones, stones, until the sun
disappears and the sky becomes filled
with colors which would have given Joy
to a Titian or a Turner, All otir march
ing is done at night. When we came
to the end of the Ilnnunada, Djamy
Bey and I rode together ahead of the
caravan until we reached the edge of
a black gorge. "This," said the Arabs,
"Is tbe door of the Haminada, the !
waterless stone desert."
Mr. Vlseher reiorts that wrhlle he
was at Rllma a French force from ZLn
der formally took possession of the
oasis. Shortly afterward two French
detachments were 'attacked toy a band
of Taureg, all of wlwan carried mod
ern rifles, and a desperate fight en
sued.
Mr. Vlseher reports that just beyond
the waterless road and the wild Trnn
mo mountains he came Into contact
with a Tuareg and Arab band who had
come out to attack him or endeavor to
get Into the desert ahead to wait for
him.
Mr. Vlseher says: "I at once made
the necessary preparations by putting
all my men on guard and patrolling
myself on horselwck round the camp
ami town to prevent the Tuareg from
Joining the Tublnis against me, for
though they were usually fighting each
other, I had been told that they In
tended to Join forces against the Chris
tians this time. Twice, ait 2 a. m. and
3 a. m., I met Tunreg messengers, who,
however, ran away when I fired.
"In the morning I left the camp In
the charge of my boys and went to
attack the Tuareg before they could
get at me. I found therm After much
difficulty Intrenched In a position which
enabled them to see me while they were
absolutely hidden by some shrubs. I
sent a Tubbu to ask them to come out
ar.d fight me. They answered back
that they would come out when It
would suit them to wipe me out and
take my loads.
"I then fired, ami they answered
with a well-kept-up fire from about
twenty modern rifles. Their shorts all
went over my head or Into the ground
ahead, so that I was able to approach
to within about 200 yards. I killed
one man and four of their camels, and
then went back to my camp, six miles
a way.
"In the afternoon I attacked eg.iln,
this time with all my ten rifles, while
I left the camp In charge of the women
and some friendly native Tubbus. I
killed four of their men and sixteen
camels, which had the desired effect of
driving them back north and keeping
away the Tubbus, who are all cowards.
The great following of Arabs which
had come with tbe Tuareg ihad kept
away to see the result of the fight and
then disappeared. I was not attacked
again on the road."
A Bride's Dilemma.
A humorous romance Is reported
from Natal, where a youthful Hindoo
bride was recently called upon to
choose between her husband and her
jewels The case came before the Dur
ban police court In the first Instance,
where the bride's pnrents, says the
Natal Mercury, accused her husband of
abducting her while under thirteen
years of age. The bride, however,
claimed to be eighteen, and the mngls
trate dismissed the case. Outside the
court a tug of war took place between
the two parties for the possession of
the bride, In the course of which it ap
peared that what her parents particu
larly desired was not herself, but her
Jewelry. A sergeant of police then sat
In Judgment and decided that the Jew
elry belonged to the parents, and ths
girl must choose between her husband
and her bracelets. After some cogita
tion she chose the husband, who
promptly unfastened the bangles from
her arms ana handed them to her
parents.
Hopeloa.
Tom I tell you, old man. Miss Gab
blo certainly has got a pile of money.
Why don't you propose to her?
Dick I've started to do it several
times.
Tom What's the matter? Lose your
courage?
Dick No, but I'm never able to get
a word In edgewise. Philadelphia
rress.
Even In this land of the free no
man has the right to take unwarrant
ed liberties.
NORTHWEST HONORED.
Professor Elliott, of W. 8. C, Con
tributes to Cyclopedia.
It is well known (hat 1'rof. h. II.
Bailey, ol Cornell university, lnis been
working for three years past on an ex
tensive publication to be known as The
American Cyclopedia of Agriculture.
This iB to be published in several vol
umes and It is expected that it will be
accepted by the reading public as the
standard reference work on rural affairs.
It has been many years since such a
work has been attempted and nothing
of such an extensive nature has ever
been undertaken before in America.
Professor Bailey has called to his aid
the best known writers on agriculture
throughout the entire country, who
have written up the various subjects on
which they were recognized as authori
ties. The entire work may be referred
to as the combined efforts of the agri
cultural specialists of America and
when published will no doubt find a
place in the library of most progressive
farmers.
It is significant that when it came to
the very important subject of wheat
that Professor Bailey recognized the
groat Northwest and its place as one of
the leading wheat producing regions by
calling on Professor E. E. Elliott, head
of the Agricutlural department at the
State college of Washington, to prepare
this most important article. This has
been done by Prof. Elliott and the mat
ter is now in the hands of the publish
ers. The article in question consists of
about ten thousand words, with numer
ous illustrations, and would be suffi
cient in itself to make quite a book if
published separately. It covers the
entire subject of wheat production in
America and at the same time atten
tion is particularly called to the great
regions of the jSurthwest where the pro
duction and quality of this cereal have
placed it in tbe f.refront. Our wheat
growers aie to be congratulated in the
fact that the article in question has
been prepared by cne so familiar with
tlw subject and who is doing so much
to advance the industry throug the
work being done by his department at
the state experiment station and at the
various cereal stations established in
the state as well as through the wheat
producers organization which was ini
tiated by him.
AID TO "DRY FARMING."
Washington State College Conducting
Extensive Experiments.
The problem of "dry farming" now
before the farmers cf the semi-arid re
gions of the Pucific Northwest has been
taken up by the Experiment Station of
Washington, and it is hoped to work
out a method of farming for these re
gions which will increaso their crop
bearing capacity. The present opera
tions of experimentation are largely
relative to the physics of soils, and are
in charge of Piofeeeor II. B. Berry, soil
physicist of the State college. Dis
cussing this problem, Mr. Berry stated:
"Among the questions which we
must answer are: What is the best
method of conserving soil moisture?
What is the value of disking the sum
mer, fallow early in the spring before it
can be plowed? What is the value of
the sub-surface packer? If the crop
suffers from drouth, is it because (here
is not sufficient moisture in the soil, or
is it because the plant cannot take the
moisture from the soil?
In the former case we must endeavor
to devise a cultural method to conserve
moisture; and in the latter case, we
must develop a ftrain of plants that
can take moisture from the Boil, which
is a plant breeding problem."
Figs Thrive in Polk County.
Figs as large and perfectly developed
as those raised in the most favored por
tion of California are grown at the town
home of Mrs. E. F. Lucas, in Mon
mouth. Specimens of t he fruit were
brought to Dallas by Mrs. Martha Cos
per, who had been visiting in the nor
mal schcol town. The figs were of de
licious flavor and were far superior to
the California fruit usually iound in
tbe Oregon markets.
Mrs. Lucas' tree is seven years old,
the cutting having been brought from
California in 1900. The tree is making
a luxuriant growth and has already
reached a height of 12 feet. Three
crops of fruit are borne each year. The
specimens brought to Dallas by Mrs.
Copper included ripe and green fruit
of the second crop and half grown fruit
of the third crop. The tree has been
in bearing four years.
Good 'Money in Peach Crop.
Shipments of early Crawford peaches
from Koseburg this year will aggrtgate
a total of nearly 20,000 boxes. This is
the estimate given by E. P. Drew, who
is handling the shipments of the local
fruitgrowers' association, whose mem
bership embraces nearly all of the
peach growers in that vicinity.
Growers have realized good prices for
their product. Peaches of average size
and quality brought fom 65 to 85 cer ts
per box, while those of higher grade
brought as high as $1.25 per box.
After deducting transportation charges,
there prices left the growers a neat
margin of profit. Most of the froit
was marketed in Portland.
Never Heard of Him.
Sunday School Tearhnr Gerald, you
know one of Bunyan's characters U
"Heart's Eap," don't you?
Little Boy -No. ma'am, but if he bad
bunions ha couldn't hav had much
heart's eats.
Coaplcnon Aflrntajt.
"Johnny," said his grandfather, "von
linger too long at tha table. I don't
hurry with my meals, and yet I finish my
dinner befort you ar half through with
yours."
"Huh!" exclaimed Johnny, with his
mouth full. "Ton'vs had sixty year'
mors practice In eatin' than I haTi."