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About Beaver State herald. (Gresham and Montavilla, Multnomah Co., Or.) 190?-1914 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 22, 1909)
fbe Redemption 2! flàvid Çorson By CHARLES FREDERIC GOSS Cevrrtsb*. I’M. *• Th. h™ M« t O1 C««r**J =• AU Ittshu “rnr il .=----- E announce with a great deal of pleasure a serial that is somewhat exceptional, even in these days of active fiction. It is a story of unusual power, of wonderful pathos and yet dealing with practical, every-day life in a way that stirs the soul and teaches a lasting lesson. The story begins with a description of ic home and life of David Corson, a young luaker. whose career has been so peaceful and uneventful that when a traveling mountebank and his beautiful assistant. Pepeeta. visit the town, the glare and glamour of tinsel and excitement lead David to turn his back on the old life and plunge into the wide world he had only read about previously. David is entranced by the beauty of the peerless g:rl. He is led into a mad whirl of pleasure by the mountebank. Finally, he induces Pepeeta to desert her husband and flee with him. A rivivalist brings David back to a sense of his misspent life. It is a marvelous life study. Everybody should read it CHAPTER L Hidden away In thia worn and care- encumbered world ar» »pots ao quiet and beautiful a» to make th» fail of man seem incredible, and awaken In the breast of th» weary traveler who come» suddenly upon them, a vague and dear delusion that he has stum bled Into Paradise. Such an Eden existed In the extreme western part of Ohio in the spring of ISO It was a valley surrounded by wooded hills and threaded by a noisy brook which hastily made Its way. as If upon some errand of Immense Im portance. down to the big Miami not many miles distant. A road cut through a vast and solemn forest led into the valley, ’and entering as If by a corridor and through the open portal of a temple, the traveler saw a white farm-house nestling beneath a mighty hackberry tree whose wide-reaching arms sheltered It from summer sun and winter wind. A deep, wld» lawn —f bluegrass lay in front, and a garden ■of flowers, fragrant and brilliant, on its southern side. Stretching away in to the background was th» farm newly •arced out of th» wilderness, but al ready in a high state of cultivation. In this lovely valley, at the cloa« of a long, odorous. sun-drenched day In •arly May. the sacred silence was bro ken by a raucous blast from that most unmusical of instruments, a tin dinner horn. It was blown by a bare-legged country- boy who seemed to take de light In this profanation. By his side, in the vine-clad porch of the white farm-house stood a woman who shad ed her eyes with her hand as she look ed toward a vague object tn a distant meadow. She was no longer young. As th» light of the setting sun fell full hpon her face It seemed almost trans parent. and even the unobserving must have perceived that some deep experi ence of the sadness of life had added to her character an Indescribable charm. "Thee will have to go and call him. Stephen, for I think he has fallen Into another trance," the woman said. In a low voice In which there was not a trace of Impatience. The child threw down his dinner horn, whistled to his dog and started. Springing up from where he had been watching every expression of his mas ter's face, the shaggy collie bounded around him as he moved across the lawn, while the woman watched them with a proud and happy smile. Unutterable and Incomprehensible •motions were awakened In the soul of the boy by the stillness and beauty of the evening world. His senses were not yet dulled nor his feelings jaded. Through every avenue of hts Intelli gence the mystery of the universe •tole Into his sensitive spirit. If a breeze blew across the meadow he turned his cheek to Its kiss; If the odor of spearmint from th» brookside was wafted around him h» breathed It Into his nostrils with delight He saw the shadow of a crow flying across the field and stopped to look up and listen for ths swish of her wings and her loud, hoarse caw as she made her way to the nesting grounds; then he gased beyond her. Into the fathomless depths of the blue sky. and his soul was stirred with an Indescribable awe But It was not so much the objects themselves as the spirit pervading them, which stirred the depths of the child's mind. The little pantheist saw God everywhere We beetow the gift of language upon a child, but the feel- tngs which that language serves only to Interpret and express exist and glow within him even If he be dumb. And this gift of language la often of ques tionable value, and had been co with him. All that ho felt, filled him with love. To him the valley was heaven, and through It Invisibly but unmistak- —bly God walked, morning, noon and •Mating. To the child sauntering dreamily and srtstfully along, the object dimly seen from the farm-houee door began grad ually to dissolve Itself Into a group of living beings Two horses were at tached to a plow; one standing in the lush grass of the meadow, and the oth er In a deep furrow traced acroea Its surface. The plowshare was burled deep Ln the rich, alluvial soil and a ribbon of earth rolled from Its blade like a pet rifled sea billow, crested with a cluster of daisies white as the foam of a wave Between the handles of the plow and leaning on the crossbar, his back to the horses, stood a young Quaker His broad-brimmed hat. set carelessly on the back of his head, disclosed a wide, high forehead; hie flannel shirt, open at the throat, exposed a strong, colum nar neck, and a deep, broad chest; his sunburned and muscular arms were folded across his breast: figure and posture revealed the perfect concord of body and soul with the beauty of the world; his great blue eyes were fixed upon the notch In the hills where the sun had just disappeared; he gazed without seeing and felt without think ing. The boy approached this statuesque figure with a stealthy tread, and pluck ing a long spear of grass tickled the bronzed neck. The hand of the plow man moved automatically upward as If to brush away a fly. and at this un conscious action the child, seised by a convulsion of laughter and fearing lest It explode, stuffed his fists Into his mouth. In the opinion of this ir reverent young skeptic his Uncle Dave was In a "tantrum" Instead of a "trance.” and he thought ouch a dis ease demanded heroic treatment For several years this Quaker youth. David Corson, had been the subject of remarkable emotional experiences. In explanation of which the rude wits of the village declared that he had been moon-struck; the young girls who adored his beauty thought he was tn love, and the venerable fathers and mothers of this religious community believed that In him the scriptural prophecy. "Your young men shall see visions," had been literally fulfilled. David Corson himself accepted the last explanation with unquestioning faith. The life of this young man had been pure and uneventful Existence tn this frontier region, one» full of the tragedy of Indian warfare, had been j gradually softened by peace and rellg- > Ion. In such a sequestered reglor* books and papers were scarce, and he had access only to a few volume» writ ten by quletlsts and mystics, and to that great mine of sacred literature. I the Holy Bible. The seeds of knowl- I edge sown by these books In the rich soil of this young heart were fertil ized by the soefsty of noble men, vir tuous women, and natural surround ings of exquisite beauty. None of these reflections disturbed the mind of the barefooted boy. Hav ing suppressed his laughter, he tickled the sunburnt neck again. Once more the hand rose automatically, and once more the boy was almost strangled with delight. The dreamer was hard to awaken, but his tormentor had not yet exhausted his resources. No gen uine boy Is ever without that funda mental necessity of childhood, a pin, and finding one somewhere about his clothing, he thrust It Into ths leg of the plowman. The sudden sting brought the soaring saint from heaven to earth. In an Instant ths mystic was a man, and a strong one, too. He seized the unsanctlfled young repro bate with one hand and hoisted him at arm's length above his head. "Oh. Uncle Davs. I’ll never do It again! Never! Never! I.et me down." Still holding him aloft as a hunter would hold a falcon, the reincarnated "spirit” laughed long, loud and mer rily. the echoes of his laughter ringing up the valley like a peal from a chime of bells. The child's fear was needless, for the heart and hands that dealt with him were as gentle as a woman's. The youth, resembling some old Norse god as he stood there tn ths gathering gloom, lowered the child slowly, and printing a kiss on hts cheek, said: 'Thae little pest, thee has no revsr- ence! Theo should never disturb a child at hts play, a bird on hts nest nor a man at his prayers." "But thee was not praying. Uncle Dava," the boy replied. "Thee was only in another of thy tantrums The supper has grown cold, the horses are tired and Shop and I have walked a mile to call thoa Grandmother said thee had a trance Tell me what thee has eeea In thy visions Uncle Davet" "God and Hie angels." said the rxung mystic softly, falling again tn!» th» mood from which he had b«»n ao rude ly awakened. "Angel»!" scoffed ths young mate rialist. "If ths» was thinking of any angsl at all. I wtU bet th»e It aas lX»r- othy Fraa»r.~ "Tush, child, do not bs silly." replied the convicted culprit. For It was easier than h» would oar» to admit to mlngl» visions of b«auly with those of holt- r. ««a "1 am not silly. Th»» would not say th»« was not thinking of h»r. thinks of th««" N»*, St«,«,. H**s V*»v Veg»S«M»«. "How do»» th«« know?" "B«cau«e she gives m» bread Instead of keeping the vegnlablsa In jam if I so much as mention the name barrels or boz»s scattered all over th» Uncle Dava, was It really up this very .-•liar. I have made a set of storage vall«y that Mad Anthony Wayne !>lus. Hook six drygootl, box»» and marched with hts brave soldiersT" bolted them togvther aa shown In ths "This very valley " drawing. I put legs on them to hold ”1 wish I could have been with him." “It la an »vtl wish. Th«« Is a child them off th« floor and a cover on tho of peso« Thy fathsr and thy father's box. Than I painted on th» boxes th» father» hav» denied th» right of m»n name» of th» vegetables we generally to war Th«« ought to b» Ilk» them store. Thia makes a neat and handy and love tha things that make for itorag« bln. and Is well worth the lit- peaoa." :!• time It takes to make IL Itofor» “W«ll. If I can not wish for war. ! we had this bln we stored ths different will wish that a runaway slave would vegetables tn barrels, boxes, washtuba, «lash up this valley with a pack of lard cans, or any reeeptacls that hap- bloodhounds at his heels Oh. Uncle LMve, tell me that story about thy hid psnsd to b« at hand when we harvest ing a negro tn ths haystack, and chok Ing the bloodhounds with thine ow hands ** **I have told thee a hundred times •"But I want to hear It again.“ “Use thy memory and thy Imagine tlon.“ CAR son The child, bounding forward, the tired procession entere<1 the barnyard. The plowman fed his horses, and stop ped to listen for a moment to their deep-drawn sighs of contentment, and COTATXJf j to the musical grinding of the oats In thslr teeth. His Imaginative mtnd read his own thoughts Into everything, and he believed that he could distinguish In these Inarticulate sounds the words *Qood-nlght. Good-nlghL’’ VKUKTARl.’S art) SAUS not -Good-night." he said, and stroking their great flanks with his kind hand, ed the crop. These were scattered left them to their well-earned repoae. about the cellar promiscuously, and On his way to the house he stopped to sometimes we knew where to find what t>athe his face tn the waters of a we wanted and sometimes we did not. spring brook that ran acroea the yard, There 1» nothing mor» satisfying to a and then entered tho kitchen where farmer's wife than to be able to take supper was spread a friend Into a cellar where everything “Thee Is late," said the woman who Is neat and tn order.—A O. Griner In had watched and waited, her fine face radiant with a smile of love and wel Fanm and Home. come "Forgive me, mother." he replied. "1 have had another vision." “I thought as much. Thee must re member what thee has seen, my son." she eald. ’’for all that thee beholds with the outer eye shall pass away, while what thee sees with the Inner eye abides forever. And had thee a mssage, too?" "It was delivered to me that on ths holy Sabbath day I should go to ths camp In Baxter’s clearing and preach to the lumbermen." "Then thee must go. my so n." "I will,“ he answered. taking her hand affectionately, but with Quaker restraint, and leading her to the tabla The family, consisting of the mother, an adopted daughter Doro hea. th» daughter's husband Jacob and son Here's a good method of ventilating Stephen, oat down to a simple but bountiful supper, during which and »n ordinary stable. Intake flues are late Into the evening the young mys- ’ onstructed In the side walla. The ven tie pondered tho vision which he ba- illation flues will take up considerable lieved himself to have aeon, and tho >l«ce but are mor» efficient than a message which he believed hlmslf to •Ingle flue. Openings ar» at or near have heard. In hla musings there was the floor level and the tops several feet not a tremor or a doubt; he would have as soon questioned the reality of above the ridge of th« roof. Cap« or tho old farm-house and the faces of -owl» may be placed over them to keep tho family gathered about the tabla out rail and snow. He was a credulous and unsophisti cated youth, dwelling In i realm of imagination rather than in a world of reality and law He had much to loam. His education was about to begin, and tc begin ng does all true and effective education, in a spiritual temptation. Tho Ghebers say that when their groat prophet Ahriman was thrown Into the fire by the order of Nimrod, tho flames into which he fell turned Into a bed of roses, upon which he peacefully re clined. Thio Innocent Quaker youth had been reclining upon a bed of roses which now began to turn Into a couch of flames. (To be continued.) Trllin« Cocoa from Chocolate. The consumer often wonders what is the difference between cocoa and chocolate. Both are manufactured from the Identical bean, but In cocoa the butter has been extracted and chocolate has other substances mixed with It. Cocoa Is thus more easily di gested. but not so rich and alluring. The butter when extracted Is sold to druggists for various purposes, chiefly that of a skin food. The first process in the manufacture of chocolate or cocoa Is cracking the bean, which Is done by machinery and air The blast of air blow, the shells out. as they are lighter than the meat, and thus, after cracking the aepara- tlon of the fragile shell from the nutrl- five nut Is absolute. The bean Is roasted and ground Into a paste by hot machinery. This Is the only “cooking" the chocolate gejs. this point the differentiation . At takes | place between cocoa and choco- late, The latter consists of cocoa- meat, vanilla and sugar. Various ma- chines 1 (steam-power, not electric) cru^i up the vanilla boan with the cocoa bean and sugar. CT»lnr«e Grndnnf* at Waat Point. Among those who this year receive diplomas of graduation at West Point Military Academy are two Chinese youth»—the flret of their race to win the honor. During their four years’ course they maetered English, Spanish and French In addition to the ordinary military and educational courses The young men entered the academy through a special arrangement with the government, their home govern ment paying all extenses. During the year 190« no fewer than 9,254 different books were published tn the United fl tales This number is IM Issa than during ths prseeding Another arrangement of flues which .» quite effective In securing ventila | tlon. The opening In tbe center of B nay tie provided with a shutter to ;>r«vent too n-pld movement of air. ■teparate outlets may be provided or '.he single cupola aa shown. 1 WHKN FATHER KNOW« IT ALU When comp’ny mine« to our piece That’ji when dad's mouth s< • the l»«ace • You ought to hear him talk' lie reel« off stuff on (freight ear Inada» Un weather signs end brick -paved roads. An* billiard chalk. great,«! drawback to the chick »n business Is that there to not a day's ' let up In ths steady routine of work from ths time an sgg 1« pipped until ths ax closes the hen's history, Il I» natural after the pullste are feathered out and weaned and the rooeters asp arated from them to tel up a llttls In the care bestowed on them This Is a groat mistake If wluter egg» are expected If there Is one thing more than another that ths average poultry man le Hable to err in It I« lack of fresh air In the coops at night. Hllp out ooms hot night about ll o'clock and you will perhaps hesr the thump, thump of restless chickens crowding around against each other, fighting In vatn for a cool, airy epot to ,ls»p In comfort. Or In the morning take a whiff of the fetid, unwholesome str l>e fore letting the chickens out, end you will realise thst night spent under such condition« must prevent the steady, healthy growth necessary tor beat results. This condition of affaire 1« Hable to be worse with Incubator chicken«, because thsy are raised In larger flocke and tbs tendency Is to crowd them more attar taking lliein from th» brooder». W hm Hrna A m Moulting. One of the dlflculttes In poultry raisin« is to get the hens to molt «ar ly. so that thsy will be ready to lay In ths fall and winter, when eggs are high. Left to themselves hsus will taks a lung time to molt, and will not finish until cold weather ssts In They will not then lay until sarly spring and all the profits for lbs winter months are lost. At ths poultry In stltute held In Denver by ths Colors do Agricultural College. W J. It Wil son. s poultry rnsn of long siperlentw. gave his method of cuQtrolling tho molting of hens. As soon ss the hens srs through Isylng be turns them on si fslfs. feeding them dry bran only. In addition, Under this treatment they get thin, Then be feeds them a mlx«d ration of grains and meat, giving a i light feed In the morning and all they : Under 1 will eat at noon and night this treatment they finish molting j quli kly. get new feathers and l»egln laying In September. By October I they are In full laying condition and make a profit through the fall and winter. He'll apeak of baseball, remgreas. soil. The price o’ meat nti’ lawnmower oil; An' add some inure Al out the life on Mara, an* aute tires. An* how to put out coal mine hrvs. When once he has the floor. Things we thought he didn’t know off hla tongue just srrrti to flow As slick as candle greaao; lie give, the cure fur roup In hens Th» principles o' fountain p«hs. Why Itusah) er »anted pese«. When liuosev vl t's due to cum» back home. Th» bast |H>tnta In «n art glass dome Or real estate affairs. Why women spend too much on dmaa. Th» proper moves in gam«-» o' ch.aa. An* breedin* Belgian hares Then, well warmed up. he'll turn co beans An* itfs on board the submarines. Or '»plain th» Incom» tax. An* hew to judge ,<>. h 1 Hahin' lines An' dlfTrsnt kind» o* foreign wlu«e — An' »tat, a million facta Everything he says haa points to It. Even hla Jokes and strenk« o' wit When comp'ny e at our house; Though when there ain't, h» don't say much. An' k»«pa hie face ehwvd round our hutch Aa quiet a» a mouse. IVa when there’s visitors to listen That ha cuts lo«»ss with (feat gab o’hls’n. An* never arts a call But often I s«» ma just tfrln I.Ike she naw holdin* someth'n’ tn When father knows II all. MEM WHO KNEW WHEN TO QUIT. Fleaaelal Ulen«« U ha Did Vul flar <ha Gaaia Till II Killed Then*. A comment not Infrequently heard Alfnlfa fur (ba Diary, Successful dairy fanning depends s In Wall street runs thus: "John !>. great deal on growing ths necessary Rockefeller was the wisest of them He knew when to quit." Ro did feed on the farm. City milkmen can all Ho. more recently, buy high priced feeds and make a Andrew Carnegie It H. Hogere profit, but farmers who ship longer | did James fllllltnsn distances require all the advantage was trying to throw off his harness they can get Alfalfa la getting to be. when struck down. one of the moat Important dairy feeds. ! The New York Journal of Commerce It can be grown In almost any part of says the two grand old men tn th« never the country where there Is sufficient financial world whose health moisture within r«arh of the long tap weens to trouble them are J. P Mor- Neither la root, provided that there Is no rock safe and Jamee J Hill. to Interfere with Its growth. If you ever reported aa suffering from nerv never tried alfalfa, commence now by ous breakdown or aa being compelled These fitting a small plec» of ground vary to visit the spaa of Europe asso- late» ,-w Jog ___ ___________ carefully and make It very rich on , two old friends and top. The new plants ar» delicate and along quietly hut very effectively year require careful feeding until they g»t ' after year, doing big things without permitting these big things to undo started. Moat failure» ar» caused by pvrmi Insufficient preparation of tbe seed tied. them. Mr Morgan does not believe In rw Trail»« llrrrd« for Mills. tiring altogether from business, as 1* In testing several breeds of cows . many case» that have coma under his the Virginia Experiment Station found observation retirement lias Iwen fol that "tn profits on milk the llolstelns lowed by the tortures of ennui and a led with It 92 per Individual per speedy end Mr Hill a few year« ago month; the grades were second with turned over tn any of hla duties to his (4.27. The most profltable cow was son. taule, but he still retains enough Buckeye DeKoi. who milked twenty- 1 offices to keep bls mind from lw«-om- one months, gave 12,49k 4 pounds of Ing rusty, yet not enough tn prevent milk and 524.24 pounds of butter The him from taking an enlightened part profit on th« milk was (201.03 and on in the discussion and solution of large the butter (41.51." public problems, agricultural, «con- otnlc, political and flnaminl When H um * Coogk, America's proud boast that she has Hog, not living tn dusty houses, that herenfter I— no leisure class may have persistent coughs, are. as a rule, slightly modified, as our greatest men suffering from worms An excellent of affaire are baginning tn realize that remedy Is to dissolve one half pound of the making of money and the I neo copperas In warm water and mixing In san t tight for power are not th« b— the slop for 100 head of pigs. This all and end-all of life. dose should be given tor five mornings, then wait a tew dnys. and repeat If Ilowllne Urovn.i for halerallate. necessary. For a smaller number than Those who are curious about birds 100 head give a good dram to each may spend time to great profit In head. looking at the poulterers' shops when game 1s In season There they will Petrylng Prog,a. Profits In dairying do not depend find many rare ahd even valuable so much upon the number of cows specimens that apparently have been kept, but upon the kind. This fact thrown Into the hamper by the man Is being realized more and more as who shot them on the chance of hi« the dairy industry Increase». One r«c«lvlng something from the tandon A very good museum of way to Increase the acreage of a farm drailer. la to Increase the fertility of the soil stuffed birds might be got by simply of a farm; almllarly, one way to in- purchasing those that through 111 luck crease a dairy herd Is to Increase the have found their way Into leadenhall cows' producing power. market.—Country Life. To Mak» the Bena I.ay. It the hen, don't lay. turn them out snd let them dig and hunt In the (round for food. Is the advice of T. F. 'McGrew, In the Country Gentleman Bury small grain where they will And It when they dig. This will Induce them to hunt, and while thus employ ad they will And bugs and worms that will quicken the production of eggs. It Is well to follow this plan aa soon as the spade will turn the ground, for It adds vigor and strength to ths hens and Insures strong, healthy chicks. The lazy, Idle ben Is of no use but to sit about, eat and grow fat. If she will not work, she will not lay. If she will not lay, her life should end, and her tr* carcass grace the table. You can (¿rafting on Willow, rest assured that ths Indolent hen Is A horticultural curiosity Is to be s nonproducer; soon she becomes too seen In the garden of Gloucester tot to lay and too tough to be eaten. tadge. Portsmouth Road, near tan- don. A gooeeberry bush, a currant Hight Tims to Piel. Apple«. bush and an alderberry tree are grow Apples Intended for cold storage ing high up on a willow tree, to which should not be allowed to become too they have by some means become rips on tbs tree. When an apple Is grafted AH are fluorlshlng and fruit fully grown, highly colored, but still is forming on the gooseberry and cur hard, it is In prims condition to be rant bushes picked and stored. It has then ob- tai nod its blghest markst valus be- A <!»«•» ln«»etlcfa«. cause It is most attractlvs In appear Home gardeners use lime and tobac ance and best in quality. If picked be co water for destroying many Insects fore entirely ripe apples deteriorate which prey on plants. A half bushel more rapidly, and It Is best to allow of lime Is emptied into a barrel of wa- sn apple to become a trifle overripe ter, together with a bucketful of to than to pack It In an immature state. banco stems This to well stirred up, Many people have the erroneous opin and after It haa Bottled for a day or ion that apples should be picked be two the clear water Is syringed over fore fully ripe tn order to keep well bushes, killing all Insects that some to eeM storage, but thia to a astotaka within Ito reach. Ho lllds't Tropos«, The girl thuught she would try a little strategy. "Mr. fllowfellow," asked aha, ’’don’t you think two can live as cheaply as one?” "Nothing to It," was the prompt reply. "My chum and I tried It once. Kept bachelor's hall In a flat."—Ixmla- vtlto Courier Journal. Bo llelpfal. "Can't we Instruct th« poor about how to live properly end Improve their general condition?" "Why. certainly we oan I-et us get np a eerie, of lecturM at one of th« fiuhlonahl« hotels."—Loutovtl)« Conrtor-Jounud. Hara to an expression that should be sailed In: "Ho baa made uilstaka^ --U