I pa i Iff II Is is Mr ;WV. aw M IB A Jala Df tha Early Settlers! cl Louisiana. I BY AUSTIN C. BURDICK CHAPTER XIII. Several timet had Louise suggested to Loppa the idea of her looking out about the town, but she had been informed that It would Dot be safe. The old negress was firm and uncompromising, but yet kind and considerate as far as her care of her charge's welfare was concerned. Louise had made some examination of the house in which Bhe wag confined, and she was satisfied that ghr"coiiId not escape from it without much .labor and trouble. It was on the fifth day of her sojourn there that she was aroused from a fit of deep thought by the entrance-of Simon Lobois. . He came in with a warm smile upon his face, and after some remarks upon Louise's Improved looks, he took a seat by her tide. She did not shrink from him, ngr did she seem afraid of him, but with a keen gaze she fixed her deep blue eyes upon him. ' "Sweet cousin," he said, in a tone of extreme softness, "why was it ordered that I should be he oue to save you from the jaws of death? Why was I inirlpil nut?" llwj9'ief4iRf-((k Of 'H..." g7T-.invir "J " ' 11 Others, were in duty bound to gave me," reylied Louise. ... "Ila! how so?" the cousin asked, with a slight start, but quickly recovering hiui gelf. "Why, because to yon my father gave me in charge. Because you have received I handsome salary for taking care of me." "I should say that you had shown an early disposition to throw oil the yoke of my authority. "Ah, how so?" "Your own sense will tell you how, Bimon responded, somewhat bitterly. "O, I meant no play upon the past, my cousin. But then you are my near rela tive, you know and hence you ought to gave m!." ' "And this is the gratitude you feel for the service I have done you." "Sow, Simon, you did not ask me how I felt. You only asked me why it wag you were singled out to save me. Most truly, for all of good you have ever done me do I feel most duly grateful. Tor all your acta of kindness to me, you have my deep acknowledgment." Lobois seemed for the moment non plussed by the oft-hand manner in which he" was thus far met, but his forces were goon in order again, and he renewed the attack. "Louise, you remember the eoaverg '.tion we once had in the gtudy?" "Perfectly, Simon. And you remem ber the answers I gave?" replied the girl. "Yea I do remember them; I have re membered them ever since. And now let me assure you that I look upon this gtrange event as an opportunity granted by heaven itself for me to ask those questions over again." "Simon Lobois! Are you In earnest?" "I am. A love such as mine cannot be cramped by the result of one inter view. It has been cherished too long, and has become too deeply rooted. From one less loved I might have turned away under such a rebuff, but not from you. No, no, Louise; I have come now to ask that one question again. Uemember now the debt you owe me; remember the dou ble claim I now have." "Double claim. Simon?" "Ay a double claim. First, the claim resulting from the care I have held for you since early childhood; and, second, this last claim founded in the very av ing of your life." "It was curious that you should have been the one to save me wasn't it?" gflid Louise, looking iuto her companion'g face with an expression he could not ana lyze, though he tried hard to do so. "It was," he replied. "And that you Bhould have landed Just In that place, too?" pursued Louise, with out removing her close gaze from her dark cousin's face. "And how strange that they should have camped dire, tiy by the boat landing, where the whites would be sure to come if they crossed the lake wasn't It? especially when we consider what a repute they have for shrewdness and cunning?" Simon Lobois winced at this, and a perceptible tremor ran through his frame. But he recovered himself with an effort. In a few moments. "It Is strange," he said, "and I have 'often said go since. But I can see in it only the opportunity of pressing my claim to your heart and hand now with more hopes of success. I must ask you now if you will accept the heart aud hand I offer you?" "Simon Lobois, you know I cannot do It," uttered Louise, in a firm, frank tone. "Beware, Louise! I ask you kindly now. I confess my love and I beg of yon to accept it. "A husband's love from you I never can accept, Simon. "Think carefully ere yon speak." "But what mean you? I have thought carefully, and have equally as candidly told you that yours I can never be. Now, what more can you ask?" . "I shall ask but little more," returned Simon, through his set teeth. "I am now In a position to command." "Speak plainly, monsieur." ."Then, plainly you must be my wife!" "But I shall simply apply to the Gov rnor." "That will help you none, for Perier Is my friend, and has pledged me his as sistanee." "But he will listen to the prayer of a ielpless Kirl." "Not when that prayer Is prejudicial to the Interest of big friend. lie is anx ious that all the marriageable females should be married ss soon as possible. In short, my dear cousin, be hag pledged me his word as a man, and as an officer, that you shall be my wife. Now what ay you?" "I should certainly say that he was great scoundrel, returned Louise, re garding her companion with a fixed look, "lou are cool, mademoiselle? "Because I do not believe that you can be In earnest, monsieur." "I am in earnest, Louise! and, more over, yon go not from this place until you are my wife! Do yon understand that?" "If if I thought yoo conld mean it, Simon. I should begin to be alarmed," said the maiden, in tone that would seem to Indicate that she did not really credit the statement she had heard. "I do mean it!" he replied, slowly and meaningly. "Simon Lobois, look me in the eye, nd ssnre me solemnly that yon mean what you have said." Louise spoke this la an earnest, eager tone, with her hands clasp ed and half raised towsrds her dark cousin, snd her lips firmly compressed. It was some moments before Lobois replied. There was something 1 the Hill no iiaiiu deep bine eye that was fixed so earnestly upon him, and in the calm, earnest fea tures that met his gjzc, that moved him more than he had counted upon. But then he was not the man to break down now. He was not the man to give up the frui tion of a hope that he had cherished with his very life for years. He was playing for a gulden stake of immense value, and how that he held the leading hand, he meant to use it promptly, and without compromise ol any kind. "Louise St. Julien," he at length re plied, "I, mean just what I have said. You go not from this house nntil you are my wife! From this purpose I will not swerve." A quick flush passed over the girl's face, and her lip quivered. A momept the thought of spurning the wretch was present with her, but the thought, most probably, of her defenseless position kept her tongue under guard. "Simon," she murmured, after a while of silence, "you Will not be so cruel?" v "And is it cruel to want a beautiful girl, whom one loves, for a wife?" "But what can you want with a wife who can never love you in return?" , "I'll teach you to love me." "As well might you teach me to love the great crocodile I saw the soldiers playing with in the street this morning.' "Then I'll teach you to fear nie!" "You've done that already, monsieur." "So much the better then; you'll mind me the quicker." "But why why should you do this thing V" "I'll tell you," spoke Simon, turning with sudden emphasis upon the ' girl. "There is no need that I should pretend to deceive you, nor could I, probably, if I tried. For many years I .have, bad the charge ot JSur father's books anl "business. You know he is wealthy more wealthy than any other ten men in the colony. When he came here into this joy forsaken wilderness, I came with hiin to help him. The thought came to me, as 1 beheld your mind expanding under my care, that at some future, day I might possess your peart and band, and tiius the half of your father's fortune would be miue. So I strove to make you all I could, and the property I multiplied as fust as possible. The wealth has grown In bulk under my care, and now I am not ready to give all up. I am not willing to nee the hopes of a lifetime blasted just from the mere whim of a capricious girl." "But do you think my father will allow his property to fall into your hands when he knows that I married you from abso lute compulsion?" asked the fair girl, earnestly. , .'',.' ; ' "He cannot well help It. He cannot cut me oft without cutting you off, too." But be will demaud a dissolution of the union tietween us." Ha! he cannot gain it If he does. I am prepared there, and I know the ground on which I stand. The king has empowered the company to frame domes tic regulations to meet the wants of the colony, and they have already passed a resolution that every sane, gound girl, of geventeen years or upwards, shall marry, if proposal is made from a respectable source." Ay but the payment of a hundred livres can remove the obligation." "So it can. But no power can annul the marriage tie." "Then mark me, Simon Lobois! I will bid my father that he let me live in pen ury and want, for, as your wife, my sor row will have reached its climax; so you shafl not thus gain the gold you covet." "And mark me. Louise St. Julien! While your father withholds the half of his fortune from you, I will reduce yon to such suffering as shall force me to bind von to prevent you from taking your own life to end your tortures!" A few moments of silence ensued, and then Simon said, in a softer tone: But let us drop this profitless talk. You will consider of this, aud I know you will calmly settle down into a state of reasonable acquiescence. Now give me direct answer. Will you become toy wife without any further act of compul sion?" "I should judge you had heard enough to know my mind. "But I would know if I must compel you. Mina, nowi fliy resolution is nxea. 1 have counted the cost, and am resolved upon the throw. When we return, you may tell your father, if you please, that I compelled you to become my wife, but I shall not care. He cannot take you from me after the church has bouud you to me, and If he geeks otherwise to harm me, he will only heap suffering upon the head of his own child. Your father gave nie permission to seek your hand. "I do not believe it, Simon." "I care not for your belief. That he told me so is true, and now I have sought you. Will you be my wife?" "Neverl" . "We shall see." And with this, the wretch strode from the apartment. CHAPTEH XIV. It was nearly dark when Simon Lobois left his captive, and the poor girl waited in vain for the coming of her gupper, Some time during the night she was startled from an uneasy, dreamy slumber by hearing a heavy tread in her room, Then she looked around and found two stout, dark-faced men by her side. "Come," uttered one of them; "we are in a hurry." ' ' In a gasping voice, Louise asked what was wanted. t "Never mind only get ready to follow us as soon as possible. We'I find bet ter quarters than this for ye." "But " v "O come!" Louise asked no more questions, but quickly putting on her scarf and draw- ing It over her head, she announced her readiness to accompany them. One of them took her by the arm, while the oth er, who held the lantern, went on in ad vance. They descenJed the stairs to the street, and having passed the distance of two squares, they stopped in front of a gloomy looking building, with one small door on the street, but no window. This door was opened, and the girl led In. Straight on she went through long, narrow passage, a distance of over a hun dred feet, and then she was stopped be fore door not more than two feet wide, formed of three pieces of solid hewn tira her bolted together with Iron, This was opened, and Louise was pushed In, and the door closed upon her. She listened until she could hear the soutfd of her con ductors' footsteps no more, and then she searched" around for gome place in whih to lie down, or, at least, upon which he could sit down. At length she found a low pallet with gome bedding upon it, and on this she rested. She slept some, for she wss as'.onished when she opened her eyes and found stream of sunlight struggling into the place. She looked np and found that there was small aperture near the top of the wall, about foot square, but she could not look out from it. The room was small, with walls of hewn tim ber, and evidently built for prison. Louise knew how easily money could hire official assistance in the colony, and hence she wondered not that Lobois had been able to obtain the use ot this place. The forenoon passed slowly away, and noon came. Hunger and thirst began to afflict the helpless prisoner, and the hands were oftener clasped in silent supplica tion. At length, towards the middle ot the afternoon, the door of the ced was opened and Simon Lobois entered. "Simon;"' ottered- the prisoner,, '.'what means this?" "Can you not guess?" was his calm reply. - ' "Do you mean this as t means ot forc ing me to marriage?" ; ; . "You've hit it." ' Louise sank down opon the pallet and clasped her hands. "I cannot stand this," ahe said. "Then become my wife."- ' "Is that the only alternative f "It is." "And in no other way can I get cleat of this place?" "In no other." "Bring me water." "Will you be mine?" . "I will allow the marriage to be sol emnized.' ' . "And you will go before the priest and be legally married to me?" "I will!" ' 1 ' ,' Simon Lobois' started with demoniac, selfish joy. , ' - . . "You shall have food and water now!" he cried. "And you shall have a faith ful, loving husband. O, Louise, you "Rut I am famishing now, Simon. , Away flew the man, and in a short time ia returned with some cold milk and "Vmi take it more calmly that! I had o-rnncted. Louise." Simon said, as he ei7.oA Innuiriuelv into her calm, pale face. "If I am calm, monsieur, It is not be cause I am happy. I find myself in yoiir power, and I have assured myself mat I am powerless to escape you. I have reflected and pondered deeply upon this, and now that my mind is made tip, I am not tue wonmu, ui i"" " myself uselessly miserable. But, mon sieur, you do not see my heart; you do. not see the utter wreck you have made there. A deep, dark sorrow, sucn as ine soul utterly crushed, and the heart all broken, can only know, is mine. If you can be happy in knowing the work you have thus wronght, I shall not envy you. I can look wth hope to tne lire- or tne emancipated spirit; you - know best whether you can do the game." - ' There was a deep, touching : pa tnos in this speech that moved the nara-nennea man more than he dared acknowledge, even to himself, and he tried to banish the emotion. Pooh! he uttered. "There is no neea of your speaking bo, fer you shall be as happy as a princess. I will always love you always be faithful." A look of Utter contempt stoie over me fair girl's face as she 'gaied Into the evil features of the bad man, for she knew how hollow ail hir pretensions were; and she knew now, too, what wicked means he had used to bring her within his pow er. ' s "" " (To be continued.) BUTTON OR BUTTON HOLE? A Question' Similar to that of Prece dence or Hen or r.gg. Once upon a time a case was brought before a learned Judge, In which the question at Issue was as to whether tue button wag made for the buttonhole or the buttonhole for the button. Counsel for the button held that It was so plain as to render argument su perfluous that the buttonhole was made for the use and behoof of the button; still, for form's sake, be, would give a few reasons why his contention was the correct one. It was apparent, tie said, that without the buttonhole the button would be unable to perform its function, and bence It was plain that the button preceded the ; buttonhole, and that the latter was Invented In order that the button might be of ser vice to mankind. It should be clear to everybody that had It not been for the button the buttonhole never would have been thought of. Its existence necessarily presupposed the existence of the button. The lawyer for the other side was equally positive In the stand he had been employed take, ne averred that the buttonhole preceded the Tmtton; that, In fact, the button was merely an afterthought. He said that, as every one knew, the buttonhole can be employed without the button, as wit ness Farmer Jones, who invariably uses a nail or sliver of wood Instead ot the conventional button, whereas It was impossible to make an effective use of the button without the aid and assistance of Ithe buttonhole. Hence It was shown beyond peradventure that the buttonhole was of greater-rra portance than the button, aud It was natural to infer that the buttonhole was first Invented aud that the button came later, simply as an ornament, or, at best, as an improvement upon the nail, sliver, or other instrumentality wherewith the buttonhole walmade to perform Its duty. To show the. rela- tlve value of the buttonhole and tbe button, he said," take this simple ex- ample: When a button comes off the buttonhole can still be made service- able, but If the buttonhole Is slit open the button Is of no use whatever. W Ith lUlS I Lie IVii i llv. U iuuurli avrovu uio v uoU although he. claimed that be had' not' exhausted the subject. t When the court came In after recess, the learned judge promptly decided tha case In favor of the buttonhole clear- lv a Just decision, although It was - ... whispered about the courtnouse that thB decision mleht have beeu'dlfferent but for the fact that while changing his linen between adjournment and-ce- assembling of the Court his honor had dropped his collar button and hunted for It without success for half an hour, and perhaps might never have found , It had he not steppe! upon It But, of j course, this suggestion came from the partisans of the button, and may fairly be Imputed to their disappointment and chagrin. Boston Transcript. London Is Improving. Yoar by year London .becomes not only more and more, a city of flowers, I but also a city of doves. Around every j building where It Is possible to keep pigeons one sees constantly increasing ' flocks of these pretty creatures, and . there could not be a more ornamental and delightful addition to town popula-' tion. In the sunlit spaces where they ; alight and feed the .soft rush of their ' wings and the peaceful sound of their cooing mnke the most restful contrast to the harsh noises of the streets. Vakins th. Point Plain. "Why do you call your sister 'Mis ery. Johnny?" asked Mr. Tarrier, the little boy's big sister's beau. " 'Cause." said Johnny, "she's your comp'ny." .1 M.V9 er um t uuui w uai uiai has to do with It, you know." "Don't y'?" and the small boy grinned all over. "What! 'Ain't y never heard 't 'Misery loves comp'ny,' eh ?" Phil adelphia BuU'ttn. YtJY.r' " l- -,"'" flilfl harvesting of Ice for a city Mr such as Montreal" Is no mean proposition, even In the abstract, J but for a moment we will enter Into figures and sea Just what It means. There have been harvested In the city during the present winter, soma thing like 100,000 tons of Ice. Multiply this by 2,000 and we arrive at a total of 820,000,000 pounds Divide this into the population of the city and outlying districts, allow, for the neces sary waste, and It is found that every man, woman and child consumes In the neighborhood of 600 pounds during the year. However, a great deal of this consumption is Indirect, as It were, for In these figures come the restaurants, butchers and other large consumers of lee. The calculation is a fair one, how- even for sooner or later the members of the community benefit thereby. The Ice upon which Montreal de pends is drawn from several sources; for instance, the Back River furnishes some, the St.' Lawrence below St. The saw' and bar in plat. Mary's currant turnlshes more, while the river opposite Nun's Island con tributes by far the larger share. The Ice In this latter locality Is beautifully clear and Is now being harvested as fast as men can cut and teams can draw. The process proper of procuring Ice begins with the removal of the snow, this being accomplished with horses hitched to scrapers. Next comes a ma chine termed a marker, which is a series of teeth set at given Intervals, The teeth axe so adjusted that they cut at Intervals of forty Inches and again at twenty Indies tlie width and length of an ordinary cake. A cutter, consist ing of a series of big teeth, set one In ' ICR HABVE8TEBS AT WORK. front of the other, is then run over these marks by means of horses, mak lng the cuts some five Inches deep. Next, the saw comes Into play. "In the old days each cake was sawn, but experience has proven that Ice, If prop erly handled, can be broken very read ily with a sharp Iron bar. thus saving a great portion of the necessarily slower method of sawing. The City Ice Company's men In place of sawing the Ice Into comparatively small cakes content themselves with going through It with the toothed In strument at Intervals of sixty-four SHEARING OUT THE STBIPS OF ICE. feet cutting through only the short way. This raft sixteen cakes long and four wldo. Is then broken off the main body by means of bars and with sharp Ice books, set In long handles, the men conduct It down toward the bb.iu, vug cuu, vi uivu ic iu tuu " " v. and the other ending In a long plat- form, set at a convenient height to load the sleighs without any lifting to spealt of. -.At the foot of the skid the men tackle the Ice raft with bars again, breaking off the cakea which go flying .. . . H . - i . . up me saia propeueu vj n wauj ui horses, hitched to a long rope. The rest is all easy, for the sleighs stand ' - H0I8TI5O ICE BT STIAH MWIE. there waiting for their loads to take , over 10 tue uuubc- The work of the Ice harvester la not unlike that of the lumberman, and ona shares the dangers as weU aa the fas cinations of the other. That It has Its fascinations la ahown by tha fact that 7mwm m r i w m . . f - . - ii sga. ai ti : i one hoary old gray-beard told that he had been cutting lea every winter for twenty - five years, and as ha worked the saw up and down through tha blocka of blue crystal ha really ap-1 peared to enjoy it, ana tnai too in spue or me iaci u uw wmu w blowing keen and atrong over tha St : thing but secure. A cubic foot of Ice weighs flfty-ser-en and one-half pounds. Cut that Into quarters and the result Is four very small pieces, hardly sufficient to fill an ordinary Derby hat four times over, and still each will weigh upward of fourteen pounds. Montreal Star. JEFFERSON DAVIS' OLD HOME. Beanvolr Mansion to Become Retreat for Confederate Soldiers. In all the fair southland there la not a place dearer to tne nearts or tna Southern people than Beauvolr, tha late home of Jefferson Davis, -President of the Confederate States. This home was recently purchased by the sons of Confederate veterans and will soon be come a home for Impoverished Confed erate veteran soldiers. , " Beauvolr Is the most beautiful and Imposing place on tha Gulf coast It was settled and Improved by James Brown, a wealthy planter, who was lav ish In the expenditure of his abundant J means In building and beautifying his home. Oaks, cedars and magnolias via with each other In adding charm, ana the long, gray moss fills In any little details that are lacking. The mansion, as It was termed, Is as good as It was the day It was built, over 00 years ago. A gallery 80 feet long and 14tf feet : wmo uuiueiB me UUIlUlUg IU IIUUI uu 1,1 l. A . V. 1 II .1 1 1.. mnA on the sides, and ends In wings that ' v ',' will f I 1 ' " t V t'" ' -3 V I i it ! I. J mt-it i f 6 , i I HOME or JEFFERSON DAVIS. are entered through tall Venetian doors. The hall Is 16 feet wide and opens at tha rear on a wide gallery, on which the wings also open. The room to the right as the hall Is entered from the front was Miss Winnie's room. What a Mecca this room will be for the veter ans, and how they will cherish every thing that belonged to the "Daughter of the Confederacy." Equally distant from the mansion, east and west, are quaint little cot tages. Originally there was only ona room In each, surrounded on tha four Idea by wide galleries. Later one and two sides have been Inclosed, giving two additional rooms. It Is about the east cottage that the principal Interest centers, for It was In this that Mr. Da vis studied and wrot, and where Mlsa Winnie did much of her early literary work. The main room of this cottage was Mr. Davis' private library. The walls are lined with book shelves, and a little gallery runs along the upper Bhelves. This was reached by a small ladder. Near the fireplace Is where Mr. Davis' desk stood, and tha door beside It Is spattered with Ink thrown from bis pen when he was writing his book. "The Rise and Fall of the Confederate Government." The east room has been enclosed, and In this room the chieftain was wont to recline and rest on a sofa. Back of this was a tiny room where Miss Winnie wrote. It Is a real girl's den, and Is yet quite characteristic of the former fair occupant. The west cottage was occupied by Mrs. Hayes, the older daughter, and her children when visiting her parents. The Beauvolr home was bequeathed by will to Jefferson Davis by Mrs. Sarah Anna Dorsey, of Louisiana. Origin of the Military Salnte. Of military salutes, raising the right hand to the head It generally believed to have originated from the days of the tournament, when the knights filed t tne tnrone 0 tne queen of beauty aud, by ' way of compliment, raised their hands to their brows to Imply that her beauty was too dazzling for unshaded eyes to gaxe on. The offi cer's salute with the sword has a dou ble meaning. Tha first position with the hilt opposite the lips. Is a repeti tion of the crusader's action In kissing the cross hilt of bis sword In token of faith and fealty, while lowering the point afterward Impllea either submis sion or friendship, meaning In either case that It la no longer necessary to stand on guard. Things that Make England. The recent elevation of a certain En glish nobleman to tha peerage was made the occasion of a presentation of silver plate from his tenantry, with an address of congratulation. The oldest tenant on the estates got np and said that he bad himself attended seventy rent audits, and that his house had been lived In by people bearing his name for 200 years. It U little things like this that make England so sturdy, substan- tlal and permanent, In comparison with the nervous, volatile, nnstabla Ufa of this country. A Cerebral Sandow. Kharpe A Baltimore man Is busy or ganizing all the joke writers Into a union; I wonder what kind of an em blem they will use, Whealton Why, a chestnut, of course. (And Immediately tha Ice-pack was replaced about his fevered brow.) Philadelphia Record. Death Kale of St. Peterahnrg. Et Petersburg has the highest death rate of any European capital. When a toper stops drinking It may be either to his credit or to his lack of credit. APRIL .8 A LUCKY MONTH. ., f Important Events In American History Occurred Darin Its Thirty Pays. "Did you know that the month of April has played a more conspicuous part In American history than any other month of the year?" asked a man who Is fond of things historical. "From the "way I look at' the events Involved. April is the most Important of all the months and I hava often wondered why the American people show so much Indifference to the fact Why. when you come to think of It, the Fourth of July, while, of course, mportant enough, la yet not quite so momentous In the annals of American nIgtory as iome other days one might menti0n. April baa been the one month of the yeftr whicn has really KtneA tne great problems with which the American people have had to deal, Bnpp0M we giance at the record for a moment The war of the revolution began April 19. 1775, and ended April 11, 1783. Coming on down we find the Sabine disturbance, Involving the southwestern frontier, Louisiana, Ar kansas, and Texas, and which began In April, 1836, running through to June of the next year. The Mexican war began April 24, 1846. The Yuma expedition Into California ended In April, 1852, having begun In Decem ber the year previous. The Gila ex pedition Into New Mexico was launch ed April 16, 1857. The Colorado River expedition In California ended April 28, 1859. The Pecos expedition into I Texas was launched April 16, 1859. There was the war of the Rebellion, which started April 19, 1801. Hostili ties actually began when Fort Sump ter was fired upon April 12, 1861. The Uta expedition In Colorado be gan April 3, 1878. It Is a rather curi ous coincidence that the late war with Spam began April 21. In the same montn ttn(j but two days later, with gpect to the day of the month, than the War of the Rebellion, which be-. ,. inrll 19. The Spanish-American war began April 21, 1808, and ended April 11, 1899. These are ome of the more Important things which hava taken nlace in the month of Aurll. an(1 many of the event8 have been of deep Import from the viewpoint of Americans. What reason can you as sign for the conspicuous part April has played In the history of America? Do men feel more like fighting In April than in the other months of the year? Is the spirit of war and revolution In fluenced by the rising of the sap? I , do not know, but there must be some ' good reason for the happening of these great things, wars, explorations, ad ventures and events of this sort in the month of April. At any rate they have happened In April, and It would be unreasonable and altogether absurd to assume that these things are due to haphazard, that they are mere coinci dences. - April cannot be explained out of Its rightful Inheritance among the more Important months In' American history. AGED ARE NOT DOOMED. Diaeaeea May Ke Cured br Coaxing: and Oentle Cafe. In the past, and even yet all too fre quently, the old man or the old woman who had the misfortune to fall serious ly 111 was believed to be doomed. The disease was allowed to run its course with little or no opposition from the doctor, for so little hope was there that It was commonly regarded as a useless cruelty to annoy the dying sufferer by pressing him to take the necessary medicine and food. '.. Now we know that this Is wrong. Old persons, very old ones, can and do recover from the gravest diseases, and they have as much right to claim the thoughtful care and Intelligent treat ment of the doctor and the nurse as have their children and grandchildren. But, of course, their treatment must be of a different kind, both because the frail system will not endure the sometimes severe measures that are life saving for the more robust, and because disease In the' old assumes a different character from that which it assumes In the young. The arteries In the aged are lesa elastic, all the tissues are stlffer and less plastic, and the reaction of the sys tem is slower and less pronounced. Fever, which accompanies every little Indisposition In the child, Is Incon spicuous In the maladies of old age, and a disease like pneumonia may run Its course, even to a fatal termination, without any appreciable elevation of tha body temperature, and, Indeed, without any sign of Its presence be yond more rapid breathing and pro gressiva weakness. Excretion Is less free In the old, and the depressing signs of systematic poi soning by waste products are much more evident This poisoning is mani fested, not in the wild delirium and high fever of the young, but in stu por, low-muttering delirium and vital depression. The aim, therefore, must be to rouse the flagging heart, .and to assist elimination ot the toxic matters from the system, at the same time us ing only the gentlest measures. The brittle organs of the aged will not stand blows that are often needed to get any response at all from those of the young. They would break un der such rough usage. They must be coaxed and gently pushed, but never driven. And herein lies the difficult task of the physician. He must keep a steady hand on the helm and a watchful eye on the breake.rs. and must know well just how much strain tha weakened timber of the bark will stand If he would guide It between the Scylla of Inaction and the Charybdls of excessive aeaL Youth'a Compan ion. Klaaed Her Thwinb. Because she kissed ber thumb In stead of the testament when being sworn at a Sunderland, England, po lice court, a witness has been severely admonished. ' A Helpful Bust ation. "I sea that the New York Herald wants to know If capital punishim-nt la a failure." "Why doesn't the Herald ask some body who haa tried It V Cleveland Plalndealer. When a mother complains that wh.n her daughter gets a bo- k lu her bands she Is lost to the world. It Is a com plaint that la half a boast GEO. P. CROWELL, Surrettor to K. L. Smith, Oldest Established House in the t allsy.J DEALER IN Dry Goods, Groceries, Boots and Shoes, Hardware, Flour and Feed, etc. This old-established house will con tinue to pay cash for all its goods; it pays no rent; it employs a clerk, but does not have to divide with a partner. All dividends are made with customers in tha way of reasonable pricea, Lumber Wood, Posts, Etc. Davenport Bros. Lumber Co. Have opened an office in Hood River. Call and get prices and leave orders, which will be promptly filled. THE GLACIER Published Every Friday $1.50 A YEAR. Advertising, 50 cents per inch, single column, per month; one-half inch or less, 25 cents. Reading notices, 6 cents a line each insertion. THE GLACIER prints all the local news fit to print. When you see it in THE GLACIER you may know that others see it. Oregon Showtime and union Pacific i .jf-yo i ! a o ,. TIWE SCHEDULES remind. Of. Chicago Butt Iake, Denver, 4:80 p.m. Portland Ft. Worth.Omaha, Special Kaniu City, St. f.'ioi. m. Louli,CbicagoaDd via tL Huntington. At'antle Bt. Paul Fast Mall. 10:Ma.n. Express 1:15 p.m. via Huntington. St. Panl atlantlo Expreu. 1:Ma,m. Fust Mall (:0U p. m. via Spokane , . 70 HOURS PORTLAND TO CHICAGO No Change of Cars. Loweat Bates. Qulckeit Time. OCEAN AND RIVER SCHEDULE rtOM PORTLAND. ' 1:00 p.m. All ulllnf datu C:U0 p. m, ubjeet to eliana For San Franclnco fcalleverr daya Dally Celunkla River 1 00 p. m. Ex. Sunday itmmre. Ix. Suudiy OH p.m. fiturday To aitnrla and Way U:WI p. n. Landing. .45a.m. Willamette II n. I SO p. m. Hon., Wed. Tuea.Tbu., and Fri. Balem, Indrnen- bat. deuce, I'orvallli and way laudiuga. f :00 a.m. Taaklll liter. 4:p.ra. Ton., Tbur. Mob., Wed, and Sat, Oregon City. Dayton aa! Fn. and way lending. Lv. Rl.ria Snake Iher. I.v.Lewtttoa m. t:0la.m. taiy eiwpl Rlparia to Lewlatoa DUj except A. L, CRAIO, enteral Peaeengcr Agent, Fortltad, Or A. X. BOAR, tnU M4 Klver.