GAPE MAY HERALD.

AN INOKPKNOKNT WKKKLY.

Publisned Every Saturday Morning at S06 Washington Street, „ Cape May, N. J.

M. JL SCULL, • FiMWw Hi PnfMir.

SUBSCRIPTION: One Dollar Per Year In Advance.

Entered at the poet office at Cape May. 2V. J., as Mcona-olaas matter, March llth, 1901.

Th^ discoveries of systems of wire•ess tvlearaphy are becoming too nu■eroas to mention.

One of the chief uses of those South American republics Is to make new alstories. geographies and maps necrsaary every year or two.

The announcement is made that Indiana will put about 24,000,000 cans of 'French peas" on the market this year. Now let Europe have another shiver. At a recent meeting of German spinners at Lelpslc a table was submitted. which showed that the world's consumption of cotton was now about 14.008.000 bales annually. The United States stands at the head of the list, being credited with a consumption of 1.600.000 bales. Great Britain comes second, with 3.300.000 bales. The value of street railway franchises In a big and growing city Is Mempllfled In the offer which the Chicago City railway has made to the municipality In consideration of a 20 years' extension of Its franchises. It. offers to pave the streets it occupies from curb to curb at a cost of 110,MO in return for the privilege it asks.

The last clausegof a will which was lied for probate in Washington. D. C., the other day significantly says: "The net sum of 1186.000 left by this will is the financial result of a long life o* Industry and economy, and If used for good and useful purposes by those to whom it Is now given is eaough. And if not

much."

\

The statistics collected dmlng 1899 showing the damage done by lightning have been published weather bureau. The number of buildings damaged or destroyed by Ughtnlag fn 1899 was 5527. In addition to thise 729 buildings caught fire as a result of the proximity .to other structural that were fired by lightning. The approximate loss In 2824 cases was not reported, owing undoubtedly to the fact that the loss was si conservative estimate of the total loss by lightning during the year would be 8600.000. The great majority of buildings struck by lightning were not provided with lightning rods. The conditions prevailed In the preceding

year.

Jules Verne, now long past his tieth year, has begun his ninety-ninth story. -Since he commenced writing some of his most marvelous tales hart been proved to be only prophecies. For instance, we have submarine boats almost as wonderful as Captain Nemo's craft, and the Wurney around the world has been accomplished in much less time than that required by th< mytkical Fogg. If M. Verne wishes tc write s novel of adventure so improbable that science will not* catch with It for a long time to come, he will have to tax hU powers of ingenuity tc the utmost: provided that at the same time, as in his earlier stories, he rounds It with the specious atmosphere that Imparts one. of the chief ebarme to Ms narratives. According to a writer in Every tody's Magazine the family' of the average American Uvea on a scale and a daily diet which would be* regarded In Europe as lavish, such a one as be afforded there only by the rich His table Is spread with abundance not only with articles of domestic production, but of Imported food stuffs. For example, his family con sumes annually 1250 pounds of wheat flour, and 600 -pounds of oet and com meal, 760 pounds of meat, or ftboul two pounds per day; 750 pounfis of potatoes. 100 pounds of butter, and 300 pounds of sugar. He Is the groafi eat coffee drinker oh egrtb. one pound a week being required for his (family's consumption. Of tea. however, he uses little, five pounds per year safficing for his needs. His table cost# him 816 per month. He eats three meals per day. taking his dinner al noon. He retires between nine and ten at night,.and rise* at six In the

CHAPTER VL ff* *** Csperance opened her Ooor and passed -- - Iftly down to the squire's roow. I heard her shriek, too. I was In s state of excitement Impossible to describe, still

' the ides that I was a he-

ned to m

of the

n age nntil my

le out of the chatnber of death, i white as a ahaet—utteriy un1 apaang forward and thrust

r you—go back tt

myself in hli way. "Uncle Re,” I gasped. “I did lt-I did It! Yoa are free now—you aud Mis* Lyndon." For nn instant be panned, as if in sheet amsxsmrnt. Then he shook me off im patiently.

“Hush,

has been t

bed!" "Bntl

tart and laughter; “I wi— tl=CT _ J .- aay, ‘Wall done, my little hwolner I wat Charlotte Corday. I kl"-* ,l — ♦—»* " He grasped m look In his eyes u

ribly.

"Yon—killed—Victor." he gasped, faint ^'T did. Oh. unde, was It not right?" I cried, seizing his arm frantically. "Und* Re. do not look like that—do not—yoi frl.fct.ai m«_” a violence he shook me oO naif I were a thing too awful to touch. "Olga. Olga, you miserable, misguided child, what have you doAe? Oh. heavensi I suppose every one will be saying next that I instigated you to this," he cried repuMng me afresh in an access of

1 killed the tyrant" e by the shouldtra. * rhicl, frightened me ter

Mi terror. “Who

have foreseen anything no awful? Nedon't come near me—don’t touch me! G« Into yonr room and stay there! l^o you know you have committed murder? And

mM have thought

awful? No-

turned the key upon me.

No pen could possibly depict the untold mental agony I endured at that minute He. for whom I had suffered and sinned deeply, cast me aside. I had expect vaguely, curses, opprobrium, infamyi 1 through it nD* I hud imagined hit idee lore and gratitude supporting mu

> my bedroom, a

I was htlf stupefied when at

door of my room opened and Esperancv entered, her eyes heavy and awollen witk weeping. She looked at me in' a strange bealtating way, as thongh I were som<

inded. poisonooa reptile whom sh<

wounded, poisonous reptile wi pitied, but dared not approach. "Espcranec," 1 sobbed, bol

rmi to her.

"Miss Olga, dear, do tell me once mor» -were you in yonr senies when you apoke to Monsieur Remy just now? Did yon know what yen were saying?" “Yea, Esperance, it was true! Oh, wil' >od ever tench me, or come neai i, until I am hanged for a mur I didn't know then—I didn'I know. Oh, I wish 1 waa dead! I wish \ waa dead! I shall kiU myself, too. Es

Vranee!"

■e she began to weep bitterly. I not weep. I would not come near ker again, lest she shonld again pash me tway. I could only cover my burning lyes with my hand and repeat that J

Jrlshed I were dead.

“Hush.” said Esperance, drying her eye*. “Oh, Lord bless him! He never bore malice to a creature In hia life! He'll be terribly missed—terribly missed. Bu: I am forgetting," she went on. “You are to remain in this room, Miss Olga.” she said, “ontU it is decided what is to be done with you.” f I made no demur. I was pan caring what happened to me. .She brought me books und work. 1 eonM do nothing all that day hut lie on my face, gasping and

wosnlng.

1 dared not question Esperance next day as to when they would bury him. I dared not let his name pass.my lips, i employed the sad, empty hours of .that second day in writing a piteous letter in to Uncle Remy, which Esperance ook -to deliver. But be did not He had no pity in his bewrt, only

He h

for a . |

It auch waa bis verdict, wl I to hope for from others?

being so degraded

"ict. what i

otl

answered quietly take cure of that.

; and, 7 had

from others? I asked once, mother knew, and Eaperance

that i

they hare corns must go home at

Monsieur Remy vows that bad he known how dangerous you were he would never have spoken to you or noticed you at aOj so you would not be happy bare. ,Weill I suppose It is for the best; but. oh, my dear little love, I would give ten years of my life that thia had never bap**“I don't know—I seem not to mini anything, now ba la better. I am not a •nurderass," I repeated, eoftly, to myeelf.

"And^o I^am to go awa; *hhe assented, and then added: am forgetting, there U one epeg you era to promise—a rather

promise; out, 1 tmuK. a very wise Your mother knows nothing of this.

up the sleep stile and sit me down there* on. I am thinking of nothing in pirtirulir as 1 take off my bat and shake rk my hair—only of the Joy and aweel- >» of living on such a day as this; but

Ihlng brings suddenly back to my with ^vividness the event* of seven It is never out of my thought*

>tber, hut It •«"

year* ago. for many

... days togel

returns with such force as it doe* to-day. It is the dark background to my otherwise happy, uneventful life—this secret hlch llee between mother and mr. and of rhlcb sweet mother does not even sus-

pect the existence.

My school Ilf# was a happy one. When I had been there a few weeks I began to understand what my grandmother meant about my morbid tendencies—I was certainly different from other girls. At first my efforts at self-conquest were all made with one object-thal x»f showing myself improved to Mr. Burnside wbej.i 1 next saw him. 1 could npt realise thcl my sentence of exile was final—that I was never to see eny. of my relations again; but at time rolled on I began to know that this was the case. Twice a year my grandmother wrote to mother, Inclosing a check for roy school exi-ense*; frequently tbit letter came from abroad. Mr. Burnside's health, she wrote, had been greatly Impaired: and lu consequence they wintered in France or the Riviera. Ah! I koew what had canted

that iU-bealtb.

One day about three year* after my unlncky visit to the South, 1 saw tbe following announcement in the paper: "On the 15th instant, at St. Michael'* Burnside, by the Bererend Jobt. Smith, M. A., vicar. Sir George Lascellee Hervey. Bart., of Coombe Hervey. to Alicia, only daughter of J. Lyndon, Baq., of the

“Oh. I

gteUhlng you

naru

la never to koow IL Do you

think you can live without telling her?"

I felt that 1 could but .promise.

’x.issET“rJi'S

pity s

li mltitbat I

ure on On the morning of my departure l was Glowed to go out round the garden. 1 roamed around, bidding a tearful farewafi to all my favorite spots; and returned -With my hands laden with flowers. Eaperance entered the room at that mlnuta. A stranae expression on her face. Its Olga.” aha said, taking my fare ten her hands, “Mr. Burnside wants to say good-by to yon-" The scarlet sprang to my cbeaka, the tsars to any eyes. "Eaperance, I will go," I whispered. She took my hand, and we went nob Jresly down the corridor. How stHl t house was! We stood before that do tt length. Esperance eoftly pushed It open. I was alone, to face the man whose life I had attempted. The white bed-curtains hid the head of tb# bed. I only saw one hand laid over the counterpane. 1 remained rooted to the spot In

trembling.

i little Olga?" said a wonder-

;uuy gentle voice.

“Yes," I answered. In low, smothered

and trembling,

“la that little Of

fully gentle voice.

vanced. with bead held down, still holding my flower* In my hand. He put back the curtain as I approached, and gradually I lifted roy tearful eyre to his face. I waa so startled that I gave a little cry. The squire I had known waa no longer

reep, away still giving tongue. Here wo stragglers; they also lea, __

lire I had known wa. no longer one torna back; and here, riding

acre. The formidable beard bad van- j 11 * .^T 81 ~ lrTy, 1 ihed. I rew ah almost boyish who ** 1

ilsriy fair and colorless: deep, cavis blue eyes, god golden hair cropped

mw an fair and

Inc ej

_» the _

He smiled. “Am I changed?" he asked,

softly. “Ah. little Olga. I had gotten your aversion to my al 1 made Evans take it all ol ing, that it might not scan

me, or i looking

might not Might deer

hlokit lid?"

shaggy beard, iff this morn-

scare you. But

ill. my chil

I burst into tears—the first I bad shed since that awful night. Hitherto the fountains of my tears had seemed to be scaled, now they Honed freely. " It wa* so like, yet so unlike, what I bad pictured. Yet the vision of the silent, stern face.

more me as did face, which still

ith, had not been abli id this pale, pathetic, living ill seemed hovering so perilously near the edge of the grave. “I want—I wish " I gasped. Inarticulately. “Oh, Mr. Burnside, do My you forgive me!" “I do—billy and freely. Now I want yVn to control yonr sobs and try to tell mri fully and freely, exactly how It came into your little bead to do this dreadful thing. How had I Injured yon. little

Olga?"

I began. He lay and listened to me— never once moving his quick, elcakglance from my face. I must bare in fused into my talc some of the fire sod pathos with which It was invested in my own mind.

td to aoderstaad Just exactly It seemed to me something

bow 1 like m

seemed to me

making a solemn cdnft

laid bare befoi

“Oh, let her come—ask mother to ome," I sobbed; “she would go with me to prison, I know—*he would not torn

from me and hate me.”

“It will all be arranged for the best. Miss Olga,” Mid Esperance, sadly. All the next day my meals were brought to me by a aerrant I did not knojp; and

Mid. “Yon need cot

Your little mind has grown narrow

inite unlike a child.

morbid; yon areqt

must go and mix with other own age. I exact fro

y following. . .

rning of the sixth day. the door

' \ and ~

tile borering on her Bps. ‘Come here. MUs Olga, dear." the maid. In gentle tone*. “I am to tell yon some news wblch should make you very, very

thankful."

lx was Sunday morning. As she spoke' the bells from the Tittle church in the valley began to chime. Their sound was wafted in through the open window like a Jubilant strain of npplause after long,

long pain.

“Espermcr, tell i “They are quite •quire will Hre." “Will live! He U not deedl" I whispered between white lip*. "No: he was terribly weak. For three lays and nights his life hong in the balance; but he is given back to os." The room seemed to swim. The dashing bells rushed In on the August breeze. I tried to speak, to laugh, to more, then came blackness, dense ami sodden, and I lay In an Inanimate weight on Eaperance's arm. When I recovered conaciousncM I lay on my own little bed. The room w^s cool and sweet with aromatic vinegar. A bandage of iced watet waa on my forehead, and Esperance stood-over me. “My poor, dear little child." she spoke, nursing me tenderly; “they—Madame aud ’ n-—iy—do not know yon as I

- I laid bare before my former , cuemj all the recesses of roy childish soul,

“r! i I myself scarcely ktfew bow I dared to

| be so confidential; but those wonderful

ed to draw it all oat of me.

way. because

for you

lip, Olga, irrow and bUd. Yon

children of m you one

ishment; r.tiS It you give m certain It will'be to promise solemnly

to mention to one tingle soul any particular relating to tbit sad mistake of yours. Let it be dead and buried InJ tween you and me. Shall It be #c, eh?"

_ *1 ever

satisfied," be answered, break your word, tboui

can hare no idea bow mneb of

tur* life

age. I exact from

, h . , r a punishment: afid if

■ me in ! krpt ' 1 require yon » of * I oeTer ,0 mention to

tween yon and me. Shall It be sc,

“I promise yon faithfully," I sobbed. “No one shall ever hear a word from mr." “I am satisfied,'' be answered. “You — "1 not break yoor word, though you

hare no Idea bow much of your fu-

ture life depends on your keeping that promise. Now, good-by, 0!*a. my child;

may every blessing be yours."

“Ob. how good you are! I have neser been anything but rode and naughty to your I aeixed -his hand and laid my

cheek on It.

“Kiss me; then," be answered, smiling, “to show that we are quite friends now." 1 held op my mojtth to his. He took my face between bis two hand*, and gamed at me long and steadily. He was about to My something, Hut stopped suddenly, kissed me gravely on the forehead ami lips and released me. Without a word I slipped my flo*er» into -his hand and fled from the room, half-blinded by my

•-ears.

CHAPTER VH. . It la a warm October day. I have bam for a long walk, and am returning by way of Hanley covets. I am a good walker, and delight In rapid motion, so I think nothing of the eight mile* I hare

. adorn lion of Miss

Lyndon, my pity and sympathy for th« two lovers. And now it had ad and*d in this! Tb« cause for which I had struck that awful blow was frustrated by Mis* Lyndon's own deliberate act. I began tfl realize for the first time the practical signification of the old prorarh, “Never

do evil that good may come.”

Now the second volume of my Ufa is closed and done with. The next step is to find work. My grand oiother write* to say that aba would maka m<- aa allowance every year, to enable m* lo lira at home with mother: but both af u»mother and I—agrea that it le bvttrr I should work. So I bar* written mytalf to My that I intend to earn my own liv-

ing—to get a situation aa governeM.

I ait with my arm round the smooth berk of a birch tree, my foot swinging, my hat off, my lap full of poppia*. Suddenly a sound breaks on tba arillness— lh£. exciting sound of a pack af hounds in full "cry. Clote to me is a crooked little old-crabtree; its.branches fork delightfully. In sn instant I am up in the fork. Bitting supremely happy and secure. In -a fe w minute* the whole hoot sweeps try

through a gap.

Some ladies are in tba field; them I watch with a special pang of envy. Over they go, how light,-how graceful! On they sweep, away down the field, the hounds still giving tongue. Here come two atragglero; they also leap and

' tek; ' * '

“Prrmlt me also to offer yon my alotcrest congratulations on your affectionate and .chivalrous treatment of your granddaughter," 1 retorted, with a low

lourtesy.

Aa I turn to go I atop short. What have I done? For the second Hue In my life I have deliberately flung away a chance. But one Ihlng I determine. I will make a clean breast of It to mother. I will i a second hateful secret between me. Whatever it costa me, I

her, though 1 know the tears and lamenting.

not have i her and will tell

result will b*

folVov

, d gsntlem ikes the hedge at a dif-

ficult place. I feel sure the hone will never do it; I half rise in my seat as they take the leap. No! There is a splash, a flounder, and In another Instant the horse is flying down the field, and bis rider is struggling In the muddy water. I heartily pity him as I come scrambling down my crab-tree and advance toward He Is sitting on the gras* as 1 e np, a bale old roan, with gray hair

a handsome face.

“Hallo!

is his greet!

h“I «

Where do yon come from?"

ting.

from the wood. I mw yonr grief, and thought I’<k

one como to grief, and tl ■me and see if I coulj help y, “Oh. did yon?" he returns.

up and down. “Catch

then."

“Unluckily, not being a young lady in

novel, I can’t,” I reply. rord!” My a the old gentle-

reon.”

"Upon my word! i man. “you're a alee y< “I nm a very atuph

answer. “I came to tell you, that the ncarewt cottage it just behind thar dump of spruce fin. You can't see it because of the trees, but it’s quite doac; and I know they would let yon dry your things." “You're most kind.” he ontwen, still stsrin< at me with hU hard, gny eyes: "but that confounded mare has wrenched my ankle for me, so I can't get there." “I’m very sorry,” I answer. "Couldn't you'lean on me? I'm—I’m a good deal stronger than k look.” "Thanks; but you don't know what tt rould be to have sixteen stone hanging n yon. All the Mme, it waa a kind offer. Who are you?" *T am Olga Damien. I live with my mother in the High street of Shipley-le-Manh.” “Ho!" he answer*, scanning me narrowly. “Why. you must be old Care ire's granddaughter, then?" “No, I am : -Oh, Damiei “So she was: her. Do you think I would owo a man for a grandfather who disowned my mother?” “Hlghty-tlghty! You're an Independent young lady! Bo old Carewe has cast yoo off. eh?" “Me? He has nothing to do with me, I'm thankful to say.” I answer, negligently. “Shall I run to the cottage and aee If they could send a carriage lot you?"

4 lamenting.

(TO BE COXTIXCED.)

worth about the one hundred and twentieth part of an English penny. When Dr. C. H. Robinson waa traveltag through Africa a few yean ago, one of the local kings sent him. amoag other thtnga. a present of a hundred tbouMnd cowries. On receiving them, the doctor aaya. I was told what I subsequently ascertained to be correct, that It wai custimary to give the bearer of the present ten tbouMnd cowrie* for himself. They are. aa a role, delivered in bags containing twenty tbouMnd each. Noticing that the man who was responsible for their safe carriage had brought one bag that waa obrloualy under weight aome two thousand cowries having been extracted from IL I asked him if he waa certain that this particular bag contained the proper amount. On receiving his assurance that he was, I told him to sit down and count from this bag the ten thousand cowrlei which, according to native custom I awed him. He did as he wat bidden with great alacrity thinking, ne doubt, that the whits man waa aadly lacking in sagacity to allow a creditor to count his own money unchecked. I | noticed that he took full advanUge of his privilege and. so far as I could Judge, the sum which be counted exceeded by a', least two thousand cowries the sum to which be was entitled. HU task completed. 1 asked him again if he was sure that the bag. ah delivered by him. had originally contained twenty thousand cowrie*. On hU replying in the affirmative, I suggested •hat. this being so. the amount which remained over must therefore be ten thousand. On hU assuring me that my calculation was correct, I told him to leave with me the ten thousand which he had Just counted and to take the rest as his due.—Youth'* Companion. Automobile SarUgs Bask. , An automobile savings bank U tb* latest device of the Ingenious French. For some time the author! ties'of Mexlcres have felt that thrift among the peasanU of the Ardennes ahonld be encouraged, and they decided that If they would go half way In getting at the peasants the latter would save more money than they do now. Accordingly. a new style of electric motor-car has been built It contains our scats, one of which U for the driver. The three places behind are arranged around a revolving table In the middle of the car, one at each side and one at the rear. Writing desks are fitted over each of these seats and are devised In such a way that they can be either foldtJ flat against the sides of the carriage Inwardly, or opened outwardly for the use of the public. The central table also contains desks, besides book shelves and small metallic strong box. The car travels about the country, making stops of an hour or so on pra-arranged days in different localities in the department- The passengers are clerks of the local treasury department and a cashier. They carry with them a complete collection of savings bank books, registers and forms, and the cashier is authorised lo receive moneys. By this method the authorltlea hope to encourage the peasanU tn put their money la the bank* where It will earn interest, instead of being hidden away in stc-cklnga. aa U now the almost universal custom.

UTILITY OF THE SANDBINDERS. raM* wlih Wblrb II I* Hoped lo lin’d Iho Ur!fling Hand* oa Oar Caasl. I’rof. F. Samnon Scribner, agroiloiogist of the department of agriculture, lias returned to Washington from Buffalo. where he lias been in charge of the department's exhibit of grasmx, 90 varieties of which are under cultivation at the exposition. Since he Washington Prof. Scribner has traveled extensively along the Atlantic coast and throughout New England and New York slates, engaged in superintending the selection and the preparation of various specie* of grasses known as sandblnders. by the extensive cultivation of which the department hopes to hold the drifting b of the Atlantic coasL The principal experiments with different valetles of these grasses are now being conducted in the vicinity of Cape Coil, Prof. Scribner said today that it had been demonstrated that the Mnd dunes of that locality were Ming held by the intelligent use of the aandblnders. On the Pacific coast the cultivation of these grasses had resulted in fixing the sandhills In the vicinity of San Francisco and Lo* Angeles and hap made possible the creation of the

Golden Gate park.

tese experiment* with the aandblners. Prof. Scribner said, were being conducted in all sections of the country in co-operation with the experi-

>

to my cheeks l' the silent, amu* gentleman has cc

ply, “bakl don't mneh. It Is mother hi has sinned against not me.” Here I come suddenly to an utter pa'n»e. I stand

and feel the blood mount

ailent, ' ta cot

ationl I am tbe < at ion not to have

s of tbe at n me like a

it long agol

“You are my grandfather.” 1 aay, with angry pride. “You hhve taken advantage of me; but I hart aaid nothing to be

ashamed of."

rk* were, however, r least of it; there

there is one

thing you hsve to learn, Min Olga

Damien, and. tMt^U jsoriflly wbriomr prorM M

t.TfiTKl Khq. tl

can dispense with your service*. Permll trial sad

.

While “L” trains were rumbling and roaring up Washihgtdn street the other afternoon to tbe accompaniment of rattling wagon wheels and clacking of iron-shod hoofs, a whose gait was somewhat unsteady lounged around the corner of Waltham street and braced himself against a building, says the Boston Record. He stndled his surroundings for time In a disconnected way until the noisy passage of a train roused him. He looked np and hailed a passerby. •Tve discovered it," he remarked with a show of interetl. "Before long I'll he famous," and he glanced upward to^rard the "L” structure. “Discovered what?" queried the other. “Why, electricity—I know what It is now." This brought another question, and the man who was to be famous replied: "Why. It's liquid noise. I Just discovered it." He refused to. aay to what use he would put hi* "discovery,” hut from his walk as he started In a tig-

tag course up the str believed that compai

the discoverer of liquid air was a back

number.

Maryland Takes It* Cmm*. / The state census of Maryland gives

the population of that state ns 1,178,700, a decreasc\of 11,850 from the figure* of 1.190,050 returned by th» Federal census. "Tt Increases the population of Baltimore and decrease* the population of tbe state outHlde that city. In some of the countie* of Maryland, errors in the taking of the Federal census of a year ago have been proved, and some at the enumerators

responsible for -them are j now,

trial

Except in Maryland, the tb* UMT ^—

arious st* i of the I

and the steps taken toward earning It out. commendaton letters have been received almost dally at the department from persons who either reside the sandy districts where the grasses are being utilized, or whose business interests bring them in touch with conditions along the coast Oae variety of the sandblnders which has shown up well in experiments is the Montana blue grass, which has been Transplanted with great success to the north Atlantic coast This grass, aside from its utility, lends most picturesque coloring to the sand dnnes, and when thickly grown along the coast, blends- - with the hue of the ocean and from a distance makes it a difficult matter to determine the line of sea and shore. While In New England Prof. Scriber had a consultation with the secretary of the Massachusetts state board of agriculture, looking to the redemption of the abandoned farms of New England from their present state of disuse, while the abandoned farms are generally considered, through a misconception Of the facts, to be sections of worked out land. Prof. Scribner said that as good land as any In the east Is embraced In some of these abandoned tracts. All they needed, he said, was Intelligent cultt.vatlon and tillage. The planting of forage crops, noted as soil Improvers, would aid materially in increasing the productiveness of the land and tbe

thought the farms had not been abandoned because the land waa too poor and barren to till, but because the younger generation had drifted to the cities, not caring to continue the struggle in the old-fashioned way. oppressed by mortgages and discouraged by the failure of crops and the refractory and unproductive soil, and not having sufficient knowledge of modern agricultural methods to open the fight on other lines.

“HU Me: I'm Rig Knongh.” n e wasn't.rery big. but he was a Bturdy^RtH^ chap with a face that bore the marks of much thinking and premature-responsibility. I learned afterward that he was supporting a crippled mother and an Invalid sister who had been left helpless in the world by the death of her father. He might have run away from'home and evaded the responsibility, but he didn’t thisk of IL He Just sold papers. At the loop on Fifteenth street a crowd was gathered, waiting for the evening cars. A ragged jjung girl was selling flowers at the Fifteenth street end of the waiting station when a man. rushing to catch hli car. knocked her against the aide of the building. Without stopping, probably not having noticed what he had done, he continued his rush, when the boy stepped In front of him. defiantly. 'Say, what do you want to knock a girl down for? Hit me. I’m big The man paused -In surprise, and then glanced around. He saw the flower girl picking up her wares, and understood. Without a moment's hesitation he went back to her. gave her enough money to makes her eyes sparkle with Joy. and said: "I'm sorry, my dear, that I hurt you. I didn't see." Then turning to the boy. he continued: "You said you were, big enough, young man. but you're a great deal bigger than yon think. Men like you will have a lot to do with keeping this old world In a condition of Mlf-respecL" Then he caught his car and the boy and the girl stood there wondering what he meanL—Denver Times.

■a Mlcht Chance.

The two monarch* who could change thrones to the greatest advantage are Edward VH. R. I., of Britain and the Indies, and Wilhelm II.. King of Prussia and German Emperor. Both are thoroughly acquainted with the political and social conditions of the “other country." Each speaks the language ol the realm of his Imaginary adoption with perfect ease. Kaiser Wilhelm !•« half English. King Edward Is ball

German.—Pearson’* Weekly.

-f-

The difference between self and conceit is the dlffi you and your neighbor.

1 » teU i