rwf ~ ■

CAPE MAY HERALD

AN' INDEPENDENT WEEKLY

Address sll CommunWStions tc THE HERALD, CAPE «AY, N. J.

• ppUcmtloo.

' This tiror Bania'i promlss to c oat of MsDrlmna Is UkrtJ to be (l tiled ttunks the Kscsa* City Star.

' It U op to the Grand Duke* to et'ono Blse. now that iraft 1* cat off for an tBdeflnitc urw to come, avera Uic New ITjrk ETenlng Sen.

The Ituxalan adtocatea of “peace at •ay price" found .Uiat It paid to wait tor the late seawn cut-price Inducement*. remark* tbr Baltimore Sun.

■' Tbr problem of a naval personnel Is serious and demands earnest consideration. asserts the Washington Star. Over 43.000 seamen are necessary to man oor ships, built and building, and at present the law authorises the enlistment of only 31.500. Each year SCOO additional seamen hare been authorised. 4000 being desired, bnt that ■umber 1* not deemed possible on account of present facilities for training. Ships of war are machines demanding, highly trained men. If a naval conBlct should come suddenly the problem of providing these skilled seamen .would be peculiarly perplexing to the Cnited States. ' President Hill, of the.Great Northern Ball way, ha* raised a question which every member of Congress should ponder. states Town Topic*. He shows by official statistics that during the six years from 1808 to 1003 about 90.000,€00 acres of our public lands were sold to monopolists and speculators. This means a territory larger than several of <^u! States. Mr. Hill denounces “the insane policy of the land laws, which tend to exhaust the public domain. 1 * and tears that. IT the latere it to Judged by the past, “Congress wtU consent to amend these laws only when there Is no land left that Is desired by On lumber king or the cattle baron.' Only 58,000 children were born In Hew Tork City last year, though It has • population* - of about 4,000,000, of whom about 2,500,000 are over twenty yeara old. This record of one baby to forty two persona must distress President Roosevelt, thinks Town Topic*. The Hebrews lead the birth roll with lft,000; the Americans and Italians— name nationality nowadays—come next With 12.000 each. There are more boys than girls, which is an omen of tat, as the excess Is only -190. It will be ■ little war. The Irish and Germans, fecund in their own countries, gave only 3880 aud 2390 babies, and the Scotch only sixty-Ore. Very dlacourag- - tog. Mr. President

MAN WHO WORKS AND GIVES.

u'iiM'iVZSk-i. Aaugivss to his

The Envoi<1 nrg flanm tost will glow sou «fc'

“SS- 1 '

And give to your fellowman.

'Milwaukee Sentinel.

YtfHO did ;irr?

BY (VtAKIE UOUIBE F»OOL..

KNEW where she was, to © ou» uncle's: •n* 1 went straight there. “Bbt- w»* white's a sheet wiien she come Into the parlor where I stood waltremed U waver when abe got Inside ibr door. 1 took a step toward her V pot out my arms. She looked at me. then she come to me, an'

1 held her.

'*8be didn't make a sound for a long time. Aa for me. 1 couldn't apeak. I was )est as sure then's 1 was afterward that I never should bold her In my arms ag’ln. The first thing I said,

finally, was:

“*1 was with Tom Merle In his new bouse last night.' 'She gave a little cry *n' clung cioaer. ' 'Did be tdl youT she arst. He didn't tell me anything much: only he's rich now.’ ' Why didn't be tell' Why didn't • tellT she cried out. “1 wouldn't help her. I felt cruel. 1 wanted to kill her. After a long time she lifted her head from my breast 1»’ steppefl^away from me. “I Jest stood, with my arms bangin' down 'n' looked at her. It's terrible to love anybody's 1 loved her then. " Tm suin' to marry Tom Merle.’ she

■ id.

I to be rich?* .

which Bismarck pointed

■gain and again. In referring to hi* making peace with Austria in 1S66, the Japanese hare signally Kloatratod. say* the New York Evening Post They have not imperilled their future by

• too greedily at present *d- . They have made peace on

■ basis which wUl enable them to live on good toms with a nation that must tong be their neighbor, and which Is so moderate la Us nature that U may wren lead the way. as la the ca» at ULustris and Prussia. »o an alliance between the former belligerent*. This may not be generosity to a foe, strictly speaking. it may be only enlightened . selfishness: hot It Is statesmanship at Che highest order. # Am we to pass. In consequence of the fmEsing success of President Boooevelt—who to-day stacks admitted fhs most powerful ruler on earth—Into an entirely new conception of cmr mission among the national oaks the New ’tm* Evening Post. We think flsf.

•Becnuse you

•Yes.'

•My throat wns so dry I bad to be silent. I wasn’t going to plead with '. I couldn't do it. As soon as my voice came I said 'I guensed 1 better be goin'.' 1 turned. I stumbled onto iny hat that I'd' dropped on the floor. I stooped to It up. Somehow 1 w*g»bllBU ’B' 1 couldn't seem to see the door. When I did get my hand on the latch she said: "'Air.' . “fehe was standing right then, with bet eyes on me. • 'Shall you marry Merle? - 1 amt •She twtated her bands together. She opened her Up*, bnt 1 didn't bear what she said. “ 'Shall you marry Merle?* I said

loud.

“She nodded her bead. •T opened -the door 'n' I got street some way. “All the way home-1 had a powerful wish to kit Merle '# Ruth, 'ni thro myself. I'd strangle tbem,’’n' then ptrt s bullet into my bead. I went, over 'n' over it. I was so look «ro with my 1 houghts I didn't gtt out'at the right deepo, but was carried past, 'n' had it) walk ten miles IxHne. When l did git home 1 went right to bed 'n* slept like a log ail night. Next day i couldn't work hard 'nough. I was thankful to God that I stopped thtaktu'- « stranglin' them "But at the end of'a month when Meric 'n' Ruth wa* married 'n' went to lire In '.heir new bouse, . nother Idea come Into my mind, *n' I couldn't git St

out.

“Yon see If* for this idea I begun to tell you tbia, V I "didn't mean to make a love story out of It. bot It kind of seems a* if I had: '■* I hats tors stories. '''"’’I ' “I used to drive by Ibe Stearns bouse, as w e caned It, twice every daySometimes I seen Both In the yard with Tom. but the neve: looked round, though Tom used to swing hla cap ’n'

ween the 11 th and 12th of the month. Jest Ss soon at I’d settled that 1 begun lo be cheerful. “The days before the 11th went like flash. I tell you. When the time come 1 didn't know any better way than to git into the suller with some kindlin'* and kerosene. 1 knew bow, for I had examined. "The wind begun to rise when the sun aet. That was good for me. 1 In high spirits at supper. 1 wondered why mother-kep' looking at me so. She said, my eyes didn't 'pear Jest right her. I laughed to myself when I went upstairs to bed that night, at'fi o’clock. How the wind whistled about •n' bow the pine trees lashed thclrselve*' 1 thought I'd have a nap 'fore 12. 1 bad put the kindlin'* 'n' the oil all ready In the wood house 'g'inst I need With such a plan In my bead, woold you thought I could slept? I didn't, at first. 1 lay In my bed with the clo'es drawn up over my ears, thin kin', tblnkin\ I don't know bow 'twaa, but my plan seemed to satisfy me. 1 kep' tblnkln' how Tom Merle looked when him last. 1 wondered if he'd be burned to death, be'n hi* wife. What If be sh'd die. 'n' I should save his wife? But I didn't reckon on that. The wind kep’ right on, shriekin' like d wild bedsts. My bed kinder rocked, 'n' it rocked me to sleep. Anyway I went to sleep tblnkln' Jest how ~ d creep out, bo's not to rouse mother. “You see, I wa* dead tired. I’d worked like a tiger for the last two or three day*, ■b' hadn't alep' any. Well, didn't wake up till there was a strip of sunlight lying right across my bed. The'sun had been up a half-hour. I couldn't make It out. I was stoopid. I threw my feet outer bed 'n' sat atari'. How cohid 1 bare alep' so? 'There wa'n't a hit of wind stlrrin' now. I hurried on my clo'es, '■' the first thing 1 did was to go out to the shed. My kindlin' 'n* my oU-c*n wa'n't

there.

“I stood lookin' at the place where they'd been. There were marks of muddy feet, ’bout halt dry, V there was my rubber boots, splashed 'n' half dry, too. It had ben rainy lately, 'n* the roads Vus full of puddlra. “I was pretty down. I didn’t feel't the woodbouae when I 'cross the road to. our

the milk.

>r Children

Jest's we turned onto the main street Then be looked at ms so strange, V bli voice shook a little as.be said: " T never was so sorry to do a thlnf in my IMg, Alf. I don't understand U 1 don't understand It. I hope some thln'll come out- I can't believe lt.‘ T told him I didn't know what b< ras talkin’ about. "He abut Ills mouth tight and didn't say anything more: “You better believe I grew more 'n

■tore daaed.

"1 saw a crowd round where the Stearns bouse was "Borne of the men left 'n' come along with us, all of nm lookin’ curiously al "What do you think It all meant? "They’d took me up for settln' that fire: 'n' me asleep In my bed all night. “I felt exactly as If I'd done It. But 1 hadn't, you see; bad 1? 'Fort God, I can't to this day gtt to the right* ol

that question.

They'd found my tin can 'bout a rod from the fire. H had my nai scratched on to It ao's the grocer’d know it when he took It to fill it "Worae'n that: 1 was seen' with bundle of wood ’n’ that can goln’ Intc the back gate of the Stearns place 'bout an hour Tore the blare come out. ' 1 was seen runnln' across the fields

ward borne. It wa* moonlight by 12 with the sickle tbr tuft* in The fence o'clock, 'n' dear's a bell. i corner*. When big brother Jed cut* “I was In my shirt sleeves V trowsii, j the grass In the back yard be does it V no bat, when I was seen last My I leas carefully, and all along the lowhat wa* found near the bouse that was | fence are round tufts of toft, fine grass.

(tor grocer’* clerk roUMs r Though why be should I e For ■other »o*tly order*

Such food for roine folk* may wem But scarce excites my intcrc*t. When I grow up. my eroccr • fieri Will very aeidom need to work; The butcher'* boy 111 «*k to call Just ooce id spring sad once id ial

To order caramel* and fudge..

At night, a box of chocolate cream.. To me eon of plcuant dreams!

I ness to have the toy-shop man Stop just aa often ** be can.

New toys grow tiresome toon, you know. And then, one's friends do break tncm so. Heigh-ho! what bliss trill tUrmy cup When I grow up' When 1 grow up! —W. E. Kaollyr, in Youth’* Companion.

GREEN GRASS HAIR.

When big brother Jed mows the front lawn be cut* the grass smooth and with a lawn mower, and trims

that poor little Wlnnln would Sometime* get lost, and Cora would have to bring her back to the core. One day Willie Worm ste right through the outside wall and saw the

world.

“0 Winnie,’’ be cried, T'm.going outside''“O Willie, don't go. v. "YosH fall, you know'" Bot Willie wa* wilful. He crawled out of the hole be had made and stretched himself on the red shining outalde world. "If* fine out here,” be said; "you ought to come. Just watch

I’ll a

t 1 c

i dor

burnt. It was my bat. no mistake. T remembered the half dry mud on my boots that were kicked off In the

<t th* wall 1*

kAider excited. .Ssein' me she * at the open door with bar tin qi

her hand.

“ T didn’t know’s ydfc was u

said. ftHA ]

' In the

prions reelin' 'boot Ruth. I &

but wind.'

- That's what I told urn,' abe aal •it blew to we couldn't bear the bells If they'd ben under our nosea.' •It always Took so long for her to me to the point. - •Bells?' 1 said. 1 wanted to abakc her. I begun to tremble. “ 'Yes; they rung both the meetln'faouae bell*; but, land, what could they do! Awful fire! The Steam# bouse burnt to the ground In no time In oneb u The work of a incendTy, they Tm goln' to got breakfast Tight sway. Don't sea

yo»*ve et.'

"She went In. V I board her setttB* tbv table. I didn't mors tfll abe called ms; 'a' then, instld of goth’ Into the kitchen. I went upstairs 'o' salt down

never returned even beer father knew. “It was tough when I'd kee urn there's I went by. “One time when Tom come out scud a package by express, when he banded np the bundle, something come into my mind so strong I’d Vke to have toppled off ay scat. "I s'pose Td borne things 'bout'*

long's I could.

“I would born down that great ■team* bouse I wouldn't see K no longer. X didn't cane Who burned in It

I would do it.

"Too can't think what a queer kind of a Joy that thought gave me. P'raps yosTI say Twa* a bellisk Joy: p'raps

things. The Stearns boos* burnt down! And I didn't ds It! Who done it? Yrwbo’d got ahead of me V done K? kep' try In’ to think clear, but 1 couldn’t “J beard mothgr call me again; then _tie come up the stairs. I was so tried with bar I could have pushed her

•way: but I didn't stir.

*• 'Air: abe told, ’the coffee's glttln' cold. I s'pose you're struck all of a heap. So be 1. They say thsve wa'n't nobody killed; bot Tom Merle wsked bis life, 'n' got awful hurt glttln' hi* wife out Come, the coffee’ll b# spiled.'

roflM sian’tbrre OR X id to go down 'n' dr

coffee. But I couldn't eflt, V I even try. Mother kep'onyln'twooldn’t help noth' not to eat: 'n' the -*-* wonder 1 was struck of a heap. "Jest as I couldn't besrJt no •n' bad shoved back fro* the the outside door was opened. *n' BID

“What do yon make of it? It was a grass clear wase enough. 1 hadn't no defense. How could 1 hare? I got a lawyer Jest to please mother—ahe was 'boot wild. But my lawyer couldn't do much. He tried to git up an entenuatln' plea that I did it In my sleep: but folks wa’n't goln' to «waller no such staff at that. How conld I blame

cm? I- didn't.

“It waa proved aa plain as day that I set fire to the Stearns bouse, an' I bed to go to prison. “I never seen my mother after I was sentenced. She had s fever an’ died. That took bold of me for a spell; but A

wore off some.

'•You see I never said a word to anyone bow I'd planned to bum that b< u-o till years after. Do yon think I did it? You do? Well, I expect 1 did; but It was unbeknownst to me. •A minister told me the gnilt was on my soul when I planned It. I dnnno 'boat that. Bet let It go. We can't know the rights pt It. "I Dus: tell yon what happened after 'd ben In prison a year. "I was told to go Into the visitors' oom a* gome one wanted to see me. didn’t guea* who It waa There aat woman with a thick veil on. If her veil had bees twice os thick 1 should have known the turn of bar shoulders. igtit mads me faint. I leaned np against the wall'. 1 didn't try to speak. She didn't speak either, for several minute*. She got up from her chair V stood boldin' onto the back of It Take off your veil,’ I said; V she

"God! what makes s man love ao? There abe was very white, 'n' lookin' at me with them eyes that killed me. “'1 couldn't help coinin', she said. 'It's ben the one thing I've wanted lo do xiacr you've ben her*. 1 wanted to tell you I knew you done It ’n' I Idn'i blame yoo. Yea, you done It;

»* I forgive you.'

“Her eyre kep- on me ao'a I eouldn't e rough's I'd meant to be. “ 'You forgive mef 1 said. That’a a queer thing for you to come to me to •Yea.' abe repeated, 1 should forgive you anything you did.- Taint likely 1 should expect you to forgive k I can’t ask It—I can't ask it’ Her voice began to quiver. She stopped. She turned her face away. there like a stake atuck In the ground. AU 1 could do wa* to look at b«r- I didn't reckon 1 should ~er aet eyes on her agin. And I ain't. 'Wbat was the use of tellln’ her that I didn't do that deed; leastways that I didn't know I done It? I knew la my heart I bad ’planned and meant lb "After a while abe said abe most go, Tt-would I a*y good-bye? She held out her hand. I took It I didn’t *Pe»tUy throat was abut up. It wa# *11 I

could do to breathe.

went out of the Epem. I beard log fan In Ibe passage. I beard somebody say. -fthe's fainted: I was

iken back to my cell.

That vsaa a long while ago. I think of It a good deal, 'n' I’m powerful aorry for tkr feller that went through it. Aa I aet here by this popple swamp it don't rightly seem as If 'twas me. “Last year when I waa pickin' berries on th* upland yonder. I come upon a young gal. She 41dn't see me at first, bot I seen her 'n' I bad a instant of tblnkln' twa* Bath, Just as she was

“itor.

Busy Ann and Polly Ann—whose Sunday name* Written In the big Bible are Pusan end Marian, strolling about the back yard, noticed the drooping, limp

like green hair," said

dreamy Busy Ann.

“Which needs combing." added tidy

Polly Ann.

‘Let's," said both, and dropped down, d set to work to arrange that streaming green gras* hair. As they worked they separated the grass into six portions, which were six he* to of hair belonging to the Green family. It is necessary to handle gras* hair

Little Winnie Worm pul her head out of the bole Just m time to see While fall on the slippery surface, slide, turn swiftly in Ibe air. and--disappear! She was so frightened she fould hardly crawl hack to the core and tell Corn. ‘ Cor* was very sorry, and wept—real worm leers—but she said: "It's safer stick to the core, and I told While If be had only walled for the thump! We must!" They did. It

■me!

The apple bouse wss now on the ground, and Corn and Winnie left the core and visited the outside world. It seemed very chilly, so they saade their winter bed*, rolled themselves tight In many blankets, and went to sleep. They slept all winter, and never heard the cold wind* blow or felt tbe snow. Id tbe long sleep they even forgot little Willie Worm. When the warm daya came In spring, they opened their beds, and flew out! Such a wonderful sleep It bad been! Tbey did not feel like tbe same children. Even their name* bad been changed! Tbey were now Misses Cora Hue and Winsome Butterfly!—Joahua F. Crowell. In Youth's Companion. A KITE THAT PUBS WELL Here is a small kite which may be easily made and flown from a window. Tbe material is found In every house, and It doesn’t take much effort to make

one.

Get two long straw* from th£ house

PICTURE PUZZLE.

gr THE BEST FOB CHICKS. <1 The Incubator has come to stay, and the enterprising poultry man who cars! to keep up with the procession has ooo It** those young broilers that bring'is tbe large returns. BREAKING A COLT TO HALTER There Is a little Item in the Horse Breeder that contain* a great deal ol Information m a nnubeil for those whs breed and break colts. It says thatxb« best time to balter-bresk s foal is before'tbe youngster is six hours old. th* sooner after the foal 1* on 1U feet tbe better. This la very easily done when the mare drops her foal In a box stalk In catching tbe foal pass tbe left arm under tbe neck to front of the chest and pres* tbe hand, with no more force than is absolutely necessary against the opposite fore shoulder. At th* same time pass the bight arm over the youngster's back and pass the band back to bis quarter. Talk to him in gentle, soothing tones and be will aooo cease struggling. After repeating tbs' lesaon a few times put a soft, easy fib ting bead halter on him. and by tbe time be is three days old be will b« halter broken. BEES vAS BAROMETERS. Whoever observes bees carefully finds tt easy enongb to foretell exactly tbe kind of weather to be expected! At least that is the opinion of many raisers of bees. Generally the be* stays at borne when rain is in the air When tbe sky is simply dark and cloudy these busy workers do not leave their dwelling all at once. A few go out at first as though the queen had sent out messengers to study the state of the almorpbere. Tbe greater number remain on observation until the clouds begin <o break up and disappear. and then all the bees rush out In search of nectar. A bee never goes oup In a fog, because tt is well aware that dampness and cold are two of (belt natural enemies. The bees' cleverness consists In never being taken una-' wares, for it is possessed of untiring vigilance. Often one may observe th* sudden entrance of bee# into'tbe hive when a dense cloud hides tbe son, and even though rain Is not in evidence.— Editor, in The Epitomist L---*-

THE MILK CANS.

Find tbe farmer, who Is accompanied by hi# daughter.—Mirror andFarmra.

carefully lest It cut the finger*, but It is like real hair in that wbat is pulled out grow* in again. Doll's hair once

out to out to stay.

Aa Polly Ann combed with a pointed Stick, and smoothed and twisted and fastened with twig hairpins, abe announced. "Mr*. Green part* her

tried bird not to seem frightened when

window, gnd

bun,' for they are faaluonable, for tbey are faafiTonable, and Mrs. Green to a

very fashionable woman." ,

gfisy Ann preferred a pompadour for Mi— Green, with a red rose on one aide and half-bidden iq the heavy locks a pair of “lady's *ardrops''-wblcfa to the old-fashioned name for fuchsia. "Blossom Green will wear her hair Just aa yop and I do,” she said, “tied with a bow oftsWpid ribbon grass. Though if on curl sticks I think K

would grow curly.”

"And Poesy Green . . _ ■aid Polly Ann, "because It to such fun to pleat them tight. 8be can bare striped grass ribbon, too." Thsre wa* one little wisp of grass left That'* Gretna Green’s,' plained Busy Ann. “She's very and hasn’t much hair left." She twisted •the little Into a nrat pug. and covered tt with a dainty cap of Queen Ann'a laceThen Busy Ann and Poll} Ann stood back and looked with pride at the six neatty arranged Green heads. “Any back yart might be proud of such head* of hair," told Busy Ann. T wish tbey were along tbe front walk, where caller* could nee them." said "Polly Ann.—Mary Alden Hopkins, is Youth's Companion.

IN an'Vpplk.

In the core of an apple dwelt

broom, a piece of thin, unwrinkled paper, and some thread-No. CO or 60. Tbe best paper to tbe white wrapping paper used In grocery stores. On tbe paper draw a Hue twelve Inches long. Four Inches from tbe end draw anr line across It, which may be n inches long. Connect the end# of the** Unes. and you wJU hare a

T-Sfe

' All fnllk cans snd palls should be Of -tinned steel, and, in order that they may be properly cleaned, they should be ao made tba' every part can be seen and reached, and all cracks or crevice* should be filled up with solder. AU seams should be .well made and filled ap with tbe same material. The best cans are now made of one piece of steel without seams. Milk cans aad pails should first be scrubbed and washed out with cold or tepid water, then swilled with cold stater, and finally. scalded out with boiling water or steam. Then they should be set out drip and dry in such a position that dust can enter. If the cans have bad seams these must be cleaned out with great care. Tbey should be picked out with a splinter of white wood or bone before beglnlng to clean tbe cam The cleaning of milk cans should never be delayed o moment after they are empty. It would be a very great advance. indeed. If one'dally cleaning of milk cans could be undertaken by tbe creameries, where power and steam are both at command, not only the cans going badt to*tbe farms empty, but , those going back with skim milk ot buttermilk as well. — ilasaachnsettl

paper marked out to look like In tbe picture. Cut off all tbe paper not Beaded. On the two Haas first drawn cut Uttls

WHY HENS DO NOT PAY. Ben* do not pay wb -n their owner loses sight of the fact that they need food aad a certain amount of care. Just aa do any other living things. The man who keeps hsns too often thinks that tbey absolutely seed no care whatever, and that thy should gather everything tbey rat from the scrap piles around tbe bouse and barn; that they should roost in tbe tree top* and drink from the filthy pools where tbr hogs, are allowed to wallow. If by chance they have a house to roost In It to never cleaned during the entire year, and lice are allowed to have ful.‘

la It surprising that hens treated this way do not toy and that they are not profitable? Try a different way this year and see If things do not change tar you. -j DRINKING TROUGH. In raising poultry tt to very necessary to have plenty of good, clean water convenient for them to drink. This makes one ef the beat poultry, troughs I hare ever seen: Thke a plrc*

-ooo