University of South Carolina Libraries
THE NATIONAL BRNK OF AUGUSTA L. C. HATKE, Pres*.. F. G. FORD, Cashier. Capital, 8250,000. Snrnlus anil ) (gt 1 j\ (S'iCi Undivided Profits f V * A VjVVV. Facilities of our mairnlfic-<mt New Vault containing 410 >afe:y-Lock Bosea. Differ ent Slzea are offered to our patrons and the public at $3.i0 to $10.00.per anuuux. THOS. J ADAMS PROPRIETOR. EDGEFIELD. S. C.. WEDNESDAY. JANUARY 29. 1902 VOL LX VII NO. 5 You Wi Nice Christa We have the most < mas Goods of ei Goods, Fine Wat ware. No matter it. Everything tl Fine Engraving ai Cali early or writi WM. sen WE g 702 BROAD STRKI New York Cl'y.-Smart blouse waists are much in demand to wear with jacket suits and the very necessary separate skirts that have come to A FA>'CY ELOUSE. stay. The simple style illustrated e: emplifies the fact that tucking is m Indispensable to the realization of fashionable waist. Ivory white pea de soie of good quality is here charn .ij^Tjcomb^ crochet lac 'over'corn colored satin, and triinmei with shaped bands of the silk pipet with black panne velvet and stitchec on each edge, tassel ornaments finish ing the pointed ends. Velvet belt closed .with fancy clasp. The lining is fitted .with single oust darts centre back, under-arm and shoulder seams and closes in front under the plastron that j is included in the right shoulder seam and hooks over on the left. The blouse proper has single pleats laid at the end of each shoulder seam and is cut away at the neck and fronts to disclose the A SMART ET plastron and yoke of lace. The sleeves in bishop style are arranged on fitted linings which are faced at the lower edges to form cuffs, shaped straps being added to match the waist trim ming. Shapely epaulettes of the lace give length to the shoulders, but these may be omitted if not desired. To cut this waist in the medium size three and three-quarter yards of mate rial twenty-one inches wide, two and three-quarters yards twenty-seven inches wide or two and five-eighth yards thirty-two inches wide or one and seven-eighth yards forty-four inches wide will be required, with one and one-eighth yards of lace and four and a half yards of piping to trim as Illustrated. Woman's Eton Blouse Jacket. In spite of the tendency toward long and three-quarter coats the smart blouse Eton has renewed its hold on the popular fancy and is more in de mand than ever for suits hs well as for separate wraps. The added basque gives a more seasonable effect, but none of its smartness is lost when that portion is omitted. As represented in the large drawing by May Manton it forms part ol' a zibeline, costume iii rich dark red and the lapels are faced with fancy velvet In black and white, the edges being simply tailored with double TOWS of machine stitching. The garment is simply fitted with wide un der-arm gores and shoulder seams. The fronts lap in double breasted style when closed, but may gracefully be worn open as illustrated. The neck is finished with a double collar that rolls over at the seam. The basque por tions fit smoothly over the hips, meet ing closely at the back and flaring slifcatiy apart at the front. It is ts Present. ? m complete stock of Christ- . cry description; Fancy 5 ches, Jewelry, Silver-? what yon want we haye J ic bast and guaranteed. . nd Repairing. [5 ns your wants. I GERT & CO., j CT, AUGUSTA, GA. ? seamed to the lower edge and the belt conceals the joining. The coat sleeves flare stylishly over the,"hands and the garment is warmly interlined and lined with white satin. Velvet, cordu roy, kersey, broadcloth, cheviot and all heavy wool suiting will develop sat isfactorily by the mode. To cut this jacket in the medium size four yards of material twenty-one inches wide, three and three-quarter yards twenty-seven inches wide, two yards forty-four inches wide or one and three-quarter yards fifty-four inches wide will bc required, with five eighth yards of facing eighteen inches wide to make as illustrated. Handsome Velveteen Costumes. Louis coaw of velvet and separate waists of velvet will be much worn; also shirt waists of velveteen in dark shades are relieved of their plainness by a vest of bright color or white ma terial, giving a sharp outline to the coat. - vi uiacK Deaver trimmed with soft loops of red Liberty satin ribbon and black tips. The fronts are stylishly loose in box style and join to the backs by under arm seams that with thc centre back curves becoming ly to the figure, wide revers roll back above the closing and the neck is ON BLOUSE. finished with a turn-over collar that closes invisibly in centre. The sleeves are in regulation coat style finished at the wrist with rounded cuffs. The capes lit smoothly over the shoulders, and may bf? included in the neck seam or finished separately and hooked on under thc collar. Coats in this style may be made from any suitable wool fabric, velvet, corduroy or cheviot, all being fashionable. To cut this coat for a girl of eight years five yards of material twenty one inches wide, four and a quarter COAT FOR A QIRIi. yards twenty-seven inches wide, two and three-quarter yards forty-four inches wide or two and a half yards fifty-two inches wide will be require^ r IF MEN NEVER CARED WHJ I. If men never cared whnt the world might say We could lld all our schemes adieu, And life would be only n holiday, With never a goal In view; You could cease from coveting honor?, andi ' Could give up my dreams and content edly lie at ease while the days went slipping nway, If men never cared what the world might say. % A PRESENT FRI Young Gildmore Goldrock told me this strange story, and I will give the story in Goldrock's own words, as he gave it to us in the sraokeroom of the j Anglo-American club: "It happened last year,"* said Gold . rock, as he hoisted his feet on to the mantelpiece and addressed his words to the clock. "I was crossing to Liverpool and happened to strike up an acquaintance with the young Pole who shared my stateroom. He was a pleasant young fellow, and in the course of a day or ? two we became great friends. He told me that his name was Ladislas Nado koff, and that he had been studying medicine at Philadelphia. He further more confided that he was on his way to London to visit a friend of his youth. "In return I told bim how I was go ing to England to spend a few months with my married sister, the Countess of Darnford, with whom my wife was already staying, having crossed before me, since I had been detained a few weeks in New York on business. "Nadokoff then told me he, too, had a si.;ter, who was married to a Rus sian nobleman who was a sort of sher iff ii his own eountry, and commander of a posse of Cossacks. So, on the strength of our aristocratic connec tions, our confidences grew so that we used to talk quite freely of political matters. "Nadokoff's politics were a bit mixed At the time I thought this was be cause he was quite young, and had not learned that political views should be used as a means to a profitable end. "But his politics had been acquired in some other place than America, the land of the free. He hinted of old scores, dating back hundreds of years, which were to be wiped out by young er and more vigorous generations. Not far safer subjects than Russian poli tics; for somehow I mistrusted this elderly gentleman, who spoke English like a German, drank his tea with a lemon, and while he gave himself out a's a commercial traveler, walked as though he were waiting for the clink of the spurs at his heels and the rat tle of his sword at his side. "He was registered on the passen ger list as Mr. William Smith, which was strange, considering that his hand kerchief was embroidered with the in itials 'J. KV It takes a Russian to spell Smith with a K. "As we approached Queenstown, Na dokoff, who had been looking ill and worried throughout the voyage, seemed to grow more ill at ease. "At bedtime, the night before we reached Queenstown, he did not turn up in the stateroom. I waited till long after 'lights out,' then I grew anxious about him, and passed the word for the steward, who went to look for him. "He had disappeared. "The ship was searched high and low by the watch, who were warned by the captain to hold their tongues about the matter, but no trace of him could be found. " ' 'E's just been and gone and Blipped overboard,' said our stateroom steward; 'they do sometimes, you know.' "Strange to say, as we were hunting round the decks Mr. Smith, who, 1 knew, had retired to his stateroom an hour or more before, joined us in our search. "Still stranger, as I was returning to my berth, I saw Mr. Smith disappear ing down the passage, although his berth was situated on the other side of the ship. "When I looked over at Nadokoff's empty berth I noticed that his port manteau had been moved since I had leu thc cabin. When I came to open my own portmanteau I found it locked. Then I remembered that earlier in the evening, as Nadokoff was going along to the stateroom from the smoking cuddy on deck. liad given him my key, and asked i .rn to get me a few cigars, which were stored away in the pocket of my flannel jacket. "He had evidently jumped overboar? with my key, but I was too troubled about him to worry about that, be sides which I knew that my wife had a duplicate key on her bunch. "At Liverpool a half crown to the customs officer passed my portmanteau an right, and I did not open it till I reached my brother-in-law's house in Park lane, where my wife was stay ing. My wife had Ibo key on her ring, and stood by as I unlocked thc bag. '"You dear old boy,' she cried, as tho bag opened and showed a large jewel case, which lay on the top of my cjothes. 'You have been wasting your money again on me at Tiffany's, I know. It's too wicked of you.' "I felt a bit uncomfortable, for the fact was I had been too busy in New York to remember my usual visit to Tiffany's, besides which I had never set eyes on the jewel ease before. " 'I'm afraid it is not for you. dear,' said I, as I opened the case. My wife gasped as the lid flew up. and showed a bracelet formrd of a heart-shaped mass of opals framed in a most won derful setting cf diamonds. '"Oh! how lovely,' she sighed; 'but \T THE WORLD MIGHT SAY. ii. Iff If men never cared what the world mlgbV: say No man would bo moved to try To burry ahead on tho upward way, And as laggards we'd Ino and die; No songs would bo written and never a; j cheer Would be raised by the crowds for ai. boro to hear, And, useless, ere long, we should meanly.^. decay- .s??j Ob, it's well that men care What the World may say. I THE PRINCE. <a anyway, I hate opals; they are un-| lucky. But who is it for, dear?' she jj added. "I told her I did not know. Then rJBj saw tucked in under the bracelet al/ small note, i opened it. " 'Dear friend,' it ran, 'I can bea.r;4? my life no longer, so tonight I sha.,i jump overboard. My last request am sure you will faithfully execute. Take this bracelet to the Countess Za linska, and tell her it ls a parting giff from her old lover, Prince Ladislas Nadokoff. She lives in Park lane, quite close to your sister's house. Farewell, dear friend; may we meet in a kinder and less troubled world. Thine, Ladislas. "My wife had lifted the bracelet, and, as women will, for Its better In spection, was about to clasp it on her wrist. " 'Don't, dear,' said I hastily. I did not reason why, but somehow I dis liked the idea of her wearing it. "She put it back In the case obedi ently, but laughed at me for a super stitious old hubby. ' .. "Then I showed her the letter, and told her the story of my friend on the boat. Then she cried a little, and of fered to deliver it to the Countess Za finska, an offer which I gladly accept ed, tor I was beginning to look for-' ward to my commission with some misgivings. "I hate scenes. My wife likes them, so the .iext morning after breakfast she made a careful toilet and prepared | to visit the countess. "I gave her the bracelet and my blessing, and told her to break the news gently to thc countess, who might still be fond of her old lover, and how to dodge the count, if such a person existed, and to bluff the game through on the pretense of calling for a sub scription for a home for lost dogs. "MT wife had not left the house many g seemed to mc that he knew Jeannette, and that he came as near winking at her as a policeman could. " 'Mr. William Smith, I believe,' said I, rising. " 'Forgive me-Mr. Goldrick,' said my visitor, politely, "but William Smith is merely my nom de guerre. I am Johann Katchachieff, of the Rus sian imperial police.' "'Oh, lori' I murmured, under my breath, 'What have I been doing? Pleased to meet you, Mr. Katchachieff,' I replied, politely. 'What do you want of me?' " 'You remember a young man who shared your stateroom on the Umbria?' " 'Just a bit.' " 'He jumped overboard the night be fore that vessel reached Queenstown,' he continued. " 'That's so,' I assented. " 'What I require to know is: What became of a certain bracelet in his pos session?' " 'Then you- won't find out from me!' I replied, rather shortly, for I did not feel like giving away poor Ladislas' love affairs to a 'trap,' ?nd a nussian 'trap' at that. " 'Look here,' said he, furiously, 'if J you do not tell me at once, I have an order for your arrest from the chief commissioner of the English police.' , "I beckoned to the policeman who ' was standing at thc door with Jean- J ette. " 'Come here, constable, and see fair play,' said I. " 'The bracelet,' said I 'was placed in my portmanteau by Mr. Nadokoff ? before he jumped overboard, with a note, in which he asked me to deliver 1 it to a lady who lives close by here. 4 My wife has just gone out for that purpose.' "'Heavens!' cried the Russian, j 'where does she live? That bracelet is a bomb, and was sent by a secret so- ? ciety in New York as a means to the assassination of the Countess Zalinska, who is the wife of the chief of police. 1 Directly the clasp is snapped-' 1 "I didn't wait to think. I just '. streaked to the door, pushing the po- 1 liceman in front of me. ' " 'Run,' I yelled. "We tumbled down the hall steps, j and lighted up Park lane to the admi- ( ration of the surrounding citizens. "It did not take us long to reach the , countess' house. j "The policeman was first, the Rus- , sian second, while I was a close third, j "The door was opened, and we j plunged in and toro up stairs. ' : . " 'Where's the countess?' gasped the : ? Russian. , ' : "A frightened servant jerked a ftnm '? ger toward a door. M \ "Wc tumbled into the room. ff "In the countess* hands . was th? bracelet. f ' "She was in thc act of clasping it ahj her wrist when the Russian pounceB upon it, snatched it from her, and flunP it out of the window. "There was a fcatful report, fol lowed by a cia ter o? falling glass be low. "Thc countess had fainted. i "Katchachieff seemed to know all about it. He told me how Ladislas had belonged to a Nihilist club in New ' York, and how he had been commis sioned to deliver the bracelet to the countess. "He had opened his sealed lettov of instructions the night hefore we reached Liverpool, and not till then had Le become aware of the identity bi his victim, .; "I d? not blame him for jumping overboard, but I have never quite been able to appreciate the honor he did me when he intrusted me with the infer-" aal gift."-Penny Pictorial Magazine. THE WIDOW AND THE DONKEY. - iho Wai Stire Tlirtt Uti Contained lite Soul of lief Husband It was not much of a compliment td the memory of the departed, but love ls-^proverbially blind, and affection sometimes displays itself after a strange fashion, as the following 3tory, which is going the rounds of Paris, tends once more to Illustrate. Some little time ago a wealthy citi zen, dwelling in the neighborhood of %e Madeline, went over to the ma K>rity, deeply mourned by his wid >w, who- was herself beginning to be ilricken in years. One fine day the ^jrr lady brightened up. Every iorning a rag-picker passed her door .vith a litle cart drawn by a donkey, md she took it into her head that !>er husband's manes had fouiid a .efnge in the body of the animal. 5roin"-that moment the donkey had io reason to complain of want of at ;ention, at least on her part. Daily it the self same hour, and whether ie weather was fine or rainy, the worthy dame awaited the appearance )f the cart, stuffed a quantity of good ;hings down the animal's throat and j lt intervals gave handsome presents including clothes which she had her >elf embroidered to keep it warm to he astonished but gratified rag-pick jr. One day the man made his appear ance alone and in answer to anxious j nquiries informed the horrified wid- j rw that the donkey, in which, as she | bndly imagined her husband's spirit ! iwelt, was very ill, and that, in fact, j ts life could only be saved by a :ourse of treatment for which he ! :ould not possibly pay. Fifty francs were promptly handed to the delight- I fd rag-picker, with the request that I veterinary surgeon should be im nediately summoned, and, when she ? .ailed a few hours afterward to see ! low the animal Iwas getting on, she bund that it was being carefully latched by a well-dressed individual, ! vho assured her that he would guar tntee an eventual cure, but that all ? his would entail an outlay of .500 ! rancs. The poor lady hurried off to her ? lome in a cab. and returned in no ' i in o wit-Vi -- en, who became grave digger in 1871 | liter a mill accident. A friend of Pasteur's in Paris says :hat the man who was to revolution ze chemi'stry stood 14th in a list of ' 12 boys in the high school of- Dijon ind was marked "weak" in chemistry. The average height of a man taken j :hrough the civilized world generally nay be assumed a's something above i feet 6 inches. The average of Anier can-born whites, according to army .ecords, is 5 feet 7.07 inches. There ire "pigmy" races in Africa and Asia, : mt there are "giants" also. A prisoner in charge of a policeman iumped from an express train near ?rewct England, recently, and the po iceman jumped after him. Neither ivas seriously hurt. The prisoner ran, jvith the policeman after him, and was .'aught by the heel as he tried to dimb the railroad embankment. In musketry training at Aldershot, : England, experiments are being made ivith a new style of targets. By means it an electrical device heads are made :o appear and disappear at regular j ntervals along the sky line of a range )f hills, representing an enemy taking lim and firing. These constitute tar j jets upon which the rifle shots prac? dee. A tale of geese and death is told by j Nature Notes: "Mr. Francis Slanier >f Peplow Hall, near Market Drayton, 1 ivas a millionaire and a well-known ? philanthropist. He had some favorite ? American and Japanese geese, which | ie fed with his own hands, and which | svere kept on a pool near the Hall. He ! lied the other day, and strange to re- ; late, during the last hours of his ill- ; less, these birds, numbering over a 100, flew around his bedroom window, ! Deating their wings against the glass, I intering a wierd. screeching noise. In : ilmost thc last moments of the squire's life the whole flock of birds il'sappearcd. and not one of tiiem has been seen since." In Atlanta, a small town in Illinois, lives Frank dawson, a fiddler, whose :hief bid for fame lies in the fact that I be is without hands. Several years igo he was caught in a blizzard and both hands were so badly frozen that rhey were amputated at the wrist. Be ing somewhat of a mechanical genius, tie evolved a contrivance out of heavy wire which enabled him to wield the bow. Tho matter of fingering was ? moro difficult, but by hard practice he trained the stump of his left hand to make the necessary shifts from one string to another and from position to position. With the fiddle held in place by his chin ind knees and with j the help of his fingerless arms, Claw- j Bon manages to play the obi-time airs with nearly, as much success as for? merly. Tit* Mnflnrn Y?MIHI. "What did your son say when you reproved him for annoying the neigh bor" "He said that thc rebuke was a just rme," said thc melancholy man, "but that the disregard of grammar with which it was administered was greatly to be deplored. "-Washington Star. COST H. O. ARMOUR SI OOO. A l?et Made with a Kepnrtcr Which Watt Promptly Paid. Some years ago a despatch was re ceived by a New York editor from the editor of a Chicago newspaper which had not a reputation for spot lessness, but which frequently pub lished some startling truths. The des patch gave the outlines of a reported Wall Street scheme in which the Ar mours were deeply concerned, and it asked the cooperation of the New York editor in ascertaining the facts. A reporter was assigned to this work and ho called upon thc late H. O. Ar mour, who was in charge of the Ar mour interests in this city. Vv'hen the reporter's errand was slated Mr. Armour was furious. He denounced the story of the . receipt of such a despatch from Chicago as a lie, and the reporter's errand ai part of some malicious stock-jobber's scheme to affect the Armour proper tics. Tba reporter replied that when he said that such a despatch had been received at his office, he meant ex actly what his words indicated; and he requested Mr. Armour again to tell him something about the story the despatch contained, or to say whether that story was false. But Mr. Armour wouldn't do it. He only inveighed against the reporter's chief and repeated that that gentle man had not received any such tele gram. "I'll bet you $1000," Mr. Armour ex claimed, "that your editor cannot show me such a despatch, and you tell him so!" "Mr. Armour," was the reply, "I do not carry $1000 or a check book, but if you will hold that bet open 15 minutes I will go out into the street and rome back here and take it up with cash. It will only be necessary for me to see one of my nearby freinds." Mr. Armour mellowed somewhat af ter looking intently at the reporter for a moment. Then he said: "Your word for it. The bet is good." The reporter went back to the square of the printing houses and recited his experience. He also made a strong request to be permitted to teach Mr. Armour a lesson, as he put it, not by printing anything about his experience, but by showing him the telegram and forcing him to pay the bet. The request was granted, and when Mr. Armour saw the des patch he turned and wrote a check for $1000 forthwith and handed it to the reporter. Then he said that the r1oc-T>n ?-'- ?. . - rgfo ;h? vited to address the convention. Mrs. Griffin, whoso husband is an American, formed the first American women's club in London. The club has become very popular, has attracted widespread attention in England and has had the effect of es,, \blishing a better under standing between English and Ameri can women. Mrs. Griffin told about the formation of the club and its work. She stated that there was some prejudice in Eng land against the American clubwoman, and that she, herself, shared that prej udice to some degree. "The American clubwoman is so ter ribly busy that I often wonder, and so do other people wonder, if she finds any time at all to spend at home," said Mrs. Giiu?n. "I heard a story once which aptly illustrates this fault in the American clubwoman: Three little boys were together and their childish talk finally drifted to the ques tion of where they were born. One lit tle boy said: " T kno- " where I was born. I was born at 3t Washington street and I know where the house is, too.' "And one of the other little boys said: " 'And I know where I was born, too. It was at 50 Pennsylvania avenue, and I can take you right to the house.' "The third little boy hesitated and then finally said: " T don't know where I was born, but I know when I was born. I know there wasn't anybody home at the time but me and grandma, 'cause mother was at the club.' "-Buffalo Commercial. Unela Sani'i? Forage. Over 1000 different species of grass es worth cultivation for forage grow in the United States besides 100 other plants useful for thc same purpose. These and other facts of interest to farmers and land owners form part of a report on the work of the division of agrostology of thc department of agriculture since iti organization in 1S95, just submitted to Secretary Wil son by Prof. P. Lom?on Scribner, the government agrostologist. The report says that of the unoccupied public lands, about 365.400,ii(io acres are now regarded as fit only for grazing pur poses, and in addition there are 124, 300,000 acres of forest land, thc great er portion of which is also used for grazing. From Field work already done, the department ha's been enabled to rec ommend to l'armer'.; and stockmen throughout the country thc forage crops adapted to their conditions and special requirements, and to carry on experimenta with introduced forage plants likely to prove valuable in any particular region. Because they are naiivc. says thc report, many grasses have boen too often not only neglect ed, but abased, and in some cases par tially exterminated. N??i II I'nrnlng Crime. Gladys-Wer:; you alarmed when ho hissed you? Ethel--Dreadfully! Gladys-And did you scream? Ethel-Ol', no! lt was a still alarm!-Puck. Tho Queen of Roumania is a suc rfissful lecturer, as learned as elo quent. THANKSGIVING DAY and the cranberry are one and insep arable in the United States. During the year the cranberrj has as steady a market as the cabbage, but in the month of November the de mand for it is phenomenal, a little less than one-half the year's crop be A YOUTHFUL 'WORKER XH THE FIELD. lng disposed of in the thirty days. This year the total yield is estimated at 1,000,000 bushels, and over 400,000 bushels will be needed for Thanksgiv ing. The cranberry grower is a ?hnrer In the general prosperity of the times, his vines yielding him nearly twice the crop of last year. From Cape Cod, .-,. .:.0.~.mj II, grew wild, as, in fact, it does to-day in several of the States bordering. on the Canada !, line, in the salt marshes of the coast States, in the glades of the Allegha nies, and as far south as Virginia ; and the Carolinas. Unlike the straw-1, berry, the vild cranberry is distinctly . inferior to its cultivated relative. Both grow on a small, hardy shrub, about | six inches in height. The fruit takes , its name from the appearance of the flower, which, just before expanding into perfection, bears a marked resem blance to the neck, head and bill of a crane. Hence the name "craneberry." which usage has made iuto cranberry. Saud and peaty ground form the proper soil, and instead of fertilizing, the grower is obliged to give the vines or bushes liberal coats of sand. The ground must be low, as it is kept under water much of the time. The marsh, or bog, as it is variously termed, is so arranged that any section of it may be flooded at the discretion of the grower, the system of ditches and sluices being the same as those used in irrigating the arid lands of the West. The making of the bog is an expen sive process, involving an expenditure of from $300 to $500 an acre, and an Interim of five years elapses before the yield Is really profitable. After that each year should give a larger return on the investment. No rotatiou of crops is necessary, and the shrubs live and bear and increase endlessly. WINNOWING THE LEAVES AND 8TICKS FROM THE BERRIES. Planting a new section of bog is a simple process. A small handful of twigs is twisted together and thrust deep into the sand. They take root immediately, and within a year put forth new uprights and begin to send out runners. The planting is eigb* or ten inches apart in rows. Grad ually the space between fills up, and lu an old bog the shrubs grow as thick ly as buffalo grass. All they require then is weediug, sanding and flooding. Flooding is necessary not only for the growth of the plant, but to protect it from the early frosts of autumn. It is no unusual sight to see a half hundred pickers at work in one sec tion of a bog, while the adjoining sec tion is under eighteen inches of water. Beneath thc transparent covering the berries are seen, the water only in tensifying their brilliant covering and the deep green of the surrounding leaves. Picking cranberries is a task for nimble fingers. The picker, sitting or kneeling on the damp saud, plunges both hands, with fingers slightly spread, iuto the vines, and with a ?mick movement strips the berries from the stems and tosses them into i pan beside him. When the pan is Siled lt is emptied into a pail holding me-tbird of a bushel. The size is uni form and the pickers are paid by the [)ail. The berries are finally put into :rates holding a bushel each. Before they are ready for market, however, they are winnowed of leaves and weeds, and are ready for the con sumer. The first cranberries come from the ZJape Cod bogs. There picking begins ?arly In September and lasts until se vere fror is put an end to the season. The Long Lslaud and New Jersey ber ries reach the market about two weeks later, or about the middle of Septem ber. In the Middle States and the West the crop is not quite so early. Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Iowa tnd Northern Iowa are cranberry States. The West consumes practical y all its own product, and also a part )f the Eastern yield. The Western berry rarely finds its way into the markets of the East. In the cost States the cranberry is a remarkable favorite, ?ind without It a mere turkey would be considered anything but a piece de resistance on the New England day )f days. New York, New Jersey, Penn sylvania and New England consume more than half the entire annual crop, N'ew York City alone requiring 250,000 bushels a year. For these berries the producer will average a minimum of $5 a barrel. The consumer pays at retail from five -oi. los^^^iage. Sometimes, when the producer catT -affjjrd it, he puts away a large part of filfc-crop, and lets it remain iu storage until the last of December or the middle of January, when, as a rule, thc price idvances. There have been times when cranberries brought .^S and -S10 a bar rel. There is a popular idea that cran jerry growing is a sure road to wealth. A BOO COMPLETELY FLOODED BT WATEB (The plants and bernes are beneath.) One of the sages among growers, Mr. E. L. Brown, of Calverton, Long Isl and, calls cranberries a "young man's crop." This moans that a mau who chooses cranberry farming as a road to affluence must be willing to wait, and to work steadily and with perse verance while he waits. A few years ago a wealthy resident of Detroit, stirred by the glorified accounts of cranberry profits, invested ?,250,000 in an attempt to raise the berries on a large scale. He abandoned his enter prise at the end of the second year, losing almost his entire investment. Profitable as cranberry raising may be, under right conditions, to cultivate the berry successfully means that the grower must often carry a heavy bur den of care and anxiety. So it is sim ple truth to say thar in this year of bountiful harvest, of all the thanks expressed on tho appointed day, those of the mau who grows cranberries will be even greater and more fervent than the appreciation of the thousands who delight their palates with the boon companion of the turkey at the Thanksgiving bo.*n.L the crimson prod uct of the cranberry vine.-Charles Culver Johnson, in Harper's Weekly. A Dense Illinois Fores. There is a tract of laud in T.. sewell County, UL, lying along the Macki naw River, which consists of a < on tinuous series of abrupt and deer ra vines. Not a foot of the tract couldN be cultivated. The ridges are full of fox dens, wolves are oe? atonally found, and turkey buzznuls hover over it in large Hocks. Eveu people familiar with the territory have been lost in the dense forest. Except for a few giant oaks, the wood bas no commercial value. The tract is known as tho "Lost Forty" because no one knows win. owus it. For years it has been used for trading purposes, and many unwary puisons from a dis tance have advanced money upon it aud taken mortgages in various sums, only to receive a questionable title to a worthless piece of laud. On the Tazewell County tax books the "Forty" appears with "Owner un known." The laud is watered by in numerable springs and the Mackinaw Uiver, which wiuds its way through,