' J---..- ' '' ' " ' : _ 1 . ISSUED SEMI-WEEKLT. l. x. oeist'8 sons, PuUishen. } % Jfamilg gewB^tn: Jfor th<[ jpromotion of th{ fjolitiip!, ?oqial, ^griijultur^l and KN>rcKy?<r(M) SYNOPSIS OF THE MIDLANDER3. Aurelie was stolen from the Holy Family Orphanage In New Orleans, when a tiny child, by Uncle Michigan, and taken to the swamps to Master Captain to be brought up to lead the people back to their own?for he was a Confederate who had not surrendered. But he died, so Aurelie and Uncle Mich' started out to see tno world, eventually sailing: up the Mississippi, and landing: at Rome, Iowa, a small town with large ideas of class, caste, and family precedent. Here Aurelie grows up, an elfish, gypsy-like child, scorned and misunderstood by the townspeople; she and Uncle Mich* living In the Pocket Quarry with the Lindstroms. John the father was a fanatic, and after losing his suit, filed for the loss of his arm In a stonecrusber, he became rabid against the laws and the town. Aurelle's only friends were Harlan Van Hart, son of the Judge, and her lover, and Wiley Curran, editor of the News, the weekly paper, a romantic dreamer who shocks everyone with his radical ideas. Wiley Curran sends her pictures to the beauty contest in a Chicago paper, and to everybody's surprise, she wins it. Such publicity and vulgarity shocks the people of Rome. Harlan is incensed, and their love affair is broken off. Receiving offers from theatrl cal managers Aurene goes upon .me stage, horrifying the town the more. CHAPTER XI The Daughter of Jezebel. Holiness university was a square new university with a mansard roof two miles west of Rome on the Earlville road. It was softened a bit by the beautiful campus sloping to Sinsinawa creek, but the plaster of its bricks was as raw as its curriculum, and the bricks were as hard as its faith. It is a forlorn county of Iowa that does not have two universities, three academies, one seminary, and a Chautauqua, for every migration of the early comers brought its own theology and education, from the church of the Hollanders to the Dunkards, and every variety of Protestantism; and each planted ine seea 01 uisjjuie tuiu uieicana, the fat land grew, belabored all classes for support of the spindling institutions. The Holiness brethren were new in the land, but strong of voice and earnest. Calvin university, which was an oblong and flat-roofed university three miles south of town, had long since gone to seed, rarely heard from except on rally days in the churches when all its sixteen faculty and sixty-four undergraduates filled the edifices, and the rally was a tremendous success in hymn-singing if not at the contribution plate. But the Holiness brethren who had come from somewhere, no one knew exactly where, and preached something, no one knew exactly what, had the zeal of the newly-inspired, and labored in highways and byways for recruits. It had a community of quite four hundred souls gathered about its college tract; and fifty students who alternately farmed and studied and exhorted In the streets of Rome and Earlville. No one had a grievance against the Holiness sect except Wiley T. Curran. and his was because they had taken up one of tlie most beautiful spots on Sinsinawa. As Mr. Curran remarked. It was as If some one had first wandered down the pebblyfooted glen and said: "Brethren, here is a spot which nature has set apart for the tired soul to commune in silence and find peace with God?come, let us get a crowd and have somebody lecture." John Lindstrom had become one of the zealous sect from the first; nothing but poverty had kept him from joining the Holiness colony up on the hills, and his lowland cottage was a favorite place for the brethren to gather for prayer. These Sunday afternoons the children sat barelegged and silent on the kitchen chairs, their frayed denims washed, and listened in that perplexed and enigmatical respect that the young give to religion. The first Sunday after Aurelie's prize-winning was a terrifying one. She never would attend the meetings, and the brethren exhorted John that he cast out the devil from her, put away this vanity of beauty, this Romish and heathen perversion. As if Aurelie, loving idolatrously her little crucifix w-ithout bothering her head as to what it meant, could put by God's gift of grace and prettiness. The next Sunday she ran away to the hills and met Uncle Michigan there by arrangement, for the old rebel, eking out the scanty living by his bootlegging, was no more at home with Lindstrom than the Creole girl. When they returned the old man delayed at a neighboring quarryman's house, but Aurelle went on to their door. She found the boys sitting. Sunday clean, on the wood-box behind the stove', and Mrs. Lindstrom, who cared little about the services except to give assent to the master, was putting the baby to bed. She turned a constrained face out of the chamber to see the French girl's entry. Aurelie, wreathed from head to foot in red and gold maple leaves sewed on twine?that was their Sunday occupation upon the bluff, was it? Albert, the canvasser-peddler, washy the oilclothed table, his head resting on his palm, the shiny celluloid cuff with its immense moonstone button enclosing the stringy sinew of his arm. The Holiness exhorting bad tired him, but he was calculating how much of his miserable earnings he could contribute to the family. Before him was some prospectus of a patent-dish-washer ! u ?no CTr.inu- tramn the wiin win*.'" iiv ?LANDERS ?NNEY JACKSON i, My Brother's Keeper, Etc. 11 Company.) John's look, but she was strangely gay She came past the pedler, touching his thin hand lightly. "Mon ami!" she bent her head with quick grace, "you look tired?is it so? You should have ueen wun me?ana ivnuie, uw, ana Peter. The leaves?they never were so pretty!" She crossed to the silent boys, the maple wreaths rustling on her gown. "Eti, Peter! It's all from the big sugar tree where we killed the badger last winter?and you froze your fingers while we were chopping." She lifted the skirt of leaves with her laughing: "Brother, isn't It like a princess on me?" She held herself to be admired by them. Albert put down his documents, his pale eyes shining. This girl! Catholic, French, rebel?God knew what? she stood a flame In the dreariness of their lives! John came in, took off his rough coat and hung It behind the wood-box over the boy's heads. His gaunt face was heavy in the light of the little lamp; he came to stand before Albert, looking down at the pedler's pitiful business. "And what's that on the Lord's day, Albert man?" his deep voice queried. "It's not an example for my children after prayers." The pedler sniveled and smirked concillatingly; they hat! of late begun to fear John's Puritanism. "Eh, the business, John! I was just casting over it for tomorrow. To lay out my route beforehand, that saves a sight of tramping, and it's to be colder." "It's no work for the day," growled John. "Didn't Brother Rutherford just now warn us against such unhollness?" He turned to his sons: "Come, Peter?Knute?it's soon to bed for you. Bring in the kindling and be off." He was not unkindly?he was but a man In whom a wrong was burning its way steadily to a cloistered and spiritual purity; the law's harsh enigma, the murk of his day's jailing?they were to him a martyr's portion; they had set him apart in the world; God had smote him for some reason or other, and he accepted. He sat watching the silent urchins, the mumbling pedler pulling his cuffs down over his thin wrists. The mother passed with the baby, and John put a hand softly to its head, but the rasp of his palm drew a sickly wall. He drew back silently, In some pathos at his failure. When she had gone into the chamber, his eyes slowly went to Aurelle, whom he could see before the mirror of her little white dresser in her room. She was patting the sugar leaves around his shoulders, admiring, reluctant to take them off. "My girl," John called. "Come here." She did not move; he saw her faceharden. "Come here." She turned and looked at him. "Aurelie, I called you, girl." "What is it?" But at his silent gazing she came out obediently. He looked again long at her, the daughter of Jezebel, whose eyes did not fear to meet him. "Where have you ben?" "In the hills.** "Whom did you meet?" "No one. Just Uncle Michigan and me." "I heard this morning?and Brother Andrews told me?that you were on the creek road talking with some one in a red machine?" "Yes?this morning." She did not falter; she was as stolid as he. The McFetrldge motor car, a snorting, grinning, scarlet devil charging, of a Sunday, about the stillness of tne roads?he was ruthless In his analysis, for he knew. "They brought you home from town this morning?but they dared not come to the door." "No," she retorted. "It was just a little ride." "Ah, Lord," the wife cried from the chamber, "the girl, she'll have her name up more than it was! The papers and all?Lord save us! And ridin' with a Jew on Sunday morning!" "Be still," John went on stolidly. "I hear more than that. Girl, can you pray with us all tonight?" "Pray?" "With a clean soul?" She looked at his eyes, the deep eyes of a prophet, and she could not answer; she paled and muttered, and half-turned to look at the little rosary hanging over the frame of her dresser among her trinkets. "I hear," he continued with an awful deliberation as one who had foreordained his judgment and his course, "that you are going on the stage!" She started?she could not imagine that he knew. And yet all the town must know, must he amazed at this freak of the McFetridge twins. "Papa I Lindstrom," she said with a sudden brightness, "will you 'lsten to me? It will be a fine thing for us all?the money I can make!" "Answer!" he shouted, and stung the table with his blow: "the truth!" "Yes," she answered steadily, her eyes going to hard rebellion. "May God strike you dead first!" Knute looked up dumb and shivering. The mother put her head from the bedroom. "Ah, .fohn," she cried, "she's a good girl with.it all, John!" "Be still!" he said. "This beuuty of hers?I'd burn it off h?r if I could." He got up and paced the kitchen, his lined face twitching. "Cleanse her, Lord." he muttered, "put this foul thing from her, Lord!" And from the woman sobbing now in the chamber came a wailing "Amen!" The girl stood in her robe of autumn leaves. "Mother, the money I could earn! And you know how we all need money." John stopped before her: "Hell's money! Harlot's money!" He suddenly grasped her wrist "Eh, this face of yours?if thy right hand offend thee cut it off. What's e\ 11 in God's sight, destroy it!" She repressed a scream at the pain of his clutch, at the murder in his eyes. The wife ran out crying. "Ah, John, let her be! She's a good girl, now a good girl to us all!" But the fanatic held her closer, thrusting her up against the kitchen door among the dusty quarry clothes hung there. "Can I sit and pray God with this unclean rebellion in my house? Unclean?unclean," he thrust her harder against the door?"you will renounce it?tell me!" She looked back: "You don't understand?you don't know anything?" He shook her until her voice choked: "Answer!" "You have no right?" "Answer!" he shouted, and shook her until the house jarred. When he ceased she threw back her small head In Its frame of crushed leaves. "No!" she cried swiftly, and then fought him: "No?nothing!" He suddenly smashed her against the door. Its flimsy fastening gave way and she was hurled out, falling to the porch. They heard her cry, but none moved. For a time they watched L,indstrom, huge, hairy-armed, In the doorway. Then he turned to them: "Go hack." he said to the mute children, the wan wife, "we'll have prayers now." But after prayers the woman stole to look out dumbly into the cold moonlight in the yard. CHAPTER XII The Angels Appear. It was ten o'clock, and, though Sunday, Mr. Curran was running off the last of the handbills for the A. O. U. W. ball, kicking the tread with his foot, inserting the paper with his right hand, and withdrawing it with his left. The rhythm of the press* clank was as exact as this hift of his body as he thought of the day?some day or other?when the News could afford to put in a motor for this drudgery. The curtains were drawn, for it would cost advertising if the church people saw him kicking the press on Sunday night. He hummed an old melody, for Wiley was always happy when he worked, whatever his shift of fortune?it was brain-clearing, and the clank of the old machine always soothed. Up over the dusty front windows he saw the tops of the trees in the square silvered by the moon, and the weather-vane on the county building. Sunday nights the square lay in deep peace?only the Gem Restaurant. "Home Cooking Chicago Style," was lighted, save for the blur of the bank window where an incandescent showed the vault front to Marshal Bee if he chanced to be out of bed. He was distinctly surprised to have Aurelie come in?and yet not surprised; he had a notion that he must have been thinking of her. He rubbed his inky hands on a spoiled handbill and took hers. "Why. Aurelie!" He looked over her dress with Its girdle of sugar leaves. "Been moon-gazing up on Eagle's Point again?" "I ran off," she answered, and sat down with a sigh. He saw a quiver on her features?a grimace as if she wanted to cry and would not. "Seems like nothing but trouble comes of it all, Mr. Curran!" "Ran off?" He smiled. "Not very far, Aurelie; and I'm glad you ran to me!" "Oh, Mr. Curran?don't make a joke of it! Poor little Peter was so scared' I had a quarrel and left everybody? and I'm not going back. And I Just came to you, for you're the only friend I've got." "I hope I am one, anyhow." The editor nodded his young-old head. "Somehow, I expected you'd have trouble. John?when he heard of it." "What hurts me is Uncle Michigan. He can't hardly get about any more. And it will Just kill him." "We'll fix it up, Aurelie. You stay with us here, for a bit, and Uncle Michigan can hobble down. How's the leg?" "The wooden one's all right, hut he's got rheumatism in the other one. Mr. Curran"?she sat forward brightening, and unfolding her hand, dropped a bit of crushed paper on the table?"there's the prize! A check?one hundred dollars!" One hundred dollars! And she had never possessed two in her whole life. The editor sat staring at It. Poor little prize! "It's a shame," muttered Mr. Curran?"they ought to give you a million. But it's just a newspaper graft to work up circulation. Just advertising. Aurelie. They think the glory is enough for you." "I don't want any glory. I want a cork leg?for Uncle Michigan. Like the one in the catalogue Hen McFetridge gave him. Do cork legs cost a hundred dollars?" "I think so. One of those legs that bend and twist and seem as good as a meat one?yes, sir, I'm afraid they do, Aurelle." "You put this check away, Mr. Curran. And I'm a-goin* on the stage and save up my money and buy Uncle Mich the best log there is anywhere. The editor folded up the beauty prize. He put it in his pocketbook with a sigh. "I've not seen so much money in ?I don't know when! It's Just grand of you, Aurelie, to think of Uncle Mich. And so you're really going on the stage?" "I guess so. I'm sick of everything. The letters I get, and all this publicity ?it's just upset me, Mr. Curran. And Harlan, he went away"?she looked off ?"and left me." Mr. Curran sighed. For his life he could not have asked her further, but with an instinct for her underflow of trouble, he knew. Youth was not so far away front him?nay, it was crying In his heart! He wished guiltily she would say more of this amazing summer romance. He loved Harlan as he had loved few. "Sometime I'll tell you." she went on; "but now I just want you to tell me what to do." "About going on the stage?" "Yes." Wiley rubbed his head. What he knew of the stage was not much. "I suppose you must do something. And the McFetridge boys?well, honestly, I think they're straight, down in their hearts. They're pretty near impossible and rough, maybe?but some way, I don't think bad of 'em." Mr. Curran never thought bad of any one, even Old Thad. He was always apologizing for Old Thad to Arne Vance's denunciations. "And I can't blame you, Aurelie"?he looked off above the silent park?'the town's no place for you? perhaps for no one who's young and eager to live." He took her hands and drew them across the desk: "I'm going to take a great responsibility. I'm going to tell you?go." "Yes, I'm glad! I like you, Mr. Curran. You make me feel that you had trouble, too?and weren't afraid, and were misunderstood. And so I'm going!" "That's right. And be a good little girl, Aurelie, and don't let 'em spoil yuu. "And some day I'll come back and play In the tin opera-house!" And they laughed. They went out through the dingy old shop and up the path In the moonlight, he holding her hand, both laughing. She seemed so like himself?he could understand all that she could not say. Aunt Abby listened, and then set them out Banbury tarts and milk. "Dearie?dearie?I'm glad you've come back again?and to us In your trouble. And If you want to go to be an actress and marry millionaires, so there ?go do it, and don't mind what this town says!" Aunt Abby was a vigorous, broad-faced old Philistine and a great cook. Wiley had found her on his wanderings, sitting on the tongue of her prairie schooner, watching a dead mule that she had depended on to take her out of the Dakotas when the chinch-bugs ate the wheat, and she had abandoned her claim. She had kept house for him ever since, fat, decently sixty, and filled with huge chuckles. And the laughter came back to Aurelle's eyes that night, though ,11,1 1(A AmnbA t?Fon,lAi.ln/* nK/xiit .^iic uiu lie anaivc nuuun iiir au*?ui Uncle Michigan?a good thing about wooden legs was that one couldn't get rheumatism in them. "Wiley," grumbled Aunt Abby, when Aurelie was in bed?"that girl is suffering . . . she's terribly in love with somebody!" "Yes," he answered mournfully, puiling off his shoes in the doorway, "I'm afraid so. But she'll get over it?we all do. I have, myself?a dozen times." "Get out?you never got over one of 'em! The accumulation of 'em is what's the matter with you." But when he was in bed, the old lady came in and patted his cheek: "You ought to get married?even if I have to leave you." "I wouldn't?not if you had to leave me?" he answered, "oh, not a bit, aunty!" rr?l A. J _ __ 1 1..1. A 1a i ne nexi aay rie uhjk Aumie uvci iu Earlvllle. Bravely he faced the stares them out Banbury tarts and milk, along High street. As the bob-car Jogged to the Junction, where It connected with the Interurban, the Van Hart surrey drove past them. Mrs. Van Hart was In the rear seat. Aurelle sat back against Wiley's arm and then, conscious that he noticed It, she sat forward very straight and stared full at Harlan's mother. The surrey drove on, the lady composed and with kindly elegance, apparently not seeing them. Aurelle sighed and said nothing, but Wiley guessed her tumult. She was very silent when they were In the tiny office back of the place where tickets were sold at the Majestic, the ornately impressive vaudeville house in Earlvllle, across from the equally ornate Elk's Club. And if you want to see what architects can do in yellow sandstone, see the Earlvllle Elk's club. In Morris Feldman's office, young Mr. Hnnbury, of the Dubuque Register, one time sporting critic, explained his play modestly: "I don't claim this of mine Is nnv world-beater: it'll never see the great white lights, and Frohman will never get the wires hot trying to book ns, hut that's all right. We're after the kush. ain't we, Morris?" "The what?" gasped MIhs Llndstrom. "The coin," corrected Morris Feldman, "the money, Miss Llndstrom." "I ain't saying Belasco'll go nuts when he sees our production," went on the playrlght, "hut we're going to clean up the one-night stands while the public is ripe on you. Ain't I right, Morris?" The gazelle-eyed young Hebrew held a bunch of blue tickets in his teeth while he slipped a rubber band about them and then deposited them In a tin box : "Believe me," he murmured. "And if we ever put over that thirdact situation with you climbing over the mill-dam, Miss Llndstrom, you're made." "nil ?? . neiieve mc, uiiut-u muira, unu here come our angels." Now, Hen and Ben McFetrldge, coming in from a Main street billiard hall, each with a bad cigar and a red necktie, were not exactly of the celestial choir. They crowded into the box office and felicitated, and offered chairs and rubbed hands. "I was telling Morris, here?and Miss IJndstrom, the show's a bird." went on the author genially. "Miss Lilndstrom, I want you to read tne script right away before we get the people together for rehearsals." "But I"?put in Miss Lindstrom flutteringly?"can't act!" "Neither can any of the rest of 'em. All these hot-house stars are traveling on their reps. Acting died with Joe Jefferson. What you do now Is to go around and hand out the bunk, and the rawer it is. the more the public falls for it. And here the biggest paper in Chicago has been handing It out for you, Miss Lindstrom, the warmest line of talk that any actress ever stood for. She's made, ain't she, Morris?" (To he Continued.) ? Reductions in express rates which will cost the companies fully $26,000,000 a year?approximately 16 per cent of their gross revenue?were ordered by the interstate commerce commission yesterday to become effective on or before October 1!>. 1913. Notable reforms in practices also were ordered. The most important change prescribed by the order is by way of modification r\f thn nracant cm rl HQ fori cnalo r?f nnr eel rates. One hundred pound rates for short distances either have been left unchanged or slightly reduced; for longer distances they have been lowered; for "fifty pounds or less all rates have been practically reduced. For packages of more than four pounds going more than 200 miles and less than 2.000. the new express rates are generally lower than the parcel post rates; for more than 3,000 miles the rates are practically the same. The report and order of the commission prepared for Commissioner John H. Mariile, are a virtual affirmation of the findings of former Commissioner Franklin K. Lane, now secretary of the treasury. ^tetttlanMUis grading A STATE MARKET BUREAU Commissioner Watson Working on Plan. Anderson Daily Mall. The chamber of commerce of Anderson wishes the farmers of the county to make dally use of the big black-boards to tell the people of the city of garden truck or other produce for sale. Commissioner. E. J. Watson was greatly pleased with this plan and Is recommending Its adoption everywhere as will be seen from the following article given out from his office recently accompanied by half-tone cuts Illustrating the blackboards: Commissioner Watson of the department of agriculture, announced that he hoped within the next week to make complete announcement as to the perfection of the organization of the new bureau of marketing of the state department of agriculture commerce and Industries. The Idea of the new bureau will be to let every man In the state of South Carolina who wants to buy something and every man who has anything to sell In the way of products of the farm or related to the farm, get the bene fit Immediately of the channel of trade that the state will afford. Practical Plan. In talking about the matter, Mr. Watson said: "All over the United States this problem of marketing is being discussed theoretically but practically every effort I have seen has been based too much upon generalities. General market Information doesn't amount to much. What John Jones living in the upper edge of Pickens county wants to know if he has a surplus of hay or oats or eggs that he can't sell in his own community Is, who wants to buy those very things in a distant community. He wants to know the man's name and he wants to know Just exactly how much of a commodity a man wants, and what is more, he wants to know all this right away. And so the man at the other end wants to know where and from what individual he can buy what he wants and exactly what it is going to cost him. We had a striking case the other day: A man in the Piedmont had been literally wasting large quantities of buttermilk, there was a man away down on the coast who had a great demand for buttermilk; today the man who was throwing his buttermilk away, is getting 40 cents a gallon for it delivered at his own station in the Piedmont and the man on the coast Is getting what he wants. "We have very nearly completed all the arrangements for the inauguration of our bureau of marketing, which I am going to try to make the most practical thing of its kind in this country. It will be run on just as sound business principles as any department store in New York, in other words, on a complete system. These card forms that you see here are to be used; the process will be something like this; A man writes to us that he has such and such a quantity of a given commodity to sell and quotes his price, which can not be changed when listed here for a period of ten days from the date of his notice. We notify him of his registration. Another man writes that he wants such and such a quantity of the same commodity. A card form gives each of the two the other's address and the information that they want. If they complete the transaction, then the man who makes the sale reports the sale to this office on prepared post card form and the commodity that he has listed here is eliminated from our list. A brief glance at the card form will indicate to the public mind how automatically the system will work. Give Information. "The bureau of marketing, of course, does not undertake to make any guarantee of the sale, It merely undertakes to list the information and to become a clearing house for information between buyers and sellers of agricultural commodities. While, primarily, it is desired that individual producers and consumers avail themselves to the fullest of the opportunity offered, this in no sense precludes merchants in towns and cities from availing themselves of the opportunity offered to secure a first-class product fresh and pure, direct from the farm. There is no reason, for instance, why merchants selling ots or'hay should not avail themselves of this channel and secure for market purposes supplies of fresh home-grown goods Instead of bovine sulnhureted oats brought away across the continent from Texas, and mouldy hay brought away from the far west, and so with a thousand other things. Notably, the Immense stocks of canned goods now brought from the west and the east could to the advantage of everybody and to the cause of pure food, be supplemented by the wholesome home canned goods put up by the thousands of girls of our state who are members of the Tomato clubs. Take, for instance, the demand for cream in the ice cream parlors operated throughout the state and the lack of market for cream In the dairies that scores of men in the country are endeavoring to establish. In a word, this whole thing looks to the conduct of business In the state of South Carolina on a fair economic basis and with a greater profit to everybody concerned than most people have ever dreamed of. Anderson Plan. "The other day I went up to Anderson to attend the big 'Trades' day,' meeting under the auspices of the Anderson chamber of commerce. When I walked into the large hall at the chamber of commerce I walked into a revelation. I found the individual marketing idea more fully developed in our undertaking already In practice in so far as one county and as market was concerned. Porter A. Whaley, the secretary, had already conceived an idea of the practicability of the market exchange. When I walked into the hall I found it filled with farmers and farmers' wives and with townspeople. There was no e.id of fine butter and all kinds of agri cultural products, and for the first time in America, on two large blackboards I saw the offerings of the farmers to purchasers listed there with th< prices quoted. I saw on the board where one man wanted 100 bushels oi good corn; he had evidently gol tired of the rotten western stufT. ] saw hairy vetch seed offered for sale at 10 cents per pound; the day Defore I had a half dozen Inquiries af to where hairy vetch seed could be bought; I saw fine alfalfa seed quoted for sale at 161 cents per pound; 1 saw 1,000 bushels of appler oats offered for sale at 60 cents per pound and the samples showed that they were of as fine quality as were ever offered In any market. Then my eye glanced down the board and I saw fine bred pigs offered for sale. Glancing across the board I almost shouted joy when I saw that one man had actually offered ten tons of Bermuda grass hay at $1.26 per hundred pounds. This is the first time I have ever heard of an actual quoted price for one of the finest natural hays that the country produces, the hay made from the grass that our people are eternally fighting all the way from the mountains to the sea, the grass that If handled for hay, would yield a better return per acre than cotton. And actually on the board appeared the modest offer of 300 cans of peaches at 12 cents per can, the owner actually undertaking to compete at this very remarkable low price with the canning houses of the east and west. "I was so struck with this listing of products for sale, most of them appearing in the handwriting of the pro ducer, tnat l maae pnoiosrapna ui the black-boards just as they stood at the time. Of course I don't know how many sales were effected, but there was an Interest on the part of both the producer and the town consumer that bespoke the possibilities of the scheme for the immediate future." TRAINED TO MURDER Assassins Ones Formed A Very Influential Sect. The assassination of King George of Greece recalls the fact that the word itself is derived from a regular order of men pledged to take the life, especially the life of a ruler. The assassin sect was an offshoot of the Shlah form of MohammedanIsm, but Its tenets comprised fragments of magiani8m (of sorcery), Judaism and Christianity, as well as of the teachings of the Koran. It was in some respects not unlike the Druses of Mount Lebanon, with whose outbreaks the name of Lord Dufferin was honorably connected long before he became govorner general of Canada. Its founder, who gave It his name, was Hassan Ben Sabah, chief of the famous mountain fortress of Alamoot In Persia, about 1090. He gathered about him a body of fearless young -?. J?-J Kim on/1 hltrhlv men, pieugea iu uucj un,. w>u trained in various methods of murder. These were dispatched, generally singly, to end wars by killing kings or generals, or to destroy rivals or personal enemies. In order to give them courage for their villainous work, they were taught to make use of haschish, the drug called chang in India, derived from the leaves of the common hemp plant, which is terribly intoxicating. In Arabic they were called haschischln from this fact. These men followed their instructions in every country, as Is shown by the fact that all the European nations have the word in their languages, assassinen in German, assassin in French, aeslno in Spanish, assassino In Portugese and Italian, etc. But they flourished especially in the east, where they also use the terror of their name for blachmaillng purposes. The Knight Templars in the time of Richard Coeur de Lion, fought them openly, the leaders of the crusades having suffered seriously from their designs, and also spreading the knowledge of them and of their leaders, known to them as the "Old Man of the Mountains," throughout Christendom. The Mongols massacred the Persian branch of the order in 1256, and the Sultan Beliars tried to extirpate the Syrian branch in 1270. Neither attack was thoroughly successful, however, and the order Is believed to exist to this day In Persia, and to be not without influence in some eastern affairs. Not even Persia had more horrible assassinations than had France at the time of the revolution, and there was awful rightfulness in the words in which the tvrant Robespierre addressed the national convention, when he was refused permission to make a defense against the fate to which he had consigned so many, and which now threatened him: "President of Assassins," said the deposed ruffian, "for the last time I ask liberty to speak," for by assassins nowadays we mean not members of the sect of that name, -> ?-..111,, llf. dui ti muruercr wuu opiuo mc vivw for any other than a purely personal reason. Things Forbidden in War.?It Is not generally realized that the game of war is hedged around by as many restrictions as a boxing contest under Queensberry rules. These regulations, which are under the sanction of all the civilized countries of the world, are designed to insure fair play for the combatants. When it Is Intended to bombard a place, due notice should be given, so that all women and children may be removed to a place of safety; and every care must be taken to spare churches and hospitals, as well as all charitable or educational buildings. All chaplains, doctors and nurses are protected in every possible way and are not to be taken prisoners or in any way Injured. Any soldier robbing or mutilating an enemy is liable to be shot without trial and death is the penalty for wounding or killing a disabled man. The oodles of the enemy are to be carefully searched before burial, and any articles found on them which might lead to their Identification are to be sent to the proper quarters. I Explosive bullets must not be used, and quarter must be given to the enemy whether he asks for It or not. In an attack on the enemy there must be ; no concealments of the distinctive signs of the regiments, and the use of poisons for polluting drinking water Is strictly forbidden.?Tit-Bits. t PHOICblUNO Uh lULLLttlLO ' Deathleaa Story Recalled by Revolt of the 8wiaa Guards. The Swiss Guards in the Vatican have mutinied and Italian policemen have taken their rifles away from them and are treating them like nannktif little Kaiis VaI?W rl I ffoPon f I uaubiiijr iiliiu uuj oi t m j uiikvi v?i? Swiss these are, evidently, from the Swiss Guards of a century ago, the guards who laid down their lives de! fendlngthe deserted palace of the king ' of France. Through all the smoke drifted, lurid pageant of the French revolution, the scarlet figures of these stalwart Swiss, who knew how to die for a king not their own, loom up, large and heroic In the scheme of things. Black-clad courtiers fled; the king's French troops flung down their muskets in their headlong flight, abandoned cannons, dropping lanyards from their terrified hands; only the Swiss Guards stood like the granite of their own Alps and fought until the seething mob of citizen soldiery closed over them and left them, torn and trampled, staining the corridors of the palace of the Tulleiies with their devoted blood. It was in August, 1792. All the night of August 9, bells rang from the steeples of Paris, summoning men to arms; the black-clad courtiers walking In the gardens of the Tullerles could hear the muffled throb of drums, far off. The night was clear, Orion and the Pleiades calm up above and peaceful, but the fevered heart of Paris leaped up and throbbed. Dim figures scurried through the streets, commanding and countermanding; citizen soldiery was mustered, heard the at tack was to be postponed, disbanded, formed again. All manner of rumors, starting no one knew where, were whispered In the streets and In the palace while the bells called. Up at the palace they said the mob would not come; these alarms were not new ?they buzzed and talked and clapped their dirty hands, but never came. But they did come, In the early morning, thousands of them; the first long level rays of dawn gleamed on steel pikes and gun barrels. Long lines of the citizen soldiery, and after them in eddying side currents of flotsam of hysterical humanity, men and women, armed and unarmed, pushing, thronging, shouting, loud of voice. Their voices made a vast and murmurous roar, like angry waters; one could hear them a great way off. His majesty, fat, stolid, vacillating, knew not what to do; he would do this, now that, and now he would not do at all, but sit in his gilded bedchamber, head in hand, considering a little further. They say the queen put a pistol in his pudgy hand, saying that now or never was the time to show himself; but the king did not come out. At last, after long parley, he went out with the queen to the hall of the assembly; he left by devious back ways the garden of the Tulleries, and when he went out he went out for over. The little prince kicked playfully at some leaves along the path, fallen before their time; there was an ominous significance in those fallen leaves, if you care to look for it. Then a tall grenadier lifts the little prince to his blue shoulder as the crowd grows dense, and the royal family is received into the hall of the assembly. The courtiers fled for the most part when the king had gone; the red Swiss held their place. Nearer and nearer swarmed the mob, led by 300 blackbrowed men of Marseilles, singing the Marseillaise, that most insurrectionary tune thflt ever was written. There was a pause and a parleying, whilst the leaders of the tumultuous Parisian army called on the guards to surrender. But the Swiss stand blocking up the entrances, muskets alert. Their task it is to hold the Tulleries, even though the master of the Tulleries has fled. rpv-"" ?voa/>?fiil hut viarilnnt. A lit 1UC/ Ul V - _ tie handful of foreigners flung down Into the midst of great eevnts that are beyond their understanding, they know but one thing?how to face the foe. A motley mob It was?Westermann, an Alsatian, leading one brigade; in another place the Demoiselle Therolgne. a short-skirted, wasp-waisted Amazon, girt in pistols and saber, shouts shrill commands, and perhaps fancies herself a veritable Jeanne D'Arc, sent to deliver France. Westermann calls on the Swiss to surrender; they refuse, and a moment later three cannons, badly aimed, rattle over the palace roofs, and the Swiss Are a volley in reply. Many of the Marseilles men went down before that volley?In particular "a tall man that was louder than any." The mob recoiled and then came on again, slavering and savage at the sight of blood. Red coats flashed dimly through the wreathing smoke; the Swiss Guards fired by platoon and rolling fire. No less a military expert then Napoleon, who saw them fight that day, declared the red-coated men would have beaten back their toes ana won had they had a commander. As It was they fought blindly, doggedly, without direction, knowing one duty?, to tight as long as they could stand. Then from the hall of the assembly came a messenger from Louis, with a written order, "Cease firing." That meant the end of everything. They stopped, but there was no drawing back now. Scattered and broken, the guardsmen who escaped were hunted down out In the mob, clubbed, beaten, stabbed with pikes. There were others who lay along the stone-paved corridors, where they had fallen, facing the foe, and the mob stripped off its scarlet coats and tore them Into shreds and hung the shreds on pikes. The naked bodies of 180 lay there for two days, and the curious came to gaze. The mob surged through the palace, slaying, plundering; wine casks burst ?nt? hnrrnra tn thP in uy pintra, auucu nv?? iwi>v?w ?v day's madness. Some few of the Swiss Ouard found sanctuary In the hall of the assembly; scattered men were taken In by sane and kindly citizens and given refuge In their homes. But the vast majority of the 900 died that day and died In vain. There Is a monument to the slaughtered Swiss that travelers to Lucerne are always shown. It Is a dying lion cut In the atone above a little pool; in his side a spear is broken off short, and under his great forepaw there lies a shield bearing the lilies of the house of Bourbon. Above the lion carved upon the rock a Latin motto "Helvetlorum Fidel et Virtutl," which being' -j iransiaiea, means to me i?yauy ana Courage of the Swiss."?Kansas City 8tar. FACT8 ABOUT PALMI8TRY Soms 8tartling Revelations That Have Been Made by Linee of the Hand. Most people who have had their hands read by an expert palmist have been filled wjth wonder at the accuracy of the reading, not only in regard to delineation of character, but also to the detailing of events in their past lives and prophecies about the future. Palmistry?or chelrosophy, to call It by Its scientific name?is of great antiquity. In olden times It was looked upon as witchcraft, and it was only surreptitiously that the palmist could practice her art Nowaday*, even, people are only too ready to condemn what they do not understand, and so It Is that we often hear the words "chicanery" and "trickery" applied to what In the opinion of many is entl'led to rank as a science. It Is generally admitted that a man's character and temperament leave their traces upon his face. The bon-vlvant, ttie thinker, the athlete all have distinctive points of physiognomy which indicate the nature of their pursuits and avocations. The votaries of palmistry claim that in the same way as many points of character are displayed In our faces, our history Is writ large on the lines of our hand, and can be read there by the Initialed like an open book. What Is more, not only by the lines of the hand, but by its furrows and folds, by its degree, of hardness or softness, can a person's habits, character, and his social position be told. It Is a curious thing that no two hands are found with similar markings. This Is the reason why linger prints are so efficacious In the detection of crime. The lines on our hands we have from our birth. It Is a mistake to think that they are caused by manual work. In fact, as a rule, the working classes have fewer lines on their palms than the "idle rich." On the hand the lines are effected by mental causes, and can be developed to a considerable extent by mental exercise. In lunatics, as a rule, the lines on the palm are uncertain and indistinct. Selfish people, whose one aim Is the gratification of their own needs, and who are little Impressed by the worries of those near and dear to them, show, aa a rule, very few of the finer lints on their palms. There is no doubt that a great deal of one's life history can be read by the hand, for great events and happenings leave indelible marks upon it Quite recently a skeptic in regard to palmistry was induced to consult a famous palmist. He did so in a spirit of derision. but his attitude was soon changed to one of awed surprise. The palmist detailed events In his life which were known to himself alone. He had spent ten years of his youth in America. There he had married unhappily and divorced his wife. When he returned to England he determined to look upon that part of hia life aa a cloaed book, and so hla friends over here, without exception, were ignorant of the fact that he had ever married. The palmist not only read about his marriage in his hand, but gave tha exact year in which it took place, the events which led up to it, and those which led to Its dissolution. After this striking demonstration of the art of palmistry, the skeptic was constrained to admit that "there was a great deal in it, after *11." It is claimed by those who study palmistry that present and future events are portrayed on the lines of the hand In the same way as the past A man's or woman's fate, the length of his or her life, whether happiness or unhappiness will come, whether he or she will be afflicted with illness or enjoy good health, success or failure- In love, ambitions or the amassing Of wealth, whether friends will be false or true?all can be foretold. Guidance can be given also as to the right or wrong course to pursue in certain circumstances. Parents can be given excellent advice in regard to the best career for their sons to adopt, and 1 in which walk of life they would be most likely to be successful. There are many striking Instances on record of the fulfillment of the' future as foretold by the palmist. Of these perhaps the following authentic rase is the most striking of ail: About four years ago two lhdles, more from a spirit of diversion ,than from any other reason, determined to consult a well-known palmist in London. The first lady was thunderstruck by the accurate reading given of ber past. She was promised a happy future also, and the palmist foretold many events which have since come true. ? The past of the second lady was read also, but the palmist refrained from * saying anything about . her future. When asked why she did not prophesy in regard to this she replied: "I can see no future in your hand." Barely ten minutes afterward the lady, whose hand portrayed no future, was run over and killed by a motor omnibus when crossing the Strand! Such tragic prophecies happily, us a rule, are few and far between. Few hand-readers will consent to actually prophesy any probable disaster they may read on the hand of the subject, for they realize that such a prophecy is apt to tell considerably upon the subject's nerves, and it is a well-known fact that one can often fret oneself Into a trouble which could be otherwise avoided. In many Instances, however, the palmist, while foretelling danger, has told how it could be avoided, and advised a certain course of action to follow In certain circumstances, which advice, when adopted, has had excellent results. Facts have Deen given aiau in icgtuu to the trustworthiness of friends, and the machinations of enemies, which in almost every case have proved correct.?Tit-Bits. Terrible.?"Daughter and her beau must have had a terrible quarrel!" "Why so, ma?" "Five pounds of candy, a bunch of roses, and two matinee tickets have Just arrived."?Judge. *3" It is the man of many parts who sometimes goes all to pieces. tsr The fellow who begins to explain his mistakes won't have much time left to make any more.