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THE WID( *! WL i ? ?? Ada Winter stood on her little back I porch hanging up the dish towels to dry and talking to Mrs. Bellamy, who had run across for a moment's chat. Mrs. Bellamy was a thin, bow-backed woman, who could stand like a post while other women's feet gave out under them. She had trained herself to stand, for her mornings were spent mainly at some other back door than her own. She always was just going yet never went. Ada Winter had found that out before she had lived in the neighborhood a week. She was Mrs. ^ Bellamy's next door neighbor, and it had not taken them long to get acquainted. - "The milk is something awful," Mrs. Bellamy said. "It either sours over night or else there ain't enough cream on it to grease a cat's whiskers. I'm so plagued with it I don't know what to do." "t'H lllra aao mvs?lf DSVlng out r'good money for a poor article," Ada said as she sat down comfortably on the steps. "The milk I've had so far has been pretty good. At least, I've had no cause to complain." Mrs. Bellamy sighed. 'That's him! He always starts in good. But you'll And out he won't keep It up. He's smart, as lightning. And he's just got rich off us poor folks." "Who is he?" demanded Ada. She was beginning to feel interested, espe* dally since Mrs. Bellamy's complaint was not the first she had heard. "Why didn't you ever hear of Laban Lambert? He's got the best dairy farms in this section, besides being a % stockholder in the bank and owning a string of houses here in town. He's rich and he's earned every penny himself. He's an old bach and his sister keeps house for him. They ain't a widow or old maid in the country that ain't run ufter him some time or other, but he ain't the marrying kind. Too stingy to support a wife, I suppose. Everybody knows he nigs 'em on the milk, but they keep on buying of him Just the same. There's Han^ nah Hess, t'other side of you. She wouldn't dare speak up to him if he sold her chalk and water, 'cause she's got her eye on him. And Mauda Moore's just as bad. And Stella Armstrong.. And them that ain't got an ^ eye on him owes him great long milk bills." She tried to look unconscious. "Well. I guess I better be stepping home." Ada Winter laughed as she rose. "All right. Mrs. Bellamy. We'll meet again." Entering her house she went in to 41 the living room and took the big chair at the front window. It was almost milkman, and she wanted to see what happened when he.came. Ada Winter had been a widow three ? years. She was 42, and her husband had been eight years older. He had left her a farm and money enough to live upon comfortably. She had no children, and after he went she found the farm very lonely, so she rented it and moved into town. She was not pretty, but she was sweet and very wholesome looking. She had color in her cheeks and a sparkle in her blue eyes. In her low necked, short-sleeved blue chambray frock she looked a thing of gentleness and timidity. Far up the street a bell jangled and the yellow milk cart, lumbering in the wake of a massive brown horse, came into view. At the Moore gate Manda was waiting with her empty milk bottle and a ticket. But the man who stepped out of the milk cart was no Barkis. His keen black eyes saw the empty milk bottle rather than Manda. Inside of fifteen seconds he had left Manda with three pints of indifferent JP milk and passed on to Stella Armstrong's. Stella was a widow, and she ivh? waiting. But Mr. Lambert tarried barely ten seconds with her. Then he crossed over to Hannah Hess'. Hannah bounced out of her door with & every assurance that she had been waiting, but. though she tittered her liveliest. Mr. Lambert paid her no heed. He was now due to Ada's. She leaned forward curiously. Her milk bottle, holding a ticket, set on the front steps. She did not consider it necessary to present it to Mr. Lambert personally. After he had left the milk and gone on she rose and went to get k it. For the first time the printed top was turned wrong side up. Ada was fair, if very decided. She believed in giving everybody the chance she would under the same circumstances like for herself. She said f to herself that she would let the milk be its own Judge. It had been very good so far, but then the label had always been the other way. Mrs. Bellamy said that he carried two labels, just as he carried two grades of milk. She knew what was under the one label. She would now discover what was under the other. She set the milk away. Before night ? it was sour and no cream had risen upon it. She had ceased to be a new and doubtful customer. He was sure of her now and he was dealing out to her the same quality of milk he imposed upon her neighbors. Ada had no milk for her tea that nignt, ana every sip she took established her in the belief that it was her business to work a reform. "I may be a widow," thought Ada, and her blue eyes were all sparkle, "but I'm no old maid. And I'm not seeking a husband. Mr. Lumbert is going to know what I think of him before another day is over." Next morning she was waiting for him. When his bell jangled before her door she ran out quickly. Manda Moore was at her gate. Mrs. Armstrong at hers. Hannah Hess on her porch?all his secret adorers, even Mrs. Bellamy, who simpered before him because she owed him a bill she could not pay. saw Ada start toward him. She knew that they thought: "There, she's after him quick as this!" and the knowledge lent her extra vim. Mr. I^ambert looked up and saw her and instantly assumed the smile and suavity of demeanor which was calculated to appease any amount of wrath. "Good morning. Mrs. Winter," he P said, pleasantly. , "Good morning!" Ada returned. "Mr. Lambert. I've come to have a little plain talk with you." She sat down on the steps and looked him full in the eyes. Her manner said plainly that she was going to take her own time )W NTER 1 : for her plafn'talk. "I'm afraid you I don't know what frightfully poor milk you're selling. The bottle I got yes- < terday soured before night. Here it t is." She drew it from behind her apron and held it up before him. "You t see, there's no cream on it, besides its being sour. Now tell me frankly, Mr. I Lambert, would you pay eftght cents a 1 quart for milk like that?" 1 Her blue eyes were very disconcert- ? ing. Mr. Lambert turned red and t siammered before them. "Well?no," 1 he admitted. Then he braced himself. < T*TI k..? tkAMA1!. ( "I'm sorry, airs, rvuuci, uui wico been a mistake. It shan't happen again, I promise you." "That's very kind of you, Mr. Lambert, but you see when you have such milk in your cart somebody's bound to get it. And it might just as well be I as somebody who can't afford it so well. I've been thinking this matter over very carefully, Mr. Lambert. I understand thaL-it's serious business for a licensed milk dealer to sell milk that isn't what he claims it is. I'd hate to see you get in trouble, Mr. Lambert. But I feel I ought to do something in my own behalf, since I've got to have milk each day." She paused very gently. He was pale now and all the suavity had fled. His black eyes met hers defiantly. "Well," he said tersely, "speak out. What are you going to do about it?" She stood up, and, though she was not so tall as he, yet she seemed taller at that moment. "Why," she said smiling. "I'm going to send this bottle of milk to be tested and then Im going to see what the law's got to say about a rich man like you with a dairy of blooded cows selling stuff like this for honest, unadulterated milk to people that can't afford to pay for it." She turned away. He came up the steps after her at a bound. "See here. Mrs. Winter," he said, "I know when I'm caught. You're * smart and I've no doubt you'll do what you say. But I want to tell you that you're the first woman I ever found who knew good milk from poor. When a man's got a lot of fools to deal with It's a temptation not to cheat them. I've been playing a risky game and I've got caught. I'll own up. That's 1 the best I can do, ain't it?" t Ada measured him coolly. i "No," she said, "you can throw out 2 that pig slop and go home and fill your t cart with decent milk. You've got it a to sell. You won't lose anything by I selling good milk, but I want to tell you right now it's going hard with you t If you sell any more stuff like that a you've been handing out to me and the c folks around here." > With this she went into the house 8 and shut the door. He stood a mo- * ment staring at the door, then he kick- 8 ec Su apple on the walk and picked up 8 the empty milk bottle. But he didn't, c leave her any milk that morning. The J next morning the milk was excellent, 1 and similiar milk, it seemed, was left all along the street. Two weeks passed and Ada, though she Investigated carefully, heard no complaint. Then one morning a knock sounded upon her door and when she went to answer it she found Laban Lambert. "Good morning, Mrs. Winter," he said. "How's the milk?" "Fine, Mr. Lambert, just what you claim it is. And I know good milk when I see it. It's all right." And then she let him see that there was nothing more to be said. It was not long before Ada realized that Laban Lambert was attracted by her. He always was getting In her way at church. At first she felt amused, then interested, for, after all, any woman's heart softens towards the man who woos her. One day he said to her earnestly: "I know you think me a pretty poor sort of a man, but let me tell you if I'd known vou sooner, or anyone like you * maybe I'd be different. You see, I was trained to snatch money. I was taught that any game was fair so long as I won it. I've always played hard to win. I'm playing hard now to win , you, but I can see the odds are all ^ against me." "Yes, they are," admitted Ada. "Your standard of living is very different from mine. I was taught to remember that there always was the other fellow, and he wanted a show same as I. I don't know, Mr. Lambert, if I thought you wasn't too old or too set in your way to start it over again I might " "They say you're going to marry Laban Lambert," said Mrs. Bellamy to Ada, who was training her honeysuckle vines over a trellis. IN THE CHICKEN YARD Some Valuable Hints on Poultry Raiting. Select a location that has natural drainage away from the building. A dry, porous soil, such as sand or < gravelly loam, is preferable to a clay soil. ; In most localities the building ] should face the south, as this insures the greatest amount of sunlight dur- i ing the winter. ( Allow at least 2 square feet of floor i space per bird. i Proper ventilation and sunlight < mean a dry house and healthy birds. i The partial open-front house is con- ( ceded to be the best type for most *i sections. i The colony plan of housing poultry i may be adopted to good advantage on many farms. This system does away with the danger of tainted soil. The roosts should be built on the same level, 2 feet 6 inches from the ; floor, with a, dropping board about 8 ; inches below them. Good roosts may be made of 2 by 2 inch material with upper edges round- i ed. The nests may be placed on the side walls or under the dropping boards. It is best to have them darkened, as the hens prefer a secluded place in which to lay. In order to obtain eggs it is necessary to have healthy, vigorous stock, properly fed. Nature provides?Worms and bugs, seeds, greens, grit, water. Scientific classification?Nitrogenous material or protein, non-nitrogenous, succulents, mineral matter, water. Poultrymen feed?Eggs, meat (green cut bone or beef scrap), milk or cottage cheese: wheat, oats, com, Darley, etc.; lettuce, cabbage, kale, mangels, alfalfa, clover, sprouted oats, etc.; grit and oyster shell; water. A splendid mixture for laying hens is equal parts of cracked corn, wheat and oats, which should be scattered in the litter. Bran or middlings and beef scraps should be kept in receptacles to which the fowls have access at all times. Plenty of exercise increases the egg yield. Provide 4 or 5 inches of good, clean litter in which to scatter the grain. Cabbages, mangels, potatoes, sprouted oats, etc., make excellent green eed. When wet mashes are fed, be sure :hey are crumbly and not sticky. For the first three days chicks may \e fed a mixture of eaual Darts hard >oiled eggs and stale bread, or stale >read soaked in milk. When bread and nllk are used, care should be exercised o squeeze all milk out of the bread. ?Yom the third or fourth day until the jhicks can eat wheat and cracked :orn, commercial chick feed is a good -ation. Plenty of pure, fresh water, grit, ihell and green feed should be availible from the first day. . There is very little danger of overeeding young stock. Peed the chickens about five times laJly, and only what they will eat up dean in a few minutes, except at light, when they should receive all hey want. Infertile. eggs are produced by hens laving no male birds with them. Removing the male bird has no inluence 09. the number of eggs laid by he hens. The hen's greatest profit-producing >eriod is the first and second years, ind unless a hen is an exceptionally rood breeder she should be disposed if at the end of her second laying seaion and before starting to molt. Few eggs can be expected until the >ullet8 are matured. If possible, mark the gullets that lay n the fall, and use them in the breed ng pen tor the following spring. Soft-shelled eggs are often caused by owls being confined, becoming overat and from lack of mineral matter. Uniform products command the best >rices. Pure-bred fowls produce uniorm products. Begin marketing the cockerels as loon as they weight lj pounds or atain a marketable weight. VAGARIES OF LENT Vhy Easter May Come as Early as March 22 or as Late as April 25. Lent begins this year three weeks ater than last year, being, of course, (ased upon the date of Easter, which s April 12, this year, as against March 13, in 1913. Very few people can tell vhy Lent varies so from year to year, md why Easter may come as early as (larch 22 or as late as April 25. It is something of an anomaly from he religious point of view that the inniversary or Christ's deatn may iau >n any one of 35 dates, while the anniversary of His birth is always on the tame. It is no less of an anomaly from he astronomical standpoint, for there teems no reason why we, having idopted the solar year as the basis of tur calendar, should cling to the lunar vear merely for the establishment of tne date. It is a mystery why, when the date >f Christ's birth was fixed as Decern>er 25, some dates in April were not it the same time settled upon as those >f His death and resurrection. That vould have been logical and would lave banished from the calendar a lular circle that has long been abandon>d by all civilized peoples. It should not be difficult to fix the -ational date for Easter. If Christ was irucifled on the 14th day of the March noon astronomers ought to be able to 'alculate on whate date this fell. They lay that in all probability it fell on ^pril 7, of the year 30 of the Christian >ra. Why, then, not fix Easter once ind for all as the first Sunday after Vpril 7? It is to the Council of Nlcea that we >we the perpetuation of our anachronstic method of reckoning Easter. This council decreed that it should be the Irst Sunday after the first full moon hat occurs after the vernal equinox, March 21. Pope Gregory XIII. underook at that time to reform the Julian :alendar, which had been in use ever ?ince Julius Caesar, in 46 B. C., had described that a year should consist >f 365 days, every fourth year having 166. This Julian calendar was a re'orm of a still more ancient system :>ased upon the motions of the moon, vhich system varied widely in different lands. In Rome, it had originated vith Romulus, who established a year )f 10 months, having alternately 31 ind 30 days, making 304 days in all. Numa Pompilius added the months of February and January, and in the ^ear 452 B. C.. the Decemvirs placed .hem where they now stand. When Pope Gregory undertook to -eform the Julian calendar, that had Dy that time become incorrect by ibout ten days, the revolution of the - ~ *? ?? ^ * V\r? nil n Tim e nrvf fill ciII11 aruuuu Uic oun nao Iivv JW 4V. ly understood, so instead of making a change that would be thoroughly scientific, the present form of year was adopted, the Julian calendar being modified by calling October 5, 1582, October 15, and by making all terminal years of centuries, 1700, 1800, 1900, etc. common years of 365 days, except when the year was a multiple of 400, as 1600, 2,000, etc., which should be leap years. In those days they were so accustomed to movable feasts that it never occurred to the reformers of the calendar that a day might come when their movability should be inconvenient. They knew so little about the relations between the sun and the earth that they did not want to renounce the lunar year entirely and so upset the order of feast days that had from time immemorial been based upon the movements of the moon. Though the Gregorian calendar was issued in 1582, prejudice against anything that came from Rome was so strong in England that it was not adopted there until by act of Parliament, passed in 1751, September 3, 1752, was reckoned as September 14, and New-Year's day was set back from March 25, to January 1, beginning with 1753. To fix one definite date for Easter would require a decree from the pope. The whole Roman Catholic world and all Roman Catholics elsewhere would at once adopt it, and there is little doubt that the Protestant churches would follow. As it is a purely religious feast, this is all that would be necessary. * In Russia and Greece the Julian calendar is still in use, so their dates are now 12 days different from ours.? New York World. | SITTING BULL | ^ Had Another Clain ^ ..... Being a Ga< History has shed a false light around Sitting Bull, the Sioux Indian chieftain. It has made of him a warrior; a red Mars who led his naked savages with the dash of a Murat and evaded disastrous battles with all the ingenuity of Fablus. But that is not the real Sitting Bull. It is a red and yellow and vIvM imnrpssinnlsm it should be a drab in monochrome. Sitting Bull was a politician. Sitting Bull began his career as a fighter. It is recorded that while a boy of 10 he killed a bison. When only 14, he and five or six grown companlons murdered three Crow Indians. For this heroic exploit, the young Indian, then known as Jumping Badger, was renamed Sitting Bull,' after his father. And henceforth he remained true to the change; from a Jumper he became a sitter. When about legal age, as the white man reckons it, Sitting Bull retired from war-like arts and began "making medicine." He entered politics. He was astute enough to see that the medicine men had all the power in his tribe, while the warriors took all .he risks, seeming well paid by a few brief days of glory. He was now, one might say, a wardman in the Sioux "invisible government." Sitting Bull soon rose to he the most powerful of the medicine men. He was a tall, 8tern-vlzaged man, "is* ideal Indian in physiognomy. The tribal pa tronage became his. He fasted, prayed and performed mysterious rites to increase his hold on the nation. Instead of a sewer contract he gave his favorites the privilege of steeling horses. Supporters were brought into line through superstition, thus keeping all the money, and its equivalent, in the organization treasury. But it must not be concluded that Sitting Bull was without ability. He represented the tribe in its dealings with the government and showed ciualities approaching real statesmanship. He obtained a treaty that gave the Sioux Indians more liberty than any others in America. He discarded the titles of chief and medicine man. He was "man." he said. The ceremonies preceding battles were conducted by him. He even made rude Dians to govern the warriors in their fights. But he did not unsheath his tomahawk. Instead, he retired to the medicine house and there, while: his followers were at war, he prayed and forecasted victory. If victory came "his medicine" was the cause; if defeat, the warriors had listened to the bad spirits instead of the medicine. Nothing could be simpler than a. system like that. And Sitting Bull worked it. Soon Sitting Bull gathered around him a formidable array of lieutenant! to perform his various tasks. There was Gall, a really magnificent warrior, a man who fought with ail the bravery and coolness of the Norsemen; Running Antelope, an orator of silver tongued persuasiveness; Crazy Horse, a satellite who made "small medicine" ""A nornnflroq nil nhont Bitting aiuunu kill; vk**i*|/??* V, Bull's greatness, and Rain-in-the-Face a fighter and Implacable enemy of the white man. The organization became despotic in its power, but Sitting Bull, a far-sighted politician, was careful not to check the reins too much, nor was he chary with such favors and privileges as Indians enjoy. Until gold was discovered in the Black Hills Sitting Bull was on friendly terms with the whites. Under the treaty made in 1868 no white man could enter the Sioux territory without consent of the Indians. So they had plenty of hunting and fishing ground and no occasion to raid and slay any except members of other Indian tribes. But with the discovery of gold white men poured into the Sioux territory. They protested. The white miners asked the government to remove them. That was tried, but Sitting Bull refused to go. "This is what we say to you," he replied to the spokesman of a commission. "We will kill any white man who is found in our country without having asked our permission?as it is said in the treaty you are trying to break." The Indians made good their threat. Small parties of whites disappeared. Two army officers were killed. A small | detachment of soldiers was attacked. Sitting Bull, meanwhile, had retired to the hills ana was maxing meuiuur that would wipe the whites from the | earth. Gall and Raln-ln-the-Face were the generals in the field. This intermittent and guerrilla warfare went on until 1876, when the government decided to campaign against Sitting Bull and his followers. Three columns of soldiers marched. Gall, Lone Bull, Rain-in-the-Face and Crazy Horse, the four fighting chiefs, met the three columns one at a time and defeated them. The last battle was with Custer's command, which resulted in the massacre of Little Big Horn. General Crook and General Terry escaped with heavy losses. Sitting Bull now returned from his fasting and assumed all credit for the victories. Only Gall was inclined to dispute him. Sitting Bull replied haughtily that medicine was more important than shooting in fighting the whites and cited as proof the fact that never before had the Indians been so successful. Rain-in-the-Face, speaking of the battle afterward, said, "then Sitting Bull went away to make more medicine and didn't come back till the fight was over.'' Sitting Bull, his power now immeasurably increased, became haughty and domineering. He addressed insulting notes to the commandants of various forts. He caused Indians who were lukewarm in their support to be tor tured, driven out of camp and even killed. But he was afraid of Gall, who once or twice openly denounced him. In a short time General Miles met Sitting Bull's followers and defeated them. Two thousand surrendered. Sitting Bull, when the news was brought to the medicine house, where he was praying, went into a frenzy. His pride had disregarded the medicine he declared. Had they fought longer success would have come. Some Indians, especially the more prominent ones, remained with Sitting Bull. He tied to Canada with them and from that vantage point conducted a series of conferences with the United States authorities. He stood resolute in his demands that the original treaty should be respected. He A POLITICIAN j ' { i To Fame Besides ? I iat Warrior ^ CVXKIO O i often declared that he would never become an agency Indian. Gall, mean wane, oeuviiiu mure miu uiurv uikuutented. Finally Oall determined to break away. He assembled about twenty families of insurgents and planned to steal away from Sitting Bull's camp and surrender to the United States. The plan was discovered and Sitting Bull denounced Oall. That intrepid warrior decided upon a bold play. He Jumped on a platform in the village and called upon all to choose between him and Sitting Bull. Nearly -two thirds of the population went with Gall. Sitting Bull's popularity now sank to its lowest ebb. Every day a few followers left: him. He was In despair when he saw a chance to reinstate himself in power. A young Indian in Montana was acquiring considerable notoriety then by announcing that the second coming of the Mossiah would mean freedom for the Indiana Sitting Bull decided to use this as a lever to regain hiu prestige. He became an agency Indian and then retired to the hills to fati} and pray. In a few weeks gaunt and haggard, he returmkl and announced a vision. Elaborate ceremonies were held and from 2,000 to 3,000 Indians moved their tepees near his lodge His word became law again. The government decided to arv rest him as a means of preventing trouble. He resisted a detail of Indian police and in the resultant melee Sitting Bull was killed by a revolver shot from the hand of one of his own tribesmen who had followed Gall and become a member of the Indian police force.?Kansas Cfty Star. QUALITY OF GREEK VALOR Remarkable Military Work Against the Bulgarians. The first systematic account of the campaign of July, 1913, in which the Greeks fought their way in less than a month from Saloniki to the top of the mountain divide shutting in Soda reveals facts that make one feel the original surprise of their Immense success all over again, says the New York Evening Sun. There are points in the matter collected .telling of the Gre?k exploits trhlch seem in some ways more remarkable even than the brilliant array of results which the news dispatches of July recorded for the Hellenic arms. The brevity of this great militan explot was one of its most striking features from the start. But now that we are informed of the formidable nature of the Bulgarian resistance, the Greeks' pace in covering tne contested territory appears more startling than before. The distance covered was about 80 miles in an air iine?almost exactly the distance from Washington to" Richmond, which took the Union army four years to travel. Over an infinitely harder country of mountain defiles and swamps, with few practicable roads and no navigable rivers, the gain was made in four weeks by 120,000 Greeks, opposed by no less than 160,000 Bulgarians, veterans and supposedly therefore the best fighters in the Balkans. The numbers engaged are testified to by Albert Hi Trapmann, an accredited correspondent with the Greek army, writing In the Nineteenth Century Magazine. While admittedly a hearty sympathizer with the Greeks, this writer presents such statements as make it impossible to doubt the invincible qualities displayed by the Greeks in the field. One of the salient facts about the Trapmann account is that it reports not a single lost battle for the victors. Though t:he Greeks fought their opponents wherever and whenever they found them, and though they on certain occasions were almost annihilated by superior numbers, they never fail J ?- - ? ?o + Via t'U IU Will U anisic: IICIU ou &ai ao luv. writer informs us. Even at DJumala, the last serious battle preceding the armistice, where the Greek Sixth Division was cut down to a remnant of 2,000 eirectives, the Bulgarians were driven and left 10,000 dead on the Held. Numbers seem to have meant nothing to the Greeks. They were equally independent of their artillery supports. They freely sacrificed lives by the thousands, notably before Guevgheli and Kilkis, where they charged across artillery-swept spaces without waiting for their own guns to silence the carefully posted pieces defending the ground. The Greek artillery Itself instead of going through the preliminary of silencing the opposing fire, rushed forward close to the infantry and poured In its shot at the closest possible range. In all mutters of tuctics the Greek army has, as is well known, been the pupil for several years past of a French military mission, headed by Gen. Ky UOUX. 11 IS a iuir uaauiujstii'ji iucitfore that both infantry and artillery when they adopted these novel turtles were playing true to their training form rather than Improvising. If this be the ease the French have apparently originated a new tactical system of attack by the combined infantry and artillery arms, peculiarly adapted to the contemporary French "snapshot" artillery method and the new French Held piece, all of which were in use in the Greek army. Mr. Trapmann recognizes that the stupendous success of the Greeks? the conquest of 6,000 square miles of rugged territory, with altitudes running clear up to 7,000 feet, from a veteran and superior force, with the infliction of perhaps 30,000 casualties, the capture of 12,000 prisoners and 120 guns, al! in four weeks?was due lo the happy coincidence of an aggressive training and an aggressive spirit. It has long been known that the French military system Is peculiarly designed for spirited and aggressive work, and that it requires eager troops to make it go?men filled with the ardor that imparts an extraordinary energy quite exceeding men's everyday powers. Greek instinctive feeling guessed which military system was most suited to the national temperament, or else Greek intelligence attained the conclusion. French methods are abundantly proved the most successful with the Greek soldier. But there was in the late campaign an inspiration that raised the martial spirit so long ' "dormant In the Greek to a peculiar ) height and made the aggressive methi od all the more deudly. , "I have seen a non-commissioned officer," writes Mr. Trapmann, "with i a great fragment of common shell through his lungs, run forward for several hundred yards, vomiting blood but still encouraging his men." Again, speaking of the first day's advance: "The Greek troops were in far too high a state of spiritual excitation to require food, even if food had been able to keep pace with their lightning advance." And he tells whut it was in his opinion that hardened the gentle. mKd and far from truculent Greeks ot ordinary life into men of unbounded will power, ready for any sacrifice. Bulgarian massacres did it, he insists. The righteous anger that sprang up in the heart of the soldiery of Greece at the news of Seres, Nigrlta, Drama, Doxat tempered its metal into something sterner than can well be realized. The men were keen with the sense of outrages to be punished, and they were indignant in the knowledge that the Bulgarians had deliberately broken faith with them, trying to ov- , erwhelm them without warning, bytreachery. Whether the necessarily one-sided views of a correspondent can be taken at face value, and whether his estimates of the opposing numbers are correct, and whether he gives sufficient credit to the co-operation of the Servians In the Greek advance matters comparatively little. At the minimum estimate the Greek campaign, so late to receive proper recognition. . affords us some wonderful modern in- , stances of the power of earnest resolution, combined with skill and system ( In arms; examples more remarkable ( and surely more authentic than those ] purveyed by Lieutenant Wagner. RECALLS KRAKATOA Features of the Earth's Greatest Throe * in Hietoric Times. Besides recalling the phenomenal disruption of Pelee comparatively recently, the eruption of volcano Saku rashima is a reminder 'of the Krakotoa volcanic upheaval in August, 1883, which was by far the earth's mpst tre- 1 mendous throe within historic times. Men of science made a study of its manifestations and effects and their 1 conclusions gave it the place of the 1 greatest physical disturbance of which 1 the history of the earth tells. Krakatoa was a volcano in the Sun- 1 da Strait, between Java and Sumatra. 1 It was a peak thrown up by an even greater eruption in prehistoric times. 1 Its apex was about 2,600 feet above sea level. The island was not* inhabit- 1 ed. After warning manifestations for 1 several days, the outburst came on 1 August 27, 1883. The whole of the 1 northern part of the island was blown ' away, and where it had been there 1 was a depth of water of more than 1,- ( 000 feet. A nearby volcanic mountain, ' KaKato, was spin tuunuvr, it?cami8 a vertical cliff that showed a section of the interior structure of that volca- 1 no. ( It was estimated by scientific men J that the column of stones, dust and 1 ashes thrown up by Krakatoa shot up ' to a height of seventeen miles. Nearby ! islands were buried in the ashes so deeply that their forests were hidden. I The dust particles in the upper strata spread through a large part of the at- ' mosphere enveloping the earth. They ' travelled the fastest in the equatorial 1 zone between latitude 30 north and 45 ' south, and in this belt they encircled 1 the globe within about seventy-five 1 days. The dust spread later north and * south, until it covered the eastern ' hemisphere from northern Scandina- 1 via to the Cape of Good Hope. ' In this western hemisphere the presence of the dust from Krakatoa was ' noted by scientists some four or five months alter the upheaval. From 1 about the latitude of northern Florida 1 to several hundred miles south of the equator there was a deep, red glow in the sky after sunset. It resembled somewhat the zodiacal light, but it extended much further, almost across 1 the western horizon. The dust that immediately arose from the explosion darkened the sky ' at Batavla, 100 miles away, so that 1 lamps were lighted at midday. The 1 pumice that floated on the sea cover- 1 ed its surface for hundreds of miles. The atmospheric disturbance was 1 worldwide. The upheaval started the biggest ' spread of sea waves of which there is 1 any account. They were of two kinds 1 ?long waves of which the periods between them were more than an hour, 1 and short but high waves that rose in some places to a height of fifty feet or more. The longer waves were noted when they reached Cape Horn, nearly 8,000 miles distant, and the scientists who made a study of the matter thought these waves were perceptible in the English Channel, more than 11,000 miles away. Though Krakatoa was uninhabited 1 the waves produced by the upheaval caused great damage on neighboring shores to shipping and buildings and great loss of life. It was estimated that 36,000 persons perished In the cataclysm. But the most astonishing feature of the Krakatoa blowup was the noise it made. If the investigators were not mistaken it was the loudest noise ever heard on this planet. The scientists figured that the sound waves, spreading both ways from Krakatoa, met at the Antipodes of the island, rebounded after the impact and came back to Krakatoa after the manner of an echo from both sides in a way that instruments could have detected them if instruments had been there. After investigation it was believed that actual sounds were heard?not detected as sound waves by instruments, but heard by the human ear? as far away as the Philiplnes, about 1,400 miles; at Bangkokp, about the ooma iiiotanco' in fpvlon. more than 2,000 miles distant, and in South Australia, some 2,200 miles away. itf A judge was trying a case recently and was much disturbed by a young man who kept moving about in the rear of the room, lifting chairs and looking under thirgs. "Young man," the judge called out, "it seems to me that you are making a great deal of unnecessary noise. What are you doing?" "Your honor," replied the young man, "I've lost my overcoat and am trying to find it." "Well," said the judge. "I have seen people lose whole suits In here without making the disturbance you are." JW Some girls go around with opera glasses looking for some outrage to scream about.?Luke McLuke. a? OV There are lots of guys walking around sound asleep who never heard of somnambulism.?Luke McLuke. THE PAGE WAS LATE Trivial Circumstance that Changed History of Franco. King Louis XV had Just died. The candle that had been burning in one of his apartments had been put out as a signal to the trembling heirs of the throne of France, but this was done far more effectively by the sound of the approaching storm, the clatter of the footsteps of the crowd of courtiers, rushing towards the apartments jf their new masters, telling them of their new dignity. All were deeply moved, many wept and Marie Antoinette whispered: "May the Lord be merciful to us. "We are very young to rule France.'" A minister of state, however must be chosen. It was customary for a king ! upon ascending the throne to place the ^ reins of power into the hands of a new minister, and Louis XVI was not the man to change this custom. But he did not know whom to choose. The queen advised him to recall Mr. j Choiaeul, but Louis remembered the j very unpleasant truths which this man had dared tell his father and he said that the protege of Mme. Pompadour shall never be minister of state. The i king was thinking of M. Ma'chault, ' whose rare virtue, absolute integrity and liberal ideas pleased him. "Tell M. de La Roseraie, he said to ! his personal servant, "to come here Immediately, and carry a letter to Arnouville." Sitting down to his desk the king began to write, in his stiff clumsy hand- ' writing, the autograph letter which conferred the autocratic power. "M. de La Roseraie," the cry sound- 1 ed through all the corridors of the pal- ( ace, and it spread to the big building in which the king's pages were living. "M. de La Roseraie," the voices cried through the shady walks of the park around Trianon, but the page did not hear it. Still he was not very far away. If those who were looking for him would have gone into one of the green lanes leading towards the town they would have seen this strange spectacle; at the top of a ladder leaning against the high wall a young man stood on tiptoes try-' Ing to reach the top of the wall above which would be seen the head and shoulders of a young girl, evidently Btanding on a similar ladder on the other side. She was wearing an exqulBite white dress of lace and ribbon and ? ? -i* a u-j ner oeauuiui iace wus an uuoueu wim excitement in spite of the powder. Both , the young people were far too occupied ' with their own conversation to listen to what was going on around them. "My God, cousin," the young girl Bald. "I don't understand your impatience at all. Why should you be so annoyed. If our marriage is delayed now because of the death of the king, 1 do not see any calamity in that, though It does seem a pity, when everything is ready, but at least you ought to feel ] quite sure that my feelings for you will J be quite the same at the end of the mourning as they are today." "But, beautiful Adelaide, my most | sensible cousin, I am burning with the | desire to call you my wife and carry i you off to the beautiful chateau our parents have given us, and I think it i is verv cruel of you to smile now as if I you were mocking my sorrow." ! 'Why, cousin dear, I am surprised at you. You look positively ferocious. You know I love you, but what is the use of getting excited, when you must know as well as I do that my father is far too loyal to the royal house to per- < mit us to get married until the time of , mourning is over. Instead of looking at me with angry eyes and even trying to scold me, you really ought to thank me because I consent to see you in spite of all rules of modest, maidenly behavior. What do you suppose people would think of me, if they saw us I here? " "People would probably think that it . is rather hard when engaged people ' are driven to such tricks as climbing ladders in order to see each other." "And I think that a girl must think very much of a young man when she will make herself look just like a parrot on its perch just to get a talk with i him. And I will get a good scolding ' because the thorns of the rosebush un- J demeath here have torn my nightdress for it is in that costume that I sneaked away from the house when my governness had fallen asleep because she , bad indulged too much in the cream of Barbadoes, which she is so iona 01. "And which you poured out for her, divine Adelaide. How shall I ever be able to thank you enough for your love and kindness towards me, and for all the sufferings you have to bear for my sake?" At this moment the sound of voices < calling grew so loud that even the ears ! of the lovers had to notice it. "Parblue. 'Somebody is calling me.'" The call rang out, clear and distinct: "M. de La Roseraie. "The king wants you'." "Heavens." And without taking time to say , goodbye, the young man rushed down , the ladder, while Adelaide hurried back to her sleeping governess. The king was patiently waiting for 1 M. de La Roseraie. He has commenced writing his letter and has almost tin isnea me nrsi une which icauo. "My dear Monsieur de Ma? But his pen had gone no farther for his aunts, Madame Victoire and Mme. Adele interrupted him. They always ' loved to mix themselves up with their nephew's affairs and the man he had j chosen did not suit them at all. This j M. Machault of Arnouville, they insisted, was a very dangerous individual, filled with the ideas of the modern j philosophers and by no means friendly 1 to the church. They overwhelmed the king with prayers begging him in the name of the Catholic faith he had sworn to uphold not to place a man tainted with atheism in supreme power. It would be far wiser, they said, to j approach Count de Maurepas, who was i a most devout Catholic and who, what was equally important, had always been a bitter enemy of Mme. Pompa aour. This last argument impresses the young king who was still hesitating to make up his mind and the page had not yet come. Louis looked at the Interrupted letter and smiled. It was not even necessary to write it over again for "My dear Monsieur de Ma?" may very easily be finished to read Maurepas. It seemed almost providential, so he gave in to his aunts. At this moment the door opened and a servant announced: "M. de La Roseraie is awaiting your majesty's orders." i "Tell him to be ready to carry a letter to Chateau de Pontchartrain in a moment." The thing was done. The frivolous and dissolute minister whose carelessness hastened the outbreak of the revolution had been nominated, and only because M. de la Rosehaie was delayed by his love talk with his Cousin Adelaide. FOR fAL? ? * * The Quinn eawie land?On King's Mt. road, adjoining Frank Riddle's Nell place and others, am willing to cut this into smaller farms to suit the purchaser. I also have for sale the Walter , Love-Dobson place, on the new Clover road, at a great bargain and proposition that is fascinating. I also want a tenant for a farm, either on shares or to rent. The residence of the lata Pr. J. B. Allison, joining the new Praahqrterlan Manse. Can be cut into two beautiful building lots. The property of Dr. Mack White on King's Mountain Street, also 2 dwellings. property of Quinn Wallace, et al, on Kind's Mountain Street. This property will .be sold quickly and If you want It. see me. ^ I have for sale three of the finest Farms In Tork county, and they are very cheap at the price; to wit: The John Black?Henry Massey homestead. 000 Acres?The R. m Anderson Farm. ?-1 410 Acres?Of the 8. M. Jort4f*Ware Farm, about 4 miles from ftodll Bill. Also 18 acres, and & hlea cottafe. beautifully located within the Incorporate limits of Yorkvllle. Read my list of Farms and send mt some of- M fers. 341 Acres?Kno^n as the John A. Black-Henry Massey residence! Ad- . Joining R. M. , Anderson ad others; has a beautiful 8 room residence; good bottom land: Ono firm. .Will * divide this Into smatf tMMth ihd if I'QUght as a whole for adtch Sale, will take $30.00 Per Acre. Two Good Houses On King's Mountain 8treet, 240 Acres Joins Frank Riddle and D. M. Hall; 2 good houses 2 barns; ? near King's Mt. Chapel. Price $52.00 J. C. WILBORN Geo. W. 8. Hart Jos. t. Hart HART A HART .% ATTORNEYS AT LAW Yorkvillo - - - ^ - 8. C. i Witherspoon 81^, Second Floor, Front,* 'Phono (Office)* No. 6l x '.i _r^ D. E. Finloy J. A. Morion . FINLEY & NUfTON J ATTORNEY8 AT lUty Oppooito Court Houso Yorkvilio, 8. Cr> ; T Tit l)r. B. G. li I. A (' K. 3 Surgeon Oontiot. ' >.;*f . Office second floor of the New McS'eel Building. At Clover Tuesday and, Friday of each week. JOHN R. HART ATTORNEY AT LAW No., 3 Law Range voouuii i a a r. ivnrwiiiiiBt ? v? REAL ESTATE j ow thai the fall season has opened up, and money is going to be more plentiful, can't we do some business together? Call in and let's talk thd natter over, anyway. Tea, I have sold the H. T. Williams -esldence. You remember I told ?-ou to "hurry." But, say, I have lumbers of other attractive bargains. . Ihc Mrs. Berry Cottage?On West Jefferson Street is a nice propose . tion. 1 am going to sell It, too. Want . it: flie w. I*. Wallace Hesltlence?Ol u California Street, will salt you. Sea me. Or possibly, you would tike a nice lot on which to build. I have it. n>e Walter Hose Place?Of 87 acres, one mile from town on the Char lotte road. Is an Interesting proposition. Call and see me. Xlso see me about a nice farm on the Sutton Spring road. The price la right and the quality of the soil If good. Lots of other attractive property on my list. Geo. W. Williams HEAL ESTATE BROKER. Our Clubmakert. For the information of the public and more particularly of subscriber* and intending subscribers whose names have not yet been returned for next year, we are printing the following list of clubmakers who have so far reported with clubs. We have information of a number of other clubmakers who have clubs: but who have not yet reported. These will be addeJ later. In the meantime subscribers who have not yet renewed their subscriptions for next year, should get Into communication with one of the clubmakers in the following list: Miss Sal lie W. Allison Hickory Grove Miss Nellie Allison Tirza*. John K. Allison Hickory Orovo 1. L. Brandon No. 4, Torkvill# James Biggers No. 1 Yorkvill* E. C. Boyd No. 8 Clover R. A. Barnett Rock Hill Mra S. L. Blair No. 1 Sharon Claude Burns No. 1 YorkviUg W. A. Barrett ciovep Miss Nannie Barnett . No. 2 Yorkvllle Mrs. Walter Bell Guthrlesvllie Miss Lottie Barnes Guthrlesvllie F. H. Blgham Sharon W. W. Campbell No. 1. Rock H1U W. L. Cranford No. 1, Sharon B. J. Currence No. 8, Yorkvllle W. H. Crook Fort Ml 1 Mrs. Fred Cook No. 2 Yorkvlt'e J. J. Dunlap, Jr Rock Hill J. W. Y. Dickson 5 Yorkvllle. A. D. Dorsett .... Yorkvlhe J. R. Davidson No. 3 Clover Frank Dagnall Hickory Grove Mrs. \V. Guy Davis Clover E. L. Ford Clover Mrs. M. A. Gaston .. .Bullock's Creek . Pam M. Grist Yorkvllle Mrs. R. H. Gwlnn Sharon No. 2 ^arl Hovis ..... 1 Smith's T. O; I. C. Johnson No. 1 Clover Miss Rena M. Jenkins .. .No. 1 Sharon Mrs. W. W. Jackson ..No. 6, Yorkvllle William Jones .... Yorkvllle W. F. Jackson 7 Yorkvllle Miss Mary Jackson .Newport Mrs. C. L. Kennedy Sharon G. W. Knox Clover Miss Lola Lllley Filbert Mrs. J. D. I.and No. 1 Yorkvllle W. S. Lesslle Lesslle Stanhope Love No. 1 Yorkvllle W. W. Love No. 7 Yorkvllle A. W. McFarland .. ..No. 3 Yorkvllle Harry Miller No. 6 Yorkvllle Mrs. T. V. McFadden Rock Hill Grover McFarland Clover Miss Sallle McConnell McC 'nnellsvllle Mrs T. C. McKnlght Sharon Miss Nannie Brooks Matthews No. 4 Rock HiH J. J. McSwain Ancona Mill Miss Grizzle Mullfnax ..King's Te?k Mrs. M. E. Nichols Yorkvilie L. G. Nunn Rock Hill W. A. Nichols No. 2 Smvrna Earl Parrott Filbert Lee Purs'ey No. 4 Clover Mrs. T. Howard Riddle ..No 2 Clover Miss Margaret Robinson ..6 Yorkvilie J. K. Scogglns Rock Hill Jeptha Smith No. 4 Yorkvilie I. P. Rlfford Clover. YV. T. Smarr Bullock's Creek .7. H. Sherer Sharon R. F. P. Gr'?r Sherer Sharon No. ?. J. F. A. Smith No. 1 Yorkvilie J. R. Shilllnglaw .. ..No. 7 YorkviMe rieo. L. Suggs No. 8, Yorkvilie Mrs. John M. Smith Cove" A. C. White King's Creek DeLoach Whiteside Filbert. W. W. Wya.tt Smvrre Lester Watson ..No. 1 Hickory Grove Jeff D. Whltesldes ..No. 2 Hickory Grove. Mrs. Raymond Whltesldes No. 1 Filbert R. W. Whltesidev ..: Smyrna w|ss Lizzie Wood 2 r**over Mra S. D. Youngblood Clover