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#THE 8HADOW* #% OF THE #1 nCORDILLERA;s Or, The Maunolia Rower. I% BY VIRGINIA LEILA WENTZ. -0 COPRvaOUr, 1900, BY EaVIN WARMAN. CHAPTER I. PERLA DEL OCCI DENTE" partakes of the character of both *ones into which Mexico is divided. Merry Guadalajara is placed on the boundary line between the hot and cold lands. The Cerro del Col, a kind of extinct volcano, the peak of Tequila, and be hind this melancholy looking mountain a complete chain of rugged hills hem ming in the Itio Tololotlan compose the somber looking amphitheater which screens the capital of the state of Ji lisco on the north. But upon the banks of the Tololotlan prevails another at inosphere, and the traveler flnds him self in the region of the tierra caliente, where citron trees and bananas take the place of oaks and pInes and arid sands are succeeded by fields of sugar canes watered by numerous streams. Before the era of railways, when the phrase ferro carril was an uncouth one anid incomprehensible to all save the padres, the Pearl of the West was the queen of the entire rich western coast of Mexico. Even today she lifts her ivory towers, her imss of shining domes and moresque minarets with sweet pride. For the skies toward which she lifts then are of such ra diance as scarcely anywhere else are to be seen even in this land of radiant skies. Tree arched avenues lead in every diretion from Guadalajara to in. numerable villages that dot the ver dant plain on which she lies smiling. And these villages, for all -that they are such mites of things, are nearly perfect as types. Low adobe houses straggle around three sides of the town plaza; on the fourth side is the quaint - Vhdrdh (even the pueblitos, the tiniest settlements of all, usually have their churches). Back of the houses are cor rales and gardens, and back of these, in turn, are the cultivated fields cross ed and recrossed by acequias through - which the water comes that makes fruitful the land. Not alone are these villages typical; they possess, more over, histories that far antedate the time when the fierce and warlike Nuno de Guzzman led his army into western New Spain. On a smooth, green billow of the land, Just without one of these puebil tos, are two houses. They are not al together like the rest; they are larger and more pretentious, and standing up there on the knoll as they do they seem to commandl the village as a manse might command a seigniory. One mor-ning, something like a dou ble score of years ago, two horseme3 came up the willow shaded road that leads past these houses. Their conver sation was in lerench. They were die cussiug minecs, intent upon specula tions and investments--at least the eld er of the two was. Hie was not a man you wouhi be likely to pass without obser-ving. There was something in the restless, wviry, nervous exp~ression of his face that made you wonder what he had done. His companion, on the contrary, madle you question what he possibly could do. He was the dain tiest, golden haired, blue eyed mani kin that ever stepped out of a Parisian bandbox. At the threshold of the first house, the one nearest Guadalajara, from whence thme horsemen rode, was a young girl busily engaged in stringing colored beads. She was seated upon a mat, her legs crossed in Mexican fash ion, and from beneath her dr-ess peeped two little stockingless feet. Her rebhozo had glided from her head to her shoul ders and from her shoulders to the reed mat upon which she was sitting. "Moni Dieui What a beauty!" ex claimed the younger man. And as ti midity was not the principal defect in the character of this cavalier he po litely took off his hat, caused the row ele of his iron spurs to clank against the sides of his steed, and the animal reared and curveted in his most ele gant manner before the porch of the. house. The movtgnent was so unexpected that the girl Uittered a cry of terror and started to her feet. The next moment the horse had thrown its rider, Hie lay senseless on the road, having struck his temple on a stone. 1When Berrendo Oajaca, the master of the house, had been called, when the unconscious young man had been brought under cover of his roof and everything that hospitality could sug gest had been done, Henry Beausoleil went on his way to San Pedro. Him host had told him of a doctor whom he would find there, and it was nearer * than Guadalajara. "Bahi" he muttered angrily to him molt. "What a milksop that fellow isa"' He referred to his whilom companion.. WThen he added with am chuckle: "He is .the one wvhonm his money manipulates. I am the one who manipulates his. foney." Whih as true enough. Beausoleil was Claude Caton's agenit, and he had semnt his fortune out in all directions.. F'or the most part it came back with considerable booty in the way of per eentage. It dipped into every transac * tion in the state of Louisiana (Now Or leans was Catou's birthplace), it walk .d around in slaves, it floated in boats, nud It shaved paper. Claudle was the last representative of an aristocratic famnily who for genera tions had married for blood and money together. When they were not polish tag' and refining the original steak,, they were fertilizing and cultivating; their money. If It happened to be afl case of cousins, so much the better. The process of concentration, howev or, was more favorable to the money than to the blood. The children had grown smaller and weaker, prettier 4a8 punter, fewer and fewer, genera. tion after generation. This last repre sentative of the race had got to that pass intellectually when he had to buy all the business ability he required. His agent, Beausoleil, had business ability to sell and over. * * * C * * C Down in the depths of her Aztec blood Ouelle had a superstitious faith in the coming again of Montezuma. She knew that when the god returned it would be with the rays of the rising sun, and as the blond young fellow had lain there in the road for a few moments in the early morning sun light he had indeed appeared to her as a god. When finally he opened his eyes, she was standing by the door watching him, one arm half raised and resting on the sill, her body partly turned, as it arrested. The position showed the beautiful lines of her lithe figure. le looked at her dreamily and tried to raise his head, but he could not. Then the girl moved slowly toward him, as though fascinated by his look, and gaz ed luto his eyes as a little child might. "I am so sorry that my scream frightened the senor's horse." The voice was as melodious as that of the cenzontle, the Mexican nightingale. Catou had sprained his ankle, it ap peared, and in the weeks that follow ed Beausoleil came to see him daily. But he never staid long. He was dia gusted with the whole affair, he said. Bis opinion, however, made little dif ference to Claude, who was in the habit of doing as he pleased. An agent was paid for managing busineess af firs, nothing else. Young Montezuma meanwhile had won the heart of the stout, middle aged senora by commissIoning Beau soliel to fetch her the most gaudy dress pattern to be found in all Guadalajara, and lie had become a great personage a very great personage indeed-to the little brown faced children because lie had bidden his agent never to forget to bring them (ulces. Berrendo Oajaca also liked him because lie spoke the Spanish "muy galante." But with Ouelle it was differeut-altogether dif feren t. One day Berrendo was out in the garden by the aejula plantinlg a mag nolia tree. The senora had Just reach ed up and seized one of a number of chickens perched beneath the roof of the jacal. She was wringlug its neck with a view to supper. Ouelle was preparing the American senor sonie coffee. lie liked it often. The senor, for his part, lay back in his chair, his ankle nicely bandageA, watching the door leading to the kitch en, which from time to time Ouelle would pass. In some strange way be could not understand, and yet, which seemed per fectly natural to him, he longed to re main here, away from the fuss and fret and fume, the noise and coinplexi ty of things. le was tired of white kid gloves and evening clothes. What claims had New Orleans on him, Claude Catou ? Death, who had al ways been hanging arounld the corner with a pistol or a knife or sailing up the Mississippi with a cargo of yellow fever or cholera, had robbed him of all his people. As to his business at'fairs, Beausolell could attend to them, of course. It was far-deal for him even to attempt to meddle in t heir- manage ment. Besides Ouelle enter-ed the room11 withi a cup of coffee and a tilask of cognac. She placed the tray on a table at his side. Hie touched heri hand, and her lip. parted1 as though to speak. Hei- fam thier coming in at this moment she turnled away and sank In a huddled heal) on the floor- neai- the door of the kitchen. Bierrendo was in something of an IN humo-. He had not been all this time planting his magnolia trece, it appear ed, ie had been quar-ieling agnim with his neighbor-, Cristino Miguiel. Now, Berendo and Cristino were the closest of coimrnades. When tho detest ed Ameirleanos hadi invaded their- coud try, they had fought together and suif fered1 loss of pr-oper-ty together. And since those (lays but one discoi-d ever had jostled upon their har-monious friendship. T1his discoi-d camne in the shape of bieker-ings over- the iright to the wa tei-r which reached Bleri-endo's land only after- having cr-ossed a leWd of Cristino. Usually these wr-angles were of a good natured sor-t. But today, deelde4 ly, Ilerriendo's temper- had got the up per hand1(. He tr-iedl to explain to Ca tou: "lie thinks"-i-referring to Cristino Miguel-"that because his pecie have handed him down as a treasure a let ter addr-essed, 'Al Senor Don Miguel Hidaigo y Costilla, P'arocco del P'ueble ie Dolores'-why, e-inmbha! he thinks that hecause of this he ought ten own the whole of Mexico." Blerrendoisnap ped his fingers with so much' emi phasis that he quIte conveyed the~nm Pression of having stamped his foot'. "lHe (-laims some sort of relationship with the conquistadlores," he began again. "H~ave some cognac?" inter-rup~ted Ca tou, pushing the flask toward him. "And coffee?" Then turning to Ouelle with a smile, "Will the senorita fetch another cup of coffee?" When she returned, her father met bar, having forgotten Cristino and the conquistadores, and leading her to Ca totu, placed her hand in his and said: "It is well, senoi-; si 'stahueno. You are rich and will be kind to her." And the senora, coming r m tnnhe ja. cal, nodded her head so t hat t he gr-a t golden hoops in her car ns lhob':wd miiiT ly. And she echoed, "Yes, ii , bxell" So the next day thre p~adunt cedme, and before a gracious pi(-ture- afC Our Lady3 of Guadalupe and little higirlted eidles shining likec stars the gili whose an cestors had danced a war1 dlance hand cried "Ouich'kai Ouich'kap" and the man whose ancestors had lived i a 'castle and written on created~apor-tbe 'Came man and wife. Ouelle was radiantly happy 'in spite of the clothing that eanme fromm~unda Adara for her use. This (-lotlugiamaz ed hei-, and at first it was irt,~- - - ', anain dlressed as her beautiful Mkmote zun wvould have her. Hut wheiwver he would show her a likeness that he carried in a locket-that of his mother, he satid-she would smfie and, feeling of hetn dressed hair and glancing at her slippetred feet, would say,1gayly: "An l I also shall look like that one 0 0 0 4 0 5 5 One evening Catou sat tooking over the mail that Beausoleil bad fetched him. Ouello was cuddled in a little heap on the floor, her head against his knee. Catou had tried several times to open his mouth. At last the words came: "Sweetheart, I must go to New Or leans, but I can't take you, becauso" Ouelle sprang to her feet in an In stant, and into her dark eyes camte a wild look. "But you are mine-mine." In a moment she forgot her queenly bearing and fell sobbing in the man's arms, her whole body quivering. "Probeeto," he said, holding her closs. "I will come back to you soon. "But you are mine-mine." Usten. There Is going to be war in the States between the north and the south. I must fight for my rights. But we'll whip those Yankees in a few weeks, and then-then I'll come to you, dear." The next day through her tears she saw him ride off; Ahl, poor little brown wifel Go back to your bend stringing and look up the road that leads to Guadalajara. Your tear shall be your meat day and night, while underneath your breath you Moan, "Oh, Dios!" CHAPTER II. The magnolla tree that had been planted out by the aceqiula had seen spring give place to summer anid au tuni to winter nearly 13 times, wheu at last one day old Berrendo and Cris tino, his neighbor, lilt upon a mierry plan. Ileneeforth there should be no more wrangling. Tite1 field over whieli the water flowed was to be Liana's marriage portion. Of course they would have to wait awhile for the wedding. Inocenclo Berrendo's grandson, was only 12, andi Liana, the grandditughter of Cristino. was but 9. MIeaniivhile, having deter mined upon the plan which should put an en1d to the contention of years, tht two old mn1 were in rare glee. it1 their abanumdon they drank to the health of their grandehildreit more tImes thim was good for them in Parras brandy of the best. Berevildo wis sharply denlouniced I consequence by his wire. but Cristino Poor Old fellow, had ni seniora's gra elous presence in his house. To be sure. Linna olened her great eyes wide when lie laughed inordinately and sat own on a table instead of a chair. But as lie allowed her' to take i pictuire of St. Catherine that hung oii the wall and( cut o::t (lie salit's ttgurt for a doll she thought, ona the whole, i1 was rathier nice. LIiocenciio and1( Llina had grown utL together, and they were both alike i11 this-they were orphans. Th'le littlc girl was but 3 years old when her par' ents, who had gone to spend a weels with some) 'ouinits in a necar by pu(eblo, wer'e c'arriedl off by a pestilenice o1 smallpiox whk'h swepit down upon the town. Th'le boy's mother had died irs giving him birth. As to his father well, no one ever spoke of his father and inocenclo grew so at last that he dlisliked to ask his grandfather any questions concerning him. However, lhe noticod a singular thing in this connection. Whenever by any chanice it happened that he was bold enough to broachi the subject Blerrendo having gruffly warded him off, would invariably break into the same lUtth snatches of an old1 Spanish song: De ml laeo ('escaparas, Pw e mis bola--quandol And then he would go about his work, puffing and steaming ait ai great r'ate, Berrendo had never- been a gauucho Inocenclo was sure of that-so why did he sing this couplet ? TIhiat was a gaucho's song. - Th'le dlevoted grandtluothier-she who nurised the stone bruises, picked out the slivers, kissed away the troubles, gladdened the young heart by her sim ple tales-had told him one thing. though. Ils father's namfle was Claude. His mother' hiad asked that thle priest should give her baby that nanie, too, and he had-Claude Inocencio. "But Inocencio is a name long enough to hear' ever'y day," the old we man had concluded, "and1 your' grand father likes it better." Liana liked it too. She would have been lonely without Inocencio. He had been her champion and lover-aye, and her worshiper as well-ever since baby bood. Once whon the tiny, soft eyed thing, a coquette eveni then, had put her arms around the stalwart boy and lisped in pretty Spanish that she loved him lie had stopped1 whittling his stick and answer'ed solemnly: "But, Liana, you do not love mue as well as Pancho Alanuel. You gave him halt of your banana yesterd(ay." "Oh, si," she had answered, with a sUtght toss of her lovely baby head, "I liked Pancho yesterday, but I like you, Inocencio, today." And Inocencio had kissed her-, not satisfied and not understamnding, yet trying to be0 content. 'Tho glamour of his love cast about her an unreal light, out of wvhich shone so perfect a figure that lie howved before her, while lis straight forward nature endeavored to grasp the tortuous winings of a tem-. pera men t beyond lia comprehension. Yet at times was lie also masterful. The day, for instance, when unknown to them Berrendo and Cristino had do. cided upon their merry plan. '.The chil dren were makinj hlttThdobebs anil building toy jacals out under the mag nolla tree, fetching their water from the acequia In miniature ollas. "Why do you sigh, Inocenelo?7" Asked Liana, stirring her wet clay vigorously. "Is it because the I~nglish that the padre gives you for your lesson tomor r-aw i.s .a mln" "No; there is another thing that Makes me sad. It will be five long months yet before I ant 13, Llana." Inocenco made the announcemient re flectively. "And then there Is itchi a weary time to wait before I shall be a man." "Well, when you get to be a man what then ?" "I shall marry you first of all. And then I shall go far into the Immense forests of the mountains there"-ho pointed to the distant peaks of the Cor dillera, beyond which lie Tepie and San Blas-"and I will hunt and hunt and hunt" The boy broke off for a moment to listen to the wind playing delicately In the branches of the tree above him, a rapt expression on his handsome, swarthy face. Did he hear his Indian forbears calling "Yo-hi-ouan!" "Yes, and I will sleep on a bed of grass, I will follow the traces of the stag and the jaguar, 1" "But what will you do with me?" chimed in Liana, the feminine in her asserting Itself. She stop)ped her stir ring and dropped her stick. She let her little chin fall Into her clay solled hands and looked at him wonderingly. "Oh," sald Inocencla, laughing and forgetting "Yo-hi-ouan," "I shall buy you a home in gay Guadalajara. Would you like best that it should be near the great quadrangle of the Plaza do Ar -mas, where the military band plays, or close to the governor's palace, where the flowers are so beautiful, or next to the big cathedral, where they burn a aillion lights?" "Why, I nocenclo!" exclaimed Liana admiringly. And then she added, "I think I should like best to be near the dear Santuarla." She rubbed her pret ty cheek up and down his arm affec tionately. "Because, you know, I love it so." For several years now the good padre had been taking her and Inoceucio there on the feast of Guadalupe to join in the fiesta of the people. The vast nave of the Santuarla, crowded with kneeling formts, and the dazzling splen dor of the white and gold altar had quite stolen away the child's warm r ligious soul. The children went on playing quiet ly for a few moments, each busy with separate thoughts, until Liana inter rupted the silence. "Yes, I love the Santuarla, and ii would be kind of you to buy me a house close to it. But, no- I should want to go with you, Inoceuclo. Grand father will be old and withered then and only have two teeth left. Oh, no; I should -ant to go with you, decid edly." "You couldn't, into the deep forests. You are a girl," remarked Inocencic dryly. Lnta's lip trembled for a second, Then she rejoined with a dainty tri Umiph In her voice: "Alt, well, perlhlips I shall not wani to marry you at all!" It was at this Juncture that Inocencic had brought his lips together in a mas terful. grim fashion-a fashion whicl1 he had and which grandnother saw somethines, but seldont Liana. "There is no use in many words. I like thent not. Iut I am going to mar The next eveniing. whetn the padrN eame to lh-ar theitr lessons and they wei"ret eted around thle little table witi the klerotsene inamp in the center-, Iarn informed his r-e-rence that Inocencih had spoke-n to ht-r "'inny3 mal."' The padr-e pulledi a face, andl, draw Ing the hoy close to htim, wvhisper-et something in huls ear-. Inocentcio smtiled aind stoodI uncertait f nr moment, tapp)ing his foreheat "ie is goinig to b~eg your pardoa i elish." the nidt-e explained. Then camne Inocettclo's rich, melhos voloe, with at (hildish ktrIiehle in it: "bi eas, I ask of you patr--dini. Zfee liltndi I kiss of you." "Isnt't thle i-Tngilih toitgue fuinniy, 10a dre? latughted I -Ia omenrrily. "Maty I leantm it toot? 1i sm tily hiar-d.'" No wvonder- they loved t he good padlre of th ltdiIitth-le uieb lo. Ile was a mn Iitto whose beintg sotmetlumg bettecr 'I-oderaft anid w.dieate wit, thle frmind ship of aimtals ami a delicate symtpa thy- withi the lifer of clblhood. 'The geit tleniess (it lils mannetr contra istted 0(ddl1y w1ithI thle hilgiess of hiIs pihique. And lie was <lutite coniltnt to spendi~ ble daysa in his humble little corner- of' t h ear-th. le was too fast idiousW aIs well as too lowly' to care greatfly for flie flinmginrg uip of' ca pa it the stree-t. Y's, thle l'adre Anttonio was (oine of the lihla kitud as aigainst the Ilijahs, one of thle sor-t thtat heal hitte-r waters withi a hand ful of salIt, make1 pioisonous pot tage wholesome with a it l meI i'aI, fintd quiet, silmtple wayst3 to deli ver poot widows fromt theit- trediftrs and se of lils cassock youi coutld alway-s 1111d a deck of car-ds, but that wias oitly fort the game of solitaire. Ills sat(istan anid serv-anmt, o1(1 Joe und~ -nrved htim a sort of card table out of the trmimtk of a tree, antd isteatd of' go ig off' wIthI lia pipe or his cigar, htis ilute or his guitar, as other padres dlid,. he wouldi go to lis little table arnd hiave lis game of solitaire. Several years before lie had said to Berr-endo antd Cristitto: "The little onses are br-ightt. 'rhey ought to go to school." Anad the two old- metn half to themrselves htad recsp)onded ini htopeless tones: "Si, padrme." Neither of thernt had ev er donte that. "TIhere's fine stuff ini bothi of those chIldren, and( there's no treasott why I shouin't teach thtemi my1self'. I wvill." So spoke the padre alone a few hours hateir to hisa car-ds. Anid ever since thieni he haid beent truie to his word. At first he had begun by3 lifting them to lis knee and1 tellirtg themi of thtose wontder-ful thirtgs c'alled cities, full of people thait could readl and( write, an~d about steamboats antd steatm car-s. And they held their breoath iinimazemetnt, whlile thte tenidrils of ambition commnlede~ to feel ar-ound and aspirations began to stir and huni in their young heartsl like waking bee. nW aaaonna of snring. _ TO BE coNTINUIED. Dairyman in Iowa are turning more to cheese and less to butter than in for mer years. The number of cows froni Which milk 18 furnished to creamerlel grantly innroaaeils sne an. 1 AVgetable PreparalionforAs similating liieFood andRegtda bing the Stomachs andBowels of Promotes Digestion.Cheerrul ness and Rest.Contains neither Opium,Morphine nor Mineral. NOT NAnIC OTIC. /*I, arWldIksMfMVAZ WMiAR J&MdI/ &4r - Anw Seia - A perfect Remedy forConsfipa lion, Sour Stomach,Diarrhoca Worms,ConvulsionsFeverish ness md Loss OF SLEEP. Fac Simite Signature or NIEW YOIRK. EXACT COPY OF WRAPPER. THE DESTRUCTION OF CHEST NUT TREES. A correspondent of the Kwo(wee Courier writes that his attention was dranvii last summer to the fact that many chestnut trees were dying in the no ntains of North Carolina. Ie s some of the twigs and leaves to P'rof. A. P. Anderson, of Clemson 'ollege, for his examination, and he has kindly furnished the following in fornation: "I am in receipt of the chestnut leaves and branches from Horse Cove, N. C. The leaves look healthy for this time of the year, being late in in the season when the leaves (lie a inatural death. Some of the leaves have been partly eaten by one of the inscets known as the "leaf skeletoniz.ers," but the injury is not serious enough to affect, to any great extent, the health of the tree. I was unable to find any indications of other inseet injuries on the specimens sent, especially none of any serious nature. ''It is a w~ell knowvn f'act that for some years past the chestnut trees of Virginia, West Virginia, North Caro linia, and South Carolina, as well as of other States, have been (lying out slowly f or some reason, not very well known. Certain fuiigous diseases have been found on the leaves as well as on the trunks and branches of the trees, but not serious enough to war rant the wholesale destruction' of the chestnut groves and forests that, eenms to be going on. ''Ot. isect pests the chestnut weevil (Balaninus Caryatrypes) is the most serious. sinec it destroys the nuts, making them wor my. The worms or giubs are the larvae of the chestnut. weevil. T1he worms are too wvell known to nteed any dcsc':iption ; they are com mon in thu nuts at this time of the year, often being found in seventy-live per~ cent of the nuts. The wormy tnts are not only rendered useless as food, but their germinatintg p)ower is also destroyed, so that fewer beedlings or young chestnuts grow tup undler the old trees on that accouint. T1hie worms are footless and 'white. T1he adult insect is a beetle of the weevil kind. The beetle appears while the chestinits are in bloom and then lays its eggs by means of a long slender sniout which it thrusts into tihe young burrs andl into the iiut itself. The hole made heals over and the egg hatches and dcycelops~ into the- worm or white grub-the larvae stage of the chestnut, weevil. The larvae miatuire about the time the nut, ripmens, when it eats a hole through the shell and escapes into the ground, whore it changes into a pupa, lives over winter andl . nppears at the next blooming season as the nmatuire beetle, which again dleposits its eggs ini the young burrs. After the old1 beetle has deposited its eggs it (lies. As to remedies for the chestnut weevil no satisfactory treatment is known. The)1 number can be dlecreased) by (lest roying all of the wormy nuts of the p)recedling season. This caii be (one by scalding the nuts for a fea miniutes inl water. T1he wormy nu float to the top-audi~ the sound~ ones, r a rule, sink to the bottom when sub merged in - water. By dlestroyinig the floating ones the greater niumbecr of the wormy nuts can be destroyed. The above method would be a good onie, especially where tile chestnut trees or grove is isolated from the wvild chest nut groves or trees, and would not, be praceticalhe where large amtens or groves are near at hand, since the adult weevil has wings and will fly long dlistancees." OUR GAREATICST SPECIALIST. For 20 years D~r. J.'Newton Haithaway~ has sessuccessfully treated chronic disasa es that ho is acknowledged today to stadn at the head of his profession in tis line. His exciusive meth od of treatment for' Varicocele and Stricture, without, Lhe aid of knife or cautery cures in UJ per cent, of all eases. In the treatment of the loss of' Vital Fores. Nervous Disorders, Kidney and Urinary Complaints. Paral ye'ie, Bloodi Poieoning, Rhieum-atism, Catarrh, and dis - eases peculiar to women, lie Is equnally successful. lDr. llathaway's praettua is more than dou ble that of an~v other spec. lalist, Cases pronounced hiel;'fres by ether physician. readily yield to his treatment. Write him today fully about your ease. Be makes no charge for consultation or advice, either at i betofics or by mail. J. N owton H athaway M. D., 22%j South ;ASTORIA For Infants and Children. he Kind You Have Always Bought Bears the Signature of In Use For Over Thirty Years CASTORIA TH9 CENTAUR COMPANY. NEW VOMM COMt RENTING TIE FARM. The old farmer who has moved into Lown to please his family and because lie has a vague notion that he ought to retire is often a pathetic sight. I is occupation is gone, and with it the in Lerests of a life time. le entcrs a new environnient and feels himself shrink Eug in importance as the days go by. With the removal of all obligations to busy himself, le often falls into the iabit of (loing nothing a good share of Ahe time, and hugs the chimney corner vien lie is not gossiping with old ronies at the village store. Ile grows ld rapidly and from being a man of onie distimctionI in the commiunity he capidfly deteriorates into the class of miperfluous individuals who contribute iothing to society. Such is not neces mrily the fate of all men who retire from the active management of farms )ut it occurs frequently enough to ifford plenty of examples. On1e Yonders why they are so easily per muaded to relinquish an active life, yet he reasons are abundant enough if one akes the trouble to investigate. Per lnps the children arb growing up and alamnot for greater scholastic ad( van tamges than the (district school aflordls, and better society. T1hey uniite to persuade pa that h~e is getting old, that lhe needs i rest and that lie ought, to rent the farm and' move to town where Jlack may eventually secure a clerical posi tion and Mary learn dressmaking. Ihis Life has seemed to him mnoitonouis andl lilled with hardships, and~ lie, too, thinks a change would be agreeable. So lie rents the farm but he never feels like a man among mnen after. In later years when the farm has dleteriorated undter a succession of tenants andl has finally been sold for half its value, when the pleasures of clerical life have begun to p~all, Jack enviously thinks of the good 01(1 times on the farm, and wishes lie had not, beeni so cager to sell lus birthright. The man who removes with his fami ly to the village but who continues to superinitend the work on his farm or farms, is in a very different situation. For him life loses none of its interest. le has simp)ly enlarged his boundaries b~y mioving to town, and he has a sense of security in the thought that in ad versity there is always the farru to fall back upon. Some agriculturists claim, however, that no man can farm profitably at long range, that is, after lhe has ceased to reside on the farm. We are not pre pared to yield the p:oint in the face of so.Ie conspicuous examiples to the eon trary, but if we adlmit it for the sake rof argument the case against the farm or who abandons his farmi is the strong~er. Would it not pay better in the end to employ more help andi to provide horses to convey his children to and froin the high school and places of amusement, or better yet to send them to college, but keel) their home aind its association unchanged. A telephone is an easy and comparatively cheap vehicle of commiumeation which any farnmer who is rich enough to retire can well afford, and there are many Luxuries p)ossible to the farm home that, will not only make it tolerable to young peolc, hut attractive. Those who have had even a slight acquaint umce with fronitier farmers who usually Live five or ten miles from a railroad, will acknowledge thaimt among them were some of the most sociable People they ever knew, people who know how to entertain and be entertained. T1hie hospitality of the South in ante-belP .1m dlays, andl the social intercourse be twveen plantations many miles apari,, madle that part of our country famous. A social disposition will find opplor tunities oven on a farm and it seems a pity to exchange its independence and freedloml and the beautiful associations of a life so close to the heart of nature, for what often proves to be a more cramp~ed and less healthy existence in town. It is natural and right that the farm er who has satisfied his material ambitions should thenceforward de sire to take life easier, but there is a vast difference between resting and rusting.-Farmers' .Rcriew. Too rapid churning results in not of ftingall1 thn bnutte. in the mream. WINTER IN THIJ COUNTRY. It is not at all to be wondered at that ,he young people of the average coun ry neighborhood look forward to the bwinter with positive dread. The wri elr of this has experienced all the dis %greeable phases of this form of exist enco and he heartily sympathizes with the boys and girls who live in the coun try and have "nowhere to go and nothing to do." I have in mind in speaking of this clas9s, the .joys imld girls who have out-grown the district schools. School children do not feel the monotony of country life Bo much as their larger brothers and sisters. I would like t.o encourage the forma tion of a young people's society in every neighborhood. Let it include all the young people. Let it meet at the school house, or at private houses, as seens most convenient or advisable. Meetings held at a public place like tle school house are generally more systematic and business-like than those held at private houses. The latter, however, generally have more socabii ty about them and sociability is Ole of the things to aim at. There is hardly a country neighborhood where greater sociability is not needed. 'These meetings can run along a good many lines. in some places they will naturally take on the character of a singing-school or musical cluib. 1n others, they will be reading clubs, or debating societies. It is well to con bine some of the features of each, for by so doing variety is secured, and the interest is kept up as it seldom is where monotony and sameness previiils. Let each member follow out his or her bent of mind, and tius put a good deal of individuality into the meetings. Avoid formalit) as much as possible. Don't kill a society at its birth by a long constitution and set of by-haws. You don't need them. You wouldn't be governed by them if you had them. Therefore, don't bother your heads about them. I like the reading club very muich. I know of one that has run very suc cessfully for the last four years. It is called together, or re-organized, early each fall, and the money that its mnem bers can furnish to provide reading mat. ter is put into a general Iund. A list of magazines and papers is then made out and all classes of readers are pro vided for in making this selection, and as many are subscribed for as the fund will admit of. The club imeets once a week, aill through the season and each member takes part ini its exercises, ill alphabetical order. Oie reads a story; another a poem; some one else reads a a scientitic or historical article, or a sketch of travel. A fte tie reading there is a general and infornal dis cussion of wbat has been read, and this has been the meanms of' blinging out a great many good ideas I rmI- the mem hers an(] of great beieiit in expressing them. it gives conlfidence. It en courages thought. It obliges close at tention. It is excellent, trainin f for all who take part in it. At these meetings the papers and magazines subscribed for cie exchanged among the memibe s and in this way the young people of' this iieighborhood are able to avail themselves of a much wider range of gottd literature than would be piossible it they were confined to in dividual subscriptions, The young people of this comiumniiy stanid head and~ shoulders above some of the neigh boring communities, in an intellectual way, and this fact is (directly attribu table to its l eading club.-Wllisconsini Agricultur'ist. llaiw onions superinduce sleep, anid the French are fonmd of onion soul) for general (debility and stomach troubles. A persis tent cough Is at f ir st a r friend, for it gives wvarn ing of the ap proach of a deadly ene my. Heed the warning before it is too late, be fore y o ur[ l..u n gs be c om e in fa ebe fore the ~Idoctor says, "Consump tion."' Whent the danger signal first appears, help[ nature with S Don't delay until your lungjs are sore and your c~old settled down deep In your chest. Kill the enemy before the deadly blow kills yotu. Cure* One du.S brings relief. A few doses make the Thr". a~ .'l ter rn ordloaury cold ; 50c. tor the hasrt'er crIds ; $1.00 the tns "I -i' r ('W-rv r y 1 toral the I.watI eI.Iell fori efoilds n 11. It. LtiM NET I'ec. 20, 1898. U~nton. h. -V. 'te hel Dofozo. it vol hvny euinlnt lstover cd sa i~hiy recolvo. writo the doctor pr.o th'.1 'wl ostri v( s prompt ro. lin. .1. C. AYER, Lowell, 3148ss. MONEY TO LOAN On farmlrg landq. Imasy paymnente. No comnmiBemons charged. Ilortoijor pays ae tual cost of perfecting loan. Intereat 7 p)Or cent, up, according to eecurlty. JNO. B. PALIM El_ SON,