The people's journal. (Pickens, S.C.) 1891-1903, November 29, 1900, Image 4
#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,