Bemidji Daily Pioneer Newspaper, February 21, 1907, Page 4

SAID TO RELIEVE ALL RHEUMATISM Fluid Extract Dandelion, one half ounce: Compound Kargon, one ounce; Componnd Syrup Sarsaparilla, three ounces. Mix by shaking well ina bottle and take in tea- spoonful doses after each meal and at bedtime. These in- ‘gredients can be obtained at moderate cost at any good prescription pharmacy, and, being composed mainly of ‘vegetable extracts, are harm- less and will not injure the most delicate stomach, This simple prescription is said to perform remarkable cures, in many cases of years standing. It has a peculiar effect upon the kidneys, assisting these most important organs to filter and strain from the blood the uric acid, uria, etc., which causes the pain and misery of rheumatism. [ Changes From a Fish to a Bird. ! The story of the .early life, transfor- mation and final death of the Chinese quail is the most remarkable that is found in the ornithological literature of the world. The narrative in all its un- reasonableness s found in the story of om chung, which is the name the Chi- nese quall is known by when at home in the Flowery Kingdom. Celestial au- thorities on bird lore declure that no specimen of om chung was ever known to live a year; that they do not lay eggs, as all other known species of birds do, and, finally, that their pro- genitor is a slimy, four jointed - worm, which has a red head and a sting on the end of its tail. This queer sc worm, according to the curious of om chung, lays 100 eggs annually. Fifty of these become fish and the oth- er fifty are worms of the § as the parent. The fish that Ls Into existence in this curious manncr also lays 100 eggs a y Fifty of these become water denizens after the image of their parent, and the others , or Chinese never breed, and are only brought into existence as above reluted. ‘We give the above not as a literal fact, but as a specimen of the Chinese idea of evolution. Blographies as n Stimulus. We cannot help living in some degree the lives of heroes who are constantly In our minds. Our characters are con- stantly belng modified, shaped d molded by the sugzestions which are thus held. The most helpful life sto- rles for the average youth are not the meteoric ones, the unaccountable oucs, the astonishing oues, like those of poleon, Oliver Cromwell and Jul Caesar. The great stars of the rac dazzle most boys. They admire, but they do not feel that they can imitate | them. They like to read their lives, but they do not get the helpfulness and the encouragement from them that they do from reading the lives of those who have not startled the world sc | much. It Is the triumph of the or- dinary ability shich is most helpful as an lInspiration and encouragement. The life of Lincoln has been an in- finltely greater inspiration to the world than the life of Napoleon or that of Jullus Caesar—O. 8. Marden in Suc cess Magazine. Bulldogs a Menace to Health. The bulldog is a menace to health. We have this on the authority of a noted French physician, who says that because of his large mouth the bull- dog Is a great purveyor of disease, es- pecially of consumption, diphtheria and the like, as the dribbling from the heayy, loose jaws Is Incessant. Those ‘who fondle bulldogs do so at a great risk. He traces many cases of in- fectious disease, especially among young children, to households in which bulldogs are kept as pets. When we add to this the Invariable ferocity of the beast, the danger to which children and other Innocent and defense! people are exposed whenever he roams the streets or highways, we have an argument in favor of his disposal that cannot be gainsald. Away with bull- dagsl ss He Held On. “In a town back in Vermont one time,” said a doctor, “a big, husky lumberman entered the office of a den- tist I knew and showed the doctor a bad tooth. The dentist decided that the tooth should be pulled. “‘All right,” said the lumberman. ‘But listen now. If I tell you to stop, you stop pulling or I'll beat you up.’ “The dentist agreed, and the lumbe: man got in the chair. The dentist took hold of the tooth and began pulling. Almost immediately the lumbermar yelled, ‘Hold on!" “The dentist continued to pull. ‘Hold on! yelled the lumberman. The dentist kept pulling, and the tooth came out. Then the lumberman jumped from the chair mad. “‘Why didn’t yon stop when I told you to? he asked fiercely. “‘You didn't tell me to stop, said the dentist. “‘T did too! twice” “‘Ob,’ said the dentist innocently, * thought you meant to keep hold of it “The lumberman believed him and cooled off.”—Denver Post. 1 yelled “Hold on!” %a By Honore Willsie Copyright, 1806, by C. H. Sutcliffe 1 Harvell lay in the bottom of his eca- "noe. The canoe was tied a few feet out from the shore, and the river, deep, powerful and mysterious, tugged at the frail little craft. But IHarvell did not heed the eall. The darkness was deep, yet luminous, with the promise of an early moon, and the night wind that swept from shoreward was sweet and heavy with the fragrance of blooming ed upwiard to the stars, keenly alive to the y of the sceme as if mind and ad not been given over for days to the problem which he had thrown himself into the canoe to solve. Final- Iy he rred restlessly and said half | aloud: “No. It's no use. I can’t do it. Sheis too fine and thoroughbred for a great, common born chap like me to marry. “MARGARET!” HE ORIED. And—no, even if she should be will- ing, which is an insane thought on my part, T've no right to let her sacrifice hersell. T'll stay until tomorrow and then plead busine 1d disappear.” | There was a little stir near the pier, as of the underbrush, then a woman's | voice, wonderfully clear and sweet: “Let’s sit here and wait for the moon | to rise. The bungalow is so close and hot ton 4 Harvell cht his breath. It was she. The voice 1 replied he recog- nized as that of his married sister, who vas chaperoning the bungalow party. “You haven't been yourself at all, Mar- garet, during the entire week.” | “I know it, Agnes.” The voice, with its tired note, was very touching, and | Harvell stirred restlessly. “I'm use- less to myself and every one else— one else,” she repeated, as if to herself. i “Oh, nonsense! Peggy, you are téo | fine and wholesome to talk so. I wish”— Agnes stopped as if not daring to go on. Margaret’s voice continued: “I want you to help me to steal off tonight, Agnes. I want to go home, and I may Jjoint the Westburys and go to Paris. The stage goes down at 9 and I am going to cateh it and steal off without a word to any one. Please, Agnes.” The perspiration started to Harvell's face as he strained his ears to catch Agnes’ reply. When it came he gasped: “Sometimes I think brother Paul is a fool!” Margaret's voice was stern. ‘““Agnes, I wish you would never mention Paul Harvell's name to me. I"— But her voice was growing too faint for the man in the canoe to distinguish her words, strive as he would. “They've started back to the bunga- { low,” he thought. “I am a cad to have | listened even thus much. But, anyhow, { I've lived up to the ad. T wonder | why I'm a fool"— Suddenly a realizing sense of Mar- | garet's words came to him. She was | going away, going within an hour, and all that he had been feeling for a year was unsaid. For a moment his stern resolve of the early evening was forgotten. Then he erect, every muscle te ress of feeling. “It’s bette id bitterly. “It's ss to begin to forget, if she nts to hear my name again.” He looked off toward the bank, then gave a startled exclamation. The pier had disappeared. His canoe was float- ing rapidly down stream, while his paddle safely locked in the boat- | house. “I must be almost on the rapids,” he | thought. With the thought the boat | turned the bend that had shut off the | sound of the falls and the canoe was | In the whirlpool. To swim was out of the question, for in the river here was | a m: of jagged rocks hidden in seeth- | Ing wat Almost instantly the canoe was broken and capsized. Harvell, dazed and bruised, clung to a project- ing rock that had wrecked him. Fight as he would with all the force of his | wonderful physique, he was dashed again and again upon the stones. Yet as he fought he was conscious of only | one thought: “I must get there. I must have just [‘nnc word with Margaret before she goes.” Then he gave a cry of remembrance. He, with the other men of the camping party, had been planning a footbridge e — Noblesj Birth neross the raplds. The week before with infinito toil they bad laid a single line of heavy planks on the projecting rocks from shore to shore. They were not yet fastened in any way, their heavy weight serving to balance them fairly well on the stones. The dark ness, not yet lighted by the moon, con- cealed the planks, but clinging des- perately with one hand Harvell felt about with the other and by rare good Iuck found a plank, wet and slippery with spray, on a neighboring rock. ‘With infinite toil he raised himself out of the water inch by inch until at last he crouched on the great stone and felt the teetering plank. Then on hands and knees he started for the shore. Blinded by sprays, the planks half turning so that he could only pause, struggling with rigid mus- cles for balance, Harvell erawled along the foot wide planks. And with each pause came new discouragement. Mar- garet would surely be gome. In a panic of haste he slipped and fought his way, now half in the boiling water, half on the slimy rocks, now again on the plankway, gaining toward his goal foot by foot. At last one final spring, and he felt again the solid earth be- neath him. Without thought of his dripping clothing he started on his half mile run through the woods to the bungalow. “If the moon would only come up!” he thought as he tore his way through the heavy underbrush. “If—If only I am not too late! I am going to tell her anyhow, just to prove to her that I am a fool. I suppose— Oh, here is the stage road!” On up the sandy road, his clothes half dry with his rapid pace, then with the great edge of the summer moon peering over the top of the pines, he perceived a dim figure standing by the roadside. The figure shrank back a lit- tle at the sight of the man storming up the road. Harvell passed. “Margaret!” he cried. “Yes,” answered quietly the sweet, clear voice that never failed to thrill him. “Margaret, why do you go?" Margaret, too surprised by his sudden appearance to be startled by his knowl- edge of her movements, made no reply. “Because,” Harvell plunged on, “I annoy you with attention, because I hang on your every word and glance, because I am an ordinary chap with ne ancestors, and you are the personifica- tion of culture and delicacy—is that it, Margaret?” “You have mno right to speak that ‘way, Paul,” said Margaret, in her quiet voice. “No, but isn’t that true?’ persisted Harvell. The moon was well above the treetops now. By its light he could see the look of pride with which Mar- garet drew herself up. “So you think me a snob? You know me well indeed!” “Know you,” replied Harvell miser- ably—‘no, I kuow nothing, except that I love you and that I can never hope to marry you.” There was a long pause. The sum- mer night was very fair around them. The girl before him seemed to Harvell a part of the wonder of the night. “You think, then,” said Margaret, “that I am too brainless to admire yot fine mind, your splendid physique? Being, you say, well born, I must be a snob.” Harvell drew a long breath. “Mar- garet,” he said, “will you marry me? Will you say yes, Margaret?” “Not until I have told you,” answered i the low voice, “that I was born and bred in poverty in the mountains of Tennessee, that I am finely born only as every American is finely born, and I am proud of it.” The sound of stagecoach wheels came up the road, but already the two figures were far up the path that led to the bungalow. Men Are Bizger Now. Until the sixteenth century armor developed in a logical way, its forms were governed by the necessities of war, and changes in it were the re- sult of practical experience and actual experiment on the battleficld. After the sixteenth century it became fan- tastic and meaningless, a gala costume rather than a harness. The greatest captains opposed its use, but the no- bles clung to it as a mark of distine- tion. After it was made bullet proof it became so enormously heavy that at the end of the sixteenth century it ‘was complained that gentlemen of thir- ty were even at that age deformed by the weight of their armor. In spite of the huge armors of Henry VIIL, of Anthony of Burgundy and of some oti- ers, the average size of the modern man is greater than that of the sol- dier of the middle ages and the re- naissance, If we can judge from the armor preserved in the museums of England and the continent, which are, with few exceptious, small and nar- row, especlally the leg and thigh pleces.—London Mail. The Ungainly “Mud Devil” A most curious, ugly and ungainly semi-aquatic creature is that which is known by the common name of mud devil or hellbender. The mud devil has neither the spiked tail, the horned head nor the cloven hoofs that are sup- posed to be the distinguishing marks of the evil one, but he is hideous enough to suggest all sorts of borrid dreams and nightmares, and on that aceount has been made more repulsive by the bestowal of his uneuphonious common name. He is not poisonous in any way, has no.horns or sting, but Is simply a mud devil because he is re- pulsively ugly. In general appearance his distorted and wart covered body is not exactly unlike that of a gigantic tadpole. His average length Is about elghteen Inches, but oceasional well fed individuals may exceed even two feet from tip to tip. He has a broad, flat head and a sharp, sawlike fin, running from the middle of the back b the tali, Lead Pencils, Pens, Holders, Ink Wells, Etc. Rubbor Stamps and Pads, Trial Balanoe Books, Rulers, Erasers, Kneaded Rubher Squares, Right She Was. .o~ “They tell me your husband draws a salary for sleepin’.” “Sure, that's right, Mrs. Clancy. He's a night watchman.”—New York World. Mlustrated Phrase. 4 Ty i it it e J‘l\u"A il 1% dl%fl-“l th, vl Going sgainst the grain—Chicago Journal. Pa Was a Lawyer. Teacher--What is the longest sen- tence you ever read, Bobby? sonment for life.—Cin- cinnati Comamercial Tribune. Business and Pleasure. Old Man—What ye Tommy ? Tommy—I want to build a snow house. 01d Man—Won't yer ma let ye? Tommy—Yes, but she wants me ter take de snow off de sidewalk ter build it wid.—Le: 's Weekly. cryin’ fer, In a Way. “The baby ees learning ze French, yes, madame.” “He’s learned the gestures anyway.” —Harper’s Weekly. A Setter. Natlalool Fountain Pens, Letter Copy Books, FARMER By FRANK H. SWEET Copyright, 1906, by Frank H. Sweet L& HAT'S your notion ’bout go- in’ to town, Sairy Farmer Lish Hopkins paus- ed at the door, his shoul- ilers still humping for a position inside the coat that was beginning to strain Beross the back. “Suit ye to a T, hey; wouldn’t it, Sairy ?” “Well, no. I don’t guess so today, Lish,” was the placid answer. “It's ben my bakin’ day, an’ now I've got to black up the stove an’ wash the floor. Ye’d have to wait too long for me to it ready.” “Oh, I don’t mean today!” with a grin. “I mean move up for good an’ all. Sell the farm an’ be town folks like the best o’ ’em. I'd go into busi- ness, an’ ye'd be so ye could have com- p'ny an’ see somebody most every day. I guess we could stand up straight with ’em, hey?” His wife gazed at him blankly for a moment, then dropped upon a chair, her favorite mode of expressing aston- ishment. a “Ye don’t mean”— “Yes, I do mean jest that! I've been thinkin’ on 't for consider’ble of a spell, an’ that letter from Hiram Pot- ter out west sayin’ he’d made $40,000 merchandisin’ clinched the rivets close up. I've been a fool, Sairy.” “I dunno, Lish. Folks round here say ye've done well.” “Well,” he snorted, with profound self disgust, “for farmin’ round here, mebbe. I've cleared off the mortgage an’ put $1,000 in the bank an’ got to- gether a pretty good head o’ stock, but I've been twenty years a-doin’ it, Sairy, twenty years, an’ I've worked like a dog sixteen hours a day an’ more. I wan’t goin’ to miss anything for lack o’ hard work. No, siree. An’ now there’s Hiram, who wan’t thought nigh so smart as me at school, an’ Reuben Smith, who keeps the hotel over to the Corners, an’ Nathan Taylor, who sells us groc'ries, an’ others. All of ’em have been wearin’ good clothes right along an’ takin’ money over their coun- ters in handfuls, an’ when there was offices an’ honors_to be given it was them as was went to.” He drew his cap a little lower down and his collar a little higher up and peered-at her through the narrow slit as though expecting some comment. “Suit ye to a T, hey?” he repeated. She nodded reflectively. “I dunno but ’twill,” she conceded. “Ull miss the chickens an’ butter- makin’, but they be work, an’, then, as ye say, I can see somebody most every day. N-no. I guessI won’t mind.” “Course ye won't,” he declared. “We'll be town folks an’ will have to put on our best bibs an’ tuckers every day. Ye'll set on a stuffed cheer talkin” to comp’ny an’ takin’in money, an’ in the evenin’s there’ll be a lot gathered round my store talkin’ politics an’ things, an” they won’t cost me a cent for entertain- ment, like visitors gener'ly do, but will be bringin’ me in more money.” “Ye don’t suppose there’d be no hitch ’bout—bout ye doin’ it, Lish?” she in- quired. “Hitch ?"—indignantly—“when Hiram an’ Reuben an’ Nathan have all done it an’ made money! Well, I guess not. But I'll go an’ look round some. Folks in town are gener’ly pretty keen scent- ed on money, an’ if they git wind o’ my needin’ a house to live in an’ a store to merchandise in they might think rents ought to be a little higher. Tl Jook round sort o’ casual. But ye're sure ye favor the idee, Sairy? I don’t ‘want to go into nothin’ that ye couldn’t smooth down to.” “Oh, T'll like it all right,” she said placidly. “Pm sure to. Ye needn't bother ’bout that, Lish. I've always hankered to shop without climbin’ in an’ out a waggin. Ign too hefty. An’ say, Lish,” raising her voice as he opened the door and let in a rush of alr and whirling snow, “be sure an’ beat ’em down some.” It was late in the evening when he returned, but from the way the wagon rattled by the house and the unneces- sarily loud “Whoa!” which came to her ‘when it reached the barn she felt that something momentous had happened, and this feeling was 'made a certainty ‘when Lish flung open the door and she saw him trying to straighten his face into an expression of indifference. “Supper ready, Sairy?” he demanded airily. “I swan, I'm most starved!” “Ye know it's ready, Lish,” she said quietly. “It always is at 7 to a minute. You know it's been gettin’ cold jest an hour an’ a half. So ye've hired a place?” “Ye ain’'t wuth a cent for news, Sairy,” he grumbled. “Ye either scent it out miles ahead or take it all for granted. I'd as soon have.a stick to tell somethin’ to. How’d ye know I've hired a place?” “Goodness land,” scornfully, “it's stickin’ out dll over ye, Lish! I knowed it by the way the wheels went round swhen ye went by.” “Don’t suppose the wheels told ye ‘what place I hired an’ how much I'm to pay an’ when we’re goin’ to move?” he asked. “No,” she confessed, “exceptin’ they said ye was consider’bly set up, an’ I figgered from that ye'd got the old drug store stand. That's the biggest store in the best part o' the town, an’ it s the only one I know on as bein’ empty just now.” “What kindof a dog Is that, my | Lish chuckled. boy?” “Wheels are mighty onreliable things “Its a setter. Can't you see him {0 80 by.” e declued, “thongh I did wet?” sort o’ casual ’bout that very iden- Paper Clips and Fasteners, Get Your Office Supplies at the Bemidji Pioneer Office Most Complete Stock West of Duluth Blank Books, Ledgers, Journals, Etc., Stationery, Christmas Stickers, 1907 Diaries, Typewriter Paper, Scrap Books, Legal Blanks, Copy Holders, Calendar Pads. Doeument Files, Note Books, Time Books, Scale Report Baoks, ®a tical store, But, law, they wanted $00 & month for it, much as I'd‘think the Pplace could be wuth for a whole year. 1 jest laffed. Then I found Wood & Co.’s dry goods store would be empty the 1st of April, an’ I went an’ looked that over. The drug store folks said their place bein’ on the corner made it valuable, an’ as Wood & Co. was right In the middle of a block I figgered it might be cheap enough to wait for till April. But I didn’t look round much. ‘When they said $50 I jest turned an’ walked off,” He stretched himself more comforta- nbly across the chairs and chuckled again, “Good thing, though,” he went on re- flectively. “It set me to lookin' round. Now I've got the nicest, quietest an’ best place in the whole town. ‘cordin’ to my notion. There's big shade trees | right in front, an’ there ain't no rush an’ rumblin’ o' people an’ waggi Customers van come in an’ go out easy | an’ comfortable-like without no dan- ger o’ bein’ run over nor nothin’. We <can almost make believe we're livin’ in the country, Sairy, an’ the best of it is I only pay $10 a month. Deacon Rounds wanted §15, but I beat him down to $10. Ye see, he built the place two years ago an’ has never been able torent it.”” “Deacon Rounds’ store. consider’able way out?” “Only three streets. Buyers 'l be glad to come that fur jest for the quiet an’ comfort’bleness o’ the place. Why, ‘we have to go eight miles for our gro- c'ries an’ things. No; it's a bargain, Sairy. Squire Brow: the farm an’ stock jest as they stand for $3,500. He'll be out tomorrow with the papers. Then we’ll move right off. I want to open the store next week.” Her eyes widened a little at this. “But ye ain’t got no stock nor noth- In’ yet, Lish,” she said. He rubbed his hands gleefully. “That's all fixed, too, Sairy,” he beamed. “I dome a gist o' bizness up there. Some folks 'd "a’ took two days for it an’ then thought themselves smart. I had fig: to the city an’ mebbe payin’ as much as $25 for car fares an’ expenses that wouldn’t turn me in a cent, but a feller that was showin’ samples to Mr. Wood follered me out, an'—an'—well, he got the whole thing from me an’ is comin’ down next week: to show us samples.” “I gpose ye talked it over with Nathan Taylor fust?” she asked. “He’s done bizness there the heft o’ his life an’ couid tell ye consider'ble. An’ he's your own fourth cousin an’ a school- mate.” Lish snorted. “Nathan Taylor! Huh! Don’t s'pose he’s goin’ to encourage opposition, do ye? I did speak to him a little, an’ he Ain’t that advised me to take the drug store ; stand; said it was at the best part o’ the bizness street an’ on a corner an’ that the extra trade would pay the big rent a dozen times over. The idee! I seen in a minute what he was arter. Long's I was bound to go in, he felt the faster I rushed through the money the quicker I'd git out. Why, jest one year's rent would take half a quarter of all we've got! An’, more’n that, he said I'd better be pretty careful how T left things to them drummers an’ that ; I ought to go up to the city an’ hunt round through the stores fer jest the things I needed an’ the best prices. But he didn’t say a word ’bout the $25 or more expenses that wouldn’t turn me in a cent. Oh, no! He even hinted T'd better hire a bright young man ‘with experience to help in the store.” The next week the drummer was as prompt as his word and came down with an extensive assortment of sam- ples. An entire day was spent with him in the big, empty store, which Salry had swept and scrubbed with her own hands. At first they were delib- erate and circumspect in their buyings, Sairy being for ordering a dress pat- tern from this and that, a few yards of one ribbon and another, a piece of braid or a cake of fancy soap, and Lish for breaking dozens and dividing the boxes and packages. But after the drummer had repeatedly assured them that they ‘were purchasing to fill a store and not for their own immediate necessities for a few months ahead they grew bolder and yet bolder, and finally, when a pas- slon for buying had begun to possess them, they ordered from everything shown and toward the end recklessly. After 1t was all over and the drummer had left they drew long breaths and looked at each other curiously. “We've bought a sight, Lish,” Sairy. faltered. “I should say so,” rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “More'n was ever put: into a store at one time before, T guess, But It’s bizness,” brightening up some, “As the feller said, we can’t open al store with a yard o’ "lastic.”” AT FIRST THEY WERE DELIBERATE IN ARG BUTTRGR. ¢ 2o el Rubber Bands, Letter Files, Invoices, Typewriter Supplies, Postal Scales, Township Plats in book form, Fine quality colored Blotters, Letter Copy Presses, Waste Papyer Baskets, Rubber Type Outfits, Staplers, Paper Knives, & s goin’ to take | red on havin® to go ! llnr- life anyway.” “INO, 1 §'pose Dot. But Now muen ao | ye think we got, Lish?’ her face still | anxious. “I dunno,” he confessed slowly, “an’ ain’t even an idee. I tried to go slow at first an’ keep count, but I got off the track. Mebbe a thousand, two thou- i sand, three thousand, though ‘tain’t likely so much as the last. We've nev- i er bought more'n $20 or $30 worth at a time before, an' it's hard to guess. But $2,000 or $3,000 is good for & mighty big pile o stuff.” The second day the goods came down | in boxes and barrels and kegs and bun- dles and in great square cases that re- quired two men to roll from the freight platform into the wagon. Lish hired a team and a man to help and did all the i hauling himself. The next morning the bill came. Lish opened and looked at it eagerly, ! then drew a long breath and rubbed ! his eyes and looked at it again. He zed his cap and jammed it vi- upon his head and left the store. The village bank was upon the principal street, and the cashier was an old friend. It was upon this bank {that Squire Brown had given him a check for $3.500. The cashier happened to be alone. { By this time Lish had regained con- trol of himsell. Siipping the oice jinto his pocket, he drew out the check and placed it in the cashier’s window. “I'd like that cashed, Mr. White,” he said, “an’ 1 want to borry $600 more. Ye know I'm good for it, an’ anyhow ; there'’s stock enough in the store.” i “Oh, that's all right, Mr. Hopkins,” laughed the cashier. “I never knew ! the time when your word wasn’t good , for $600. But how happens it you need more just now? You were telling me the other day that you only intended to put half the money into goods now and hold the rest as a reserve.” Lish grinned ruefully. I guess I wan't much used to buy- in',” he confessed. “Look here.” He produced the invoice and spread it out in the window. The cashier look- ed it over curiously. “I dow’t know much about this line of gocds, Mr. Hopkins,” he said at length, “but it seems to me there’s a good many things here that won't find much sale. Now, this six dozen door- bells, for instance, “The drummer said they were good rs,” ventured Lish. “Well, perhaps they are,” acquiesced the cashicer. “Of course I don't know. But about the $60. If I were you I wouldn't hire the money just yet. Drummers “have prices that are sup- | posed to cover a generous system. Didn’t your man say anything about it?” “He said I could have thirty or sixty days’ time jest as well’s not, but I told him I'd ruther pay cash.” “Very good, provided you have the money to pay and also provided he al- {lows you a fair discount for paying it. { You'd better wait and find that out. Send the firm what money you have and let the six hundred go until the drummer comes round again. You may take in enough by that time to pay him. At any rate, find out his discount for cash, and, if it's more than our interest, come to mo. { and I will let you have the money. Only { don't hire unless you're obliged to.” ! One morning a few weeks later Nathan i Taylor entered the store. Lish was look- ing over his account book, kept with a ! lead pencil in much the same manner as he had jotted down items while on the farm. Sairy was at another counter, en- ! gaged in rubbing her hand back and forth | across a new piece of velveteen which had ' ) 4 | Just been taken from the case. Nathan said, “Good morning," and then paused and glanced critically about the store, with evident disapproval in his eyes. “You've done just what I was afraid of, Lish,” he said, at length, “‘A third of the goods won't sell in all the world. That fellow was too slippery and has loaded You With a lot of unsalable stuff.” Several times during the spring and summer Lish was sorely pressed for money, and more than once he started to the bank, but each time he turned back before reaching there. Rut the end did_not come until anothec winter, just one year from the time he had left the farm. Then one day a tall, strongly built man in a heavy coat strode into the room. “Elisha Hopkins, I suppose?” he inter- rogated. “Yes. What can I do for ye?" The man did not answer. Taking a pa- per from his pocket, he unfolded it delib- erately and read in a slow, ponderous volce for several minutes. Then he looked at the startled figure behind the counter. “Going to pay it?" he asked. “Can’t jest now,” Lish answered weak- 1y. “T suppose s0.” He walked to the coun- ter and held out his hand. “I may as well take the key,” he said. Lish nodded toward the door, from the lock of which the key had not been re- moved. The sheriff went and took it out and then held the door open significantly. Lish realized that it was for him to go out. How he stumbled across the room and out into the snow and across the yard | to his own house he scarcely knew, ‘only that it was a feeling of thankfulness that Sairy had not happened to be in the store. She was beading over the stove when he red and sank heavily into a chair. “Goodness la she exclaimed, sud- denly straightening up. matter, Lish?" i “Nothin' "—drearily—"only the sheriff's the store an' shet me on the out- { “What is the “What?" She came quickly to his side {and piaced a hand upon his shoulder. “For money?"” “Yes; twelve hundred.” “An’ can't ye pay?” “No. An’ if I could there’s most an- other twelve hundred that'll be asked for €oon ’'s this Is known. Mebbe I could | ralse it all to the bank”—slowly—“but I { dunno 's T want to. I'm gettin’ tired o' the whole thing.” “But the goods are wuth more'n what we owe, ain't they?” 7 {_"Twice as much, 'cordin’ to what we paid, but there ain't no knowin' what they'll fetch to auction. Not more'n enough {0 pay the debts mebbe.” down at_him. “The man Squire Brown rented ou farm to hds moved away,” she sald at last hesitatingly, T hear the squire wants to rent ag'in." Lish looked up quickly. “An'—an’ wouldn't ye mind goin’ back, Sairy?” he asked. “Mind?” she asked. “Oh, Lish, I never 4id really want to leave the farm!" He rose sturdily to his feet. . “Then we'll go back,” he declared. And there was something that was almost gladness in his face. “I know how to run | & farm, an' tryin’ to keep a Store 's & She was silent for some minutes, looking