The Bismarck Tribune Newspaper, July 17, 1917, Page 4

eon ‘caps en RE i BRC STOTT RS TBE Ro Te THE TRIBUNE Bntered at the Postoffice, Bismarck, N. D., as Second Class Matter. ISSUED EVERY DAY EXCE: I SUND. SUBSCRIPTION RATES PAYABLE ADVANCE Vv. Daily, by mail or carrier, month Peots 4.00 three months 1.25 Dally,” by mall ‘utside ‘of North |, 1.50 Daily, three months . t80 Deliots, ‘Weekly, by mail, per year. LOGAN PAYNE COMPANY Special Foreign Representative “NEW YORK, Fifth Ave. oN CHICAGO, Marquette’ Blag.; BOSTON, % Wint Be DETROIT, Kresge Bldg; MINNE- LI8, 810 Lumber Exchange. ‘Merober Audit Bureau of Circulation — ATE'S OLDEST NEWSPAPER THE STATES abished 1872) Saal WEATHER REPORT for 24 hours ending at noon, July 17: Temperature at 7:00 a. m. +» 6 Temperature at noon . Highest yesterday Lowest yesterday - Lowest last night . Precipitation .... Highest wind velocity Forecast. For North Dakota: Bic x — Fair tonight and Wednesday; warmer tonight in southeast portion; cooler Wednesday in west and north portions; Thurs- day probably fair. Lowest Temperatures Fargo 56 Williston Grand Fork Pierre ...- St. Paul Helena Chicago . Kansas City San Franicsco ORRIS. W. ROBERTS, 1 henat Meteorologist.’ ed f PLAS GLEE SELL OOS Stretching his hands out tu & catch the stars, he forgets’ the + flowers at his feet—Bentham. bo oeeeoesee ee JEWISH ‘RELIEF. Bismarck is responding loyally to the special relief for the Jewish war sufferers. Of the $3,000 quota as- signed to the capital city, practically half has been subscribed. This is an excellent cause and those who have taken no part in the relief fund con- tribution ‘should assist Mr. Rosen and his local committee. The Jews have suffered greatly in Europe, especially in Poland, Russia, Austria and portions of the Holy Land,which have not been spared the ‘Havoc of war and desolation.| Wealthy Jews in the United States ~have responded generously to the call for aid. ‘Millions have been disbursed through’ private channels, to aid this oppressed people. This is the first nation-wide appeal for Jewish aid. The men handling the funds are prominent in national affairs. Rabbis fromthe, various pulpits are devoting their ‘Vacations to touring the North- west in the interest of this worthy work. . Give as you can, for the cause is most worthy. Be a real I. W. W. Join the “I ‘Won't Waste” army. THANKS, TRIBUNE. The National Red Cross headquar- ters have taken note of the campaign conducted by the Tribune in ‘behalf of the Red Cross war relief fund. Henry P. Davidson, chairman of the war council sends the following letter to the Editor: Washington, D. C., July, 10, 1917. ‘okie eater, ‘O) BKe Tribute, Bismarck, N. D. " ‘ Dear Sir: + ¥ With Red Cross Week behind us and our faces turned toward ‘the great work ahead, one of the first things | want to do is to express _ to you our sincere appreciation of the assistance rendered ‘by your paper in helping the Red Cross. I have in mind particularly an editorial in your issue of June 16th, entitled, “Armies of Mer- cy,” which was most helpful. Your co-operation is of very great value in the work we ure trying to do. Yours sincerely, H. P. DAVIDSON, ‘Chairman, Red Cross War Council. MUZZLE HARDEN. One of the mysteries of this war “thas been Maximilian Harden, editor of the famous German Die Zukunft. When almost every voice in Germany was stilled or hushed, his alone was loudly proclaiming bitter truths to the German people. He dared praise Wilson's patient diplomacy. He dared scoff at the sub- marine war, saying that by offending America it was costing Germany dearly. He even dared to criticize the kaiser and his most trusted coun- cilors. At times his paper was suppressed, but after temporary silence Harden always came-forward, more boldly than before. Lesser men have gone to prison for less. His immunity has always been a German riddle. In the last years of nis life, after he had been dismissed from the post of chancellor by the present kaiser, mpithe great Bismarck was embittered. He bated “the young whelp” who had dared discharge the man who built the empire. He was lonely, the fate of fallen leaders, Then the young journalist, Hardén, became his friend, his fiery champion in the press. It has always been believed Bismarck imparted to Harden state secrets of a kind that have made the emperor afraid to handle him too drastically. There are more ways than one to kill a cat, more ways than one to silence even a Harden. It was not necessary boldly to suppress his pa- per or martyrize him in prison. All the desperate government did was to invoke the auxiliary civil service law. Harden has now ‘been .assigned to duty as a military clerk. Of course, as part of the military machine, he cannot edit a newspaper or criticize the army of which he is a minor unit. He will Jearn the bit- ter lesson that the kaiser will not tolerate having his people told the truth. Don't imitate the speeder who pleaded guilty and was freed ‘because he offered no excuse. Great truths, like great continents, can only be dis- covered once. HANG THE SPIES. Events today are proving no part of President Wilson's war message of April 2 is truer than this whig¢h he said of German spies: One of the things that have served to convince us the Prussian autocracy was not and could nefer be our friends is that from the very out- set of the present war, it has filled our unsuspecting communities and even our offices of government with spies, and set criminal intrigue afoot against our national unity of council, industries and our commerce. In- deed, it is now evident that the spies were here even before the war be-| gan.” These are the steps the United States is taking to stamp out the spies. Various government detective agen- cies are being grouped under one cen- tral secret service. More complete co-operation of United States secret service with that of European allies is being effected. All wireless ‘messages they can pick up, are being copied ‘by nayal vessels cablesmay ibe! enacted. ©!) publications for opposition to {he war. Hundreds of suspected persons are being kept under surveillance. Daily some are indicted, arrested, convict- ed, deported or interned. ; Speaker Champ Clark and other leaders in'congress now say: . Hang the spies as fast as they are caught. NONE TOO SOON. There is increasing evidence, that the president's embargo upon; Amert- |i can food shipments to neutral! trope} caine'none too 8d6n!" Indéed,/it came too late ly matiy months. The amount ‘of suaplies seeping into Ger- many: from the little countries is _sim- ply amazing. There is no ‘better ex- ample than Denmark, helpless under the Prussian tiger's paw. Danish cocoa imports have been over 50,000 tons during the war, while the early home consumption was 1,600 tons. Ten million pounds went from this country to Denmark in 1916 alone. Of course, the great ex- cess imported went to Germany. Not only is it a valuable and sus- taining food,:.‘but German chemists Jihave been ablé to extract fat needed for. explosives. a The imports of such things as ba- con, lard,.oleo »oil, cotton seed cake and linseed increased in some cases 72 times oyspthe. normal ante-war importation. The excess. went to Ger- many. . Cattle are hid to be going’ steadily to Germany at the rate of 8,000 to 10,000 head a week. They were éat- tened on fodder, every pound of which was imported. ‘A special train, called the milk train, is said.to leave Copenhagen every morning for Beriin. Fish and eggs are sent ‘in great quantities. The Germans have had the pick of the Danish horses. And, final suspicious circumstance —the ships of the big Danish Ship- ping company ‘between this country and Copenhagen have been absolutely. immune from submarine attacks. Those ships carried. foor..for Den- mark, and a goodly portion was tran- shipped to Germany. The Wilson embargo will stop this. When they realize what they are fac- ing, the Danes will make haste to keep every pound “of food at home. German soldiers will cease to eat not only American food, but Danish food also. Captain Murphy, head of the local Salvation Army, is leaving for a new field this week. He has done excel- lent work in Bismarck and a host of friends will regret his departure to a larger field. Captain Murphy has organized a band of merit. He has assisted largely in the - charitable work of the city and done much to make this‘a brighter place for the un- fortunate. The good will of Bismarck wishes him Godspeed and success. The man who agrees- with everyone is never asked for an opinion. our peace within and without, our}; and legislation for federalocontrol of}, Tie postoffice ts’ barring” humerous WATER, WATER- fi EVERYWHERE. SYNOPSIS.” ° Ep aS CHAPTER I—On a trip through the Eng- sh Cumberland country the breakdown of her automobile forces Louise Maurel, a famous London actress, to spend the night at the farm home of John and Stephen Strangewey: CHAPTER II—At dinner Loulse discov- ers that the brothers are woman-hating recluses, ‘5 : CHAPTER I1I—Next morning she dis- covers: that John, the* younger “brother, company, With hin, she explores the ObARD ob Sitio sot fe { CHAPTER IV—In a.talk with him she ig disturbed by his rigid moral principles and finds that his wealth has created ne desire for any other life than the simple one he is leading. She tells him her name and that she js the friend of the| prince of Seyre,’a rich and disreputable neighbor, ~ CHAPTER “V—Three months later, un- able to rid himself of.the memory of the actress and in spite of his brother’s pro-, tests, John goes to London. —= —: CHAPTER VII. The first few minutes that John spent in Louise's: little house were full of acute and vivid interest. The room that he was, so eagerly studying con- firmed his cloudy impressions of its} owner. Thene); was;; for, a ;wopan’s ‘apartment, a.curipus absence of orna- mentation and knickknacks, The,walls were black and white; the carpet was white; the furniture graceful in its outline, rather heavy in build, and cov- ered with old-rose colored —chints, There were water-colors upon the wall, some small black-and-white fantasies, puzzling to John, who had never even heard the term futurist..A table, drawn up to the side of one of the easy chairs, was covered with books and magazines, some Italian, a few English, the great- er part French; and upon a smaller one, close at hand, stood a white bowl full of pink roses, Their odor was somehow reminiscent of Louise, curl- ously sweet and wholesome—an @dor which suddenly took him back to the morning’ when she had come to him from under the canopy of. apple-blos- som. ‘His heart began. to. bent with pleasure even before the opening of the door announced her presence, She came in with Sophy, who at once seat- ed herself by his side. “We have been making plans,” Lou- se declared, “for disposing of you for the rest of the day.” John smiled happily. “You're not sending me away, then? You're not acting this evening?” “Not until three weeks next. Mon- day,” she replied, “Then, if. you are good, and the production -is not ‘post- poned, you may seat yourself in a box the fall of.the curtain. These are real holidays, for. me, except for the nul- sance of rehearsals. You couldn't have come at a better time.” Sophy glanced at the clogk. “Well,” she said, “I must! show my. Ttespect to that most ancient of adages by taking my departure. Ifeel—” “You will do nothing of the sort, child,” Louise interrupted. “I want to interest you in the evolution of Mr. Strangewey. We must remember that it is his first night in London. What aspect of it shall we attempt to show Pas recentiys come vintoia Aurge fortune. |, _| ticket. and make all the noise*you like after |’ haven't any clo. aat you seb me in.” os: fy. “Hooray!”) Sophy. exclaimed. © “Off with your smart/rown, Louise! We'll be splendidly Bchemlam You: shall ‘put on’your black’#yotk and <a black<hat, and powder. your nose, and we'll all go to Guido’s first and. drink vermuth.~ I can’t look the part, but I can act it!” “But tell ine,”" Louise asked him, “did you lose your luggage? 3 “I brought none,” he answered... |» * They both looked,at, him—Sophy:po- terested |: he afdiginer,s “Youimear.,”: Louise:'demanded, “that after waiting all (these ‘months you started away upon tmpulse like that— without even letting:your brother know or bringing any luggage?” my pocket when I had. bought my on, joining in the girls’ laughter, “that Mr. Appleton has been worrying «me for months to come up and talk over reinvestments, and take control of the money my uncle’left:me; and when I came at last, I,arrived like a pauper. He went out himself and: bought my shirt.” ey ment “And a very nice-shirt, too," Sophy declared, glancing at the pattern. “Do; tell us what elsé happened!” “Well, not much more,” Jonn re plied. “Mr. Appleton stuffed me full of money and made.me take a little sulte of rooms at .what- he called a more fashionable hotel. He stayed to lunch with me, and J have promised to see him on business tomorrow morn- Ing.” The two girls sat up and wiped thelr eyes. % Rake. “Oh, this is @ wonderful adventure you have embarked upon!” Loulse ex- claimed. “You have come quite in the right spirit. It is your first night here, Mr. Strangewey,-s0 I warn you. that Sophy is the most: Irresponsible and capricious of allmy trends.” Sophy.made a grimace. 4 “Mr. Strangewey,” she begged-ear nestly, ‘vou won't believe aword she says, will you?" All my life Ihave been looking for a single, and stead- fast attachment. Of course, if Louise wants to monopolize: you,,I shall fall into the background, as I usually do; but if you think that. am going to ac. cept hints and Iet you go out,to dinner jalone, you are; very mitch mistaken. Tonight, at any ¥ Tinsist upon com- ing!” : Louise ‘shook hit “We shall h: she told John je to put up with her,” ra little grimace. ‘Fhe door of m was suddenly opened. ‘The parlof.matd stood at one sides, & . “The prince madam,” she announced. Louise nodded, She was evidently expecting the visit. She ‘turned tb John. as “Will you come back an@ cali for us are not to bother about, your clothes, but to come just-as-youvare. I can’t tell you,” she added under her breath, “how much I am looking forward to our evening!” ; him? Don't say a word, Sophy. It is not for us to Choose.” fi “I'm afraid there isn’t any choice,” John_declared, his face falling. ‘F Sophy sprang to -her feet. “Won't you drop me, please, Mr. Strangewey?” she askel. “Then, if you will be so kind, you.can, pick _me up ‘Mtely. curious, Loulse aore deeply. in- 4 “That's exactly what I did,” John}! agreed, smiling, “I had a sovereign in! The joke of it was,” he went) here—say at seven o'clock? Mind, you | again on your way here.’ to pass where I live, if you are’at the Milan. I must go home’and-do mg lit- tle best to compete.” Louise’s frown .was so slight, that even John failed to notice it. Upon the: threshold they encountered the prince, who detained John for a mo- ment. “T was hoping that I might meet you here, Mr. Strangewey,” he said. “If you are-in town for long, it will give me great pleasure if I can be of any service.to you.. You are staying at a A staying at the: Milan,” John, | ied. calling upon you,” thé® prince’ con- tinued: “In the meantime, if you need! ‘any service ‘that a Londoner. can offer you, be sure to let me know. -You will easily. find my house in Grosvenor aquare..” 4 {. “It.is very kind of:you. indeed,” John said gratefully. 5 Sephy made a wry face as the prince entered the drawing-room. “Didn’t some old Roman once’ write: something about being id-o1 Greeks: fte?ah So a seth “Quite, night? J i [a “Well'be MAR a yised him. “That's all.” A John handed Sophy into the taxi and took his place beside her. 4 “Where shall.I put you down?” he asked. “It’s such a terribly low neighbor- | hood! However, it’s quite close to the Milan—10: Southampton. street.” John gave the address to the man, and they started off. They » were blocked in a stream of traffic almost as soon as they reached Hyde Park Gor- ner. John leaned forward all the time, immensely interested in the stream of pass@s-by. +-Your- interest’ in: your fellow -crea- tures,” she murm demurely, | “is Lwyondertul, -but..couldn’t; you; concen- trate it just a-little?” |, ‘ 29 He turned quickly around. : She was smiling at him most alluringly. Un- ‘| you have left» yourhills: behind ani {ooh whl: do° myselfene Tpleadure, of Ir rows J? You ike—that Is, If Loulse will come.” ‘ She Jooked up at him ‘quickly. “Isn't Louise going to Paris?’ she asked. : “Paris? 1 didn’t hear her say any- thing about it.” 3 “Perhaps {tis my mistake, then,” Sophy went on: hastily. “I only fancied that I-heard her say so.” There was a' moment's silence. John had opened‘ his lips to ask a question, but quickly closed them again. It was a question, he suddenly decided, which he had better ask of Loutse herself. “If, Louise goes to. Paris,” Sophy whispered disconsolately, “I suppose there will be no luncheon-party?” For, a‘ single moment he hesitated. She was very ‘alluring, and the chal- lenge in hag eyes was unmistakable. “¥-thinkg’ he said quietly, ‘that if .| Miss Maurel’ goes to Paris, I shall re- turn'to ‘Cumberland tomorrow.” » For a time'there was a significant silence. Then Sophy raised her veil once more and looked toward John. “Mr. Strangewey,” she began, “you won't, mind if.I give you just a little word of advice?, You.are such a big, strong ‘person; but you’ are rather a child, you know, in some things.” “This place does make me feel igno- rang,” he admitted. “Don’t idealize anyone here,” sie begged. “Don’t concentrate all your hopes upon one object. Love is won- derful and Ife is wonderful, but there {is only one life, and there are many toyes before one reaches the end. Peo- ple do such silly things sometimes,” she wound up, “just because of a little disappointment. There are many dis- appointments to be met with>here.” He took her hand in his, “Little girl,” he sami, “you are very good to me, and I think yeu under- stand, Are you going to let me feel that I have founda friend on my first J evening in Lomion "5 ' “If you want me," he answered sim- ply. ‘ “like you, and I want you to be’ happy here; and..beeause I want you to be happy, I. want you to come: dowh* pslencingiiat,.the, clock: itnwaasvery from the clouds: and remember that’ that we walk on the pavements her “Thank you,” he whispered, “and thank you for what you have not sat. If I am ta find sorrow here instead of Joy,” he added, a little grimly, “it is better for me to stumble into the knowledge of it by myself.” “Your hills have taught you-just that much of life,.then?” Sophy murmured, * * . s *. * s The prince.of Seyre handed his hat and stick to the parlor maid and seated himself upon, the divan. “I should be very sorry,” he sald po- itely, as the maid left the room, “if my coming. hasshastened the departure of: your visitobs” at HNob°in ‘thi'east” Loutsé adsured £9 ep hey were jleavii, Hiei ou, edthoutived,’ Sbphy aka Pare tak. Ling Mr. Strangewey to.a Bohemian res- taurant and a music ball afterward.” «“Fortunate:. Mr. Strangewey!” the prince sighed. ‘But, forgive me, why not.a more dignified form.of entertain; ment for his-first-evening?” i “The poor man has no clothes,” Lou- ise explained. “He came to’ London quite unexpectedly.” : “No clothes? ‘the prince’ repeated. is a long journey to take in such a A matter of urgent business, ronise hed sisen to her fepf.and was busy) rearranging .some. rosea.,tn |the bowl by: herhside. :, 8he crushed one of the roses {to ‘pleees ‘suddenly’ in her hands snd Shook the petals ffm her long, nervous fingers. ' “Today,” she said, “this afternoon— now—you have come to me with some- thing in your,mind, something you wish to say, something you are not sure how to say. ‘That is, you see, what Henri Graillot calls ‘my intuition. Even you, who keep all your feelings under a mask, can conceal very little from me.” “My present feelings,” the prince de- clared, “I do not wish to conceal. I would like you to know them. But as words are sometimes clumsy, I would like, if it were possible, to let you fee into my heart.” ara | She came. over. and seated, beraelf by his side. om.the divan, She ™ laid her hand.upon his arm. 1. “Eugene,” she expostulated, “we'are consciously ‘he found himse'f ‘smiling back again. A wonderful light-hearted- ness seemed to have céme to him dur- ing the last few hours. “I suppose I am a perfect idiot,” he admitted. “I cannot help it. Iam used to seeing, at the most, three ‘or four people together at a tfme. I can’t un- derstand. these crowds... Wheré are they all going? Fancy every one of, them having a home, every one of them struggling fm some form or an- other toward happiness!” : “Do you know,” she pronounced se- verely, “for.a, young man of your age You are much too serfous? I am auite yure you could ‘be nice‘tf.you wanted ‘0,” she continued. “How much are 70u in love with Louise?” . % “How much am I what?’ : “In love with Louise?” she repeated. *All the’ men are. It, ts aiperfect: cult’ lwith them. And here am'I,her humble yompanion and friend, absolutely ‘neg-| ected!” * x “I don’t believe you are neglected at: ’ll,”»he replied. “You are much too—"; ‘He’ turned his head to look at. her.) She was so close to him that their hats , collided. He was profuse in his apolo-j sles. ‘ “Too what?” she:whispered. “Too attractive,” he ventured. | “It's nice to hear you say so? she aighed. | She was unlike any girl John had ever known. “Her hair. was almost golden, her eyes a distinct blue, yet some trick of the mouth saved her face from any suggestion of insipidity. . She was looking straight into his eyes, and her lips were curled most invitingly. | “I wish I knew: more about certain things,” he said. “Oh, why didn’t you come before?” she exclaimed. “Fancy Louise never telling me about you. I hope you'll ask too old friends to talk always in veiled phrases. Thefé‘is something you have to say to me. You are displeased be- cause I have changed my mind—be- cause I feel that I cannot take that lit- tle journey of ours?” “You mean that you cannot now, or that you cannot at any time?” “1 do not know,” she answered. “You (sk me more than I can tell you. Some- dimes life seems so stable, a thing one ‘an make a little chart of and hang ‘p on the wall, and put one’s finger tere and there—‘Today I will do this, comorrow ¥ will feel that’—and the text morning.comes and the chart is n the fire:t/T' wish I-understood my- ‘elf: a: Tittle ‘better, Eugene!” { “T-pelieve. that Ianderstand you bet-. ver, far better, than you understand tourself,”(He declared. “That is why; U aldo belleve that I am inecessary to you.. T'can prevent your making mis- takes.” ® she begged. “Thea prevésit, me,” “Something has’ happened, and the chart is in the'fire today.” “You have only,” he said, “to give me: this: little hand, and I will draw || out a fresh one which shall direct to the place in life:which is best for you. It is not too late.” She.rose from beside him and walked foward the fireplace, as.if to touch the bell. ‘He watched her with steady eyes ‘but expressionless face. There was ‘something curious about her walk. The spring had gone from her feet, her ehoulders,were-a little hunched. It was the’ walk of a woman who goes toward the things she fears. “Stop I” he bade her. She turned and faced him, quickly, almost eagerly. There was a look in her face of the prisoner who finds re- spite. x me to lunch some time.” _“T_have_a luncheon: party. tomor- “Leave the bell alone,” he directed. “My own plans are changed. I do not “Eugene,” She Expostulated, “We Are Too Old Friends to Talk’ Always In . Veiled Phrases.” “Her face was suddeniy brMiant, her eyes shone. Something electric seemed to quiver through her frame. She al- most danced back to her place by his side, % “How foolish!” she murmured. “Why didn’t you say so at once?” “Because,” he, replied, “they have only been changed during the last few seconds. I wanted to discover some- thing which I have dtscovered.” “To discover something?” “That my. time has not yet.come.” She turned away from him.- She was oppressed with a sense almost of fear, a feeling that he was able to read the very thoughts forming in ‘her brain; to understhnd, as no one else if the world could junderstind,” the | things thae'lved tp her. Heat cei 117, must, not -Keep.s9ys,,-he remarked, Jates for, ame to: ¢all, and, you, wil be wanting! t:join your fstends.}:10% “They are coming here for me,” she explained. “There 1s really no hurry at all. We are’ not changing anything. It fs to be quite a simple evening. Sometimes I wish that you cared about things of that sort, Eugene.” He blew through his lips a little cloud of smoke from. the. cigarette which he had just lit. “I am not of the people,” he sald, “and Ihave no sympathy with them. I detest the bourgeoisie of every country in the world—my jown more particu- larly.” : _ “If you only knew how strangely that sounds!” she murmured. “Does it?” he answered. “You should read my family history, read of the then and women of my racg..who were butchered at the hands of ¢hat drunk- en, lustful. mob whom lying historians ‘have glorified. I'am one of'ttiose who do not forget injuries.” My estates are administered more severely than any others In France. “No penny, of my money has ever been spent in charity. I neither. forget nor. forgive.” 2 She laughed a little neryenaly, “What an unsympathetic person you can be, Eugene!” e “And for. that: very reason,” he re- plied, “I can be sympathetic. Because I hate some people, I have the power of loving others. Because it pleases me to deal severely with my enemies, it gives me joy to deal generously with my friends. That is my conception of life.. May I wish you a pleasant eve- ning?” : “You are going now?” she asked, @ ttle surprised. “When shall I see you again?” “A telephone message from your maid, a line written with your own fin- gers,” he said, “will bring me to you within a few minutes, If I hear noth- ing, I may come uninvited, but it will be when the fancy takes me. Once, more, Louise, a pleasant evening!” --He-passed out-of the door;-whicly t! 4payerimaid was-bolding epamyfor him] Crossing at, dow, Louise wate! reeMenyg tidhouse and enter his waiting; autemobile:; Hevgave no sign of:haste or disappointment. He Ut another cigarette deliberately upom the pavement and gave his orders to he chauffeur with some care. As the car drove off without his hav- ng once glanced up at the window, she shivered-a little. ‘There was a silence which, it seemed to her, could be more, ninatory even than accusation. . } (To be continued.) WOOL NETS $6 PER HEAD Park River, N. D., July 16—D. G. netted him $6 per sheep, more than the animals, wool and’ mutton com- bined, were worth a few years ago. REDUCING WHEEL, “ REPAIR EXPENSES The upkeep of automobile, carriage and wagon wheels in dry climates is enormous. This is ‘especially true where the old-fashioned mechanical method of tightening loose wheels is employed. .So the question of reduc- ing this repair expense is one that interests. every:vehicle owner. A few years ago a Californian dis- covered. a method of tightening loose wheels without-rethoving them or any Part of them. He compounded a li- quid preparation, which, when squirt- ed into the cracks caused by shrink- age at the hubs and felloes, quickly swells the wood and makes all the pene fit as tightly as when first join- This liquid is known as Spoktite and is sold in handy spout cans for easy use. Anyone can quickly tight- pase ae of wheel for within an ir after applicatic ie fectly tight. . Te ee The cost of tightening wheels in this manner averages 25 cents a wheel, the dollar can containing a sufficient quantity to tighten four. This is, indeed, a ‘big saving over the Price the mechanic would have to charge for his method. Spoktite has also been used ,suc- wish to leave London this week.” :+ céssfully in t] ‘ squeaks.” Gee bg Pear es is solely MacKay’s wool clip, sold in St. Paul,” yt wae