Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, April 23, 1904, Page 8

By Tom Gallon coOcooco an KA Woman of Cratt CHAPTER V.—(Continued.) “You won't find they go together as a rule,” said Mrs. Tapney. However, I’m glad you're pleased, Daniel. That's a er looking coyple over there,” she pered, leaning across the table rard her husband. ke ourselves—Bohemians,” said the professor. I shouidn’t be a bit surprised; 1 will endeavor to get acquainted with them. They may understand some- ng about the country and the local hods of bird-catching. My dear lom, always remember that you an’t learn too much.” “Zt might have been better, my love, if you hadn’t learnt quite so much,” ! Mrs. Tapley, with a sigh. dear,” said the professor, “it 10t to be avoided. My brain was nd to be fed.” “Do you think cheese is the best for it?” asked Absalom, as he ed his father helping himself 1 goodly portion. “Under the circumstances, said Prof. Tapney, sternly. n their modest supper had been ncluded the professor approached i man and the girl at the far- of the room. Waggling his yes,” great head at them, he advanced, with hands under his coat tails, and d genially. You will pardon me, sir,” he said, student of Nature and as a man eneral scientific way—you will me for presenting myself, my d my son to you. We are veling—er—for ° pleasure; in the idst of a busy life we find ourselves ure to observe Nature and to her Your daughter, I pre- od full at the professor. ne said. “My father and [are veling in this poor fashion,” she ed, with a smile, and witha glance nd the room, “because money is e and we have far to go. We e walked from Southampton.” extraordinary exclaimed the professor. “My love, my dear’ Di ena, do on hear this? This lady and —her father (permit me to present I wife and my only: offspring)— the good people have actually trav- cled from Southampton as we have You look tired, my dear,” said Mrs. Tapney, dropping her hand tenderly on the girls shoulder and smiling into her face. “You are not rt of work. How far made for tk er ou going t much farther now,” replied the , wearily. “It has seemed a long way, bul we are near the end now.” “How far are you going?” asked Mrs. Tapney again, seating herself be- side the girl “Into Surrey,” was the reply. We are going to a village called Haw- Very strange thing,” said the pro- fessor, with one of those sudden changes of mind which characterized him. “Surrey is the very county for me; I have heard its fauna most high- ly spoken of, and I believe there is a wildness about it that promises well for the art of taxidermy. We will go with you.” { “\ye would prefer, sir, said the old man, speaking with a strong, strange accent, “to travel alone. No offense meant, sir, or to-you, madam; but our fbusiness is such that we are best alone. And we start early to-morrow. ‘It is our last day on the road, t ‘think.” “My dear sir, I would not obtrude f for a moment,” said the pro- , airiiy. “It only struck me, as Yellow traveiers on the great road of lite, we might, perhaps, journey a lit- tle way together. But no matter.” “Grace, we are best alone, I think,” «said the old man, in a low voice. “Yes; best alone,” said the girl. It happened, however, that they were destined to travel together after ‘all; for aithough, when the professor partook of breakfast in the morning before starting out again, he heard that the strange pair had started at ght on their way, his own smail party came up with them at nightfall. It had been a hot and heavy day, and walking had been hard and difficult. Nevertheless, the professor had walk- ed on manfully, mile on mile, with scarcely a rest, enlivening the way by dilating onsthose shadowy plans he -had concerning the future. Only at nightfall, turning a corner of the road, the three of them came upon the strang pair they had seen the night be- fore at the inn, and came upon them, too, at the moment of a crisis. The girl had evidently fainted at the side of the rgad, and the old man was kneeling beside her, wringing his hands and calling her by name. “Grace!—don’t give up now!. Over miles of land and sea we have come until we are within sight of the end of the jourrey. To-night the real Grace Yarwood comes into her own; she must not fail now.” Kindly Mrs. Tapney, hurrying for- ward, began to perform such feminine offices as were necessary; Absalom, at the instigation of his energetic father, set his long legs in motion and dart- ed down the hill in’ search of assist- ance. He returned in a moment or two “Students of Nature, | CelacocsesoooosEooooooooooo to,say that he could see lights a little off the main road below them. _ “We will seek the lights; we will obtain shelter,” said the professor, briskly. “If you, sir,” he added, ad- dressing himself to Enoch Flame—“if you will support the young lady on one side, I will endeavor to do so on the other. Lights, you said, Absalom? This is indeed an adventure; this is what I was born for.” So they went down the hill—Enoch supporting the girl on one side, and the professor, with his great head waggling, supporting her on the other —and, guided by Absalom, plunged down among some trees and entered what seemed to be a sort of rough gipsy encampment. The professor at the first sight of it chuckled with de- light. “My love,” he exclaimed, turning to Mrs. Tapney, with a beaming face, “in touch with Nature at last!”..- CHAPTER VI. Lydia Tells Fortunes. Grace opened her eyes upon a ¢u- rious scene—curious, that is, after the first moment or two. For it happened that the first thing she saw was the professor squatting upon his haunches with his huge head on one side gazing at her with much concern. Her head lay upon the ample, kindly bosom of Mrs. Tapney, and the arms of that lady were about her. Standing up- right, in the light of a fire upon the ground, was Enoch Flame, with arms folded, looking from under his shaggy eyebrows down at her. The curious scene upon which Grace’s eyes were fixed when she came to consciousness was behind the professor. First, a fire made upon the bare ground, with a, great pot slung over it on a tripod of three sticks; beyond that the dark outline of some rudely fashioned tents; and beyond those again a caravan or two and some carts. The flickering fire lighted up a circle in the heart of the night, and beyond that circle were to be seen the shadowy forms of trees, gradually merging into the darkness. “Ah,!” exclaimed the professor, with a sigh of satisfaction, as Grace opened her eyes. “Never have I seen a lady smile upon me—if Mrs. Tapney will excuse the expression—with so much pleasure as at this moment. Do not move; the breast against which you lean has ever been a refuge for those in sorrow or in need. Let me assure you further that you are with friends; and that you are, furthermore, in the great and splendid Republic of Bo- hemia.” “It might be better, Daniel, if you didn’t exercise your brain so much when anybody is in a weak state of health,” suggested Mrs.° Tapney. “Your words always seem to want a lot of digesting, somehow, my dear. It’s all right,” she added to Grace; “he’s®not anything like so wicked as he looks in this light; he’s the mildest of men. Rather lucky we found you, wasn’t it?” “f must have fainted,” said Grace. “It has been a long, long way, and the road seemed endless. Where are we?” “In the most romantic fashion, my gear young lady,” broke in the pro- fessor, “we have dropped into the heart, as it were, of a gypsy encamp- ment. I was on the point of observ- ing to Mrs. Tapney—that is Mrs. Tap- ney against whom you are leaning; a woman in a thousand—I was just ob- serving, or about to observe, to Mrs. Tapney that we must be prepared to lie down, locked in each other’s arms, by the roadside, to wait with a child- like faith until those birds which re- fuse to be stuffed should covet us with leaves, in a sudden accession of very unbirdlike remorse, when we found you, and found this place. Here are people,” he added, “who have ap- parently taken a short lease of the establishment, for a day or two, who will explain more fully where you are and who they are, and all about it.” Out from the shawods a group of figures was advancing—a picturesque enough group, in the flickering light of the fire. First came a tall, elderly woman, clad in black, and with a bright-colored ? handkerchief draped about her throat, and with her fine gray head bare to the night. Walk- ing beside her was a tall man—elderly like herself, and with a face that would have been ‘handsome but that the eyes were deep set and were rath- er too close to a long, thin nose, which came down. too far over a straight mouth, with thin, bloodless lips. The face itself ended in a weak, undetermined chin. For the rest, the man was tall and strongly built, and of that swarthy complexion which showed clearly enough the race to which he belonged. -Out of the rest of the group might be singled two other figures; that of a young, girl with dark hair, ‘massed about a low, broad, white forehead, and with dark eyes shining out from a face which, in that uncertain light, might have been the face of a fabled wood-nymph, so wild and strange, and yet so delicate was it. The other fig-' ure was that of a young man—scarce- ly more than a boy—whose dark eyes at once the brother of the girl; he had an ‘arm’ about her shoulders’ as they came forward into the light. “Well, what’s this?” asked the elder man, as he stopped before the way- farers. ‘“Can’t honest. gipsy folk set- Ue down anywhere these days without intruders comin’ along—folks that ‘aven’t no right—” “Be quiet, Neal,” broke in the wom- an, sharply. “You'd turn your own . flesh and blood out into a storm if it served you.” i “Aye, an’ why not?” retorted the | man. “It’s precious little I’ve ever got out of my own flesh an’ blood, that I should be so mighty particular about them. What’s to do ’ere?” As Prof. Tapney stood up, with a bow, to explain the circumstances, the young girl released herself from her brother’s arm and came forward quick- ly toward Grace..stopped, shyly for a moment, and th&, bent down towards her. < “My dear fellow-Bohemians,” said the professor, taking off his hat, and revealing the startling ‘effect of his cranium, “in the name of Mother Na- ture this is not an intrusion. The fields wherein, hadI not been born in London, I should have sported my youth—they belong to us all, who choose as I have done, to embrace Na- ture. We are wanderers, and we have no money.” “Then you're no good to us,” said the man, with a surly laugh, as he’ turned away. . Meanwhile the girl had assisted Grace to rise, and had been whisper- ing encouraging words to her. Rapide ly and earnestly, and yet, it seemed, without any hurry, the gipsy girl had darted to her mother, had whispered something to her, and had gone swift- ly back to Grace. In a few minutes Mrs. Tapney and Grace and the girl had disappeared in the direction of the tents. But it has to be recorded that, as Grace moved slowly and pain- fully away, she came for a moment, in the full light of the fire, face to face with the young gipsy, who was evi- dently the brother of the girl. Only a moment—just sufficient to allow him to pause before her and then move aside; but sufficient, also, for the quick blood to spring into his face and die it crimson. Then she was gone, and the boy stood in the fire- light gazing after her. It may be said that the idea is wild and impossible; | put, just as surely as the lad stood there gazing after her, so surely did he know that something had entered into his being, never to be taken from it while life lasted; just as surely did he know that this tall, fair, blue-eyed girl held his life, and was to mold it as she would. The professor, meanwhile, was in- nocently enough plunged into the midst of an: altercation. Strength. ened by the fact that Mrs. Tapney had, in a sense, been taken to shelter, the professor determined that he would not be ousted; and in this de- termination, curiously enough, he was supported by the woman who had come out with thé man to meet them, “T tell you,” said the man, looking at him with an evil face over a hunch- ed shoulder—“I tell you we want none of you ’ere. What’s the likes of you doin’ wanderin’ about the country? Tell me that.” “Students of Nature, my good man, merely students of Nature, and birds of passage. Worn and spent with a long day upon extremely uninteresting roads, we see, as in the story books, cam fires gleaming in the distance; necessarily we come to the camp fires. “Pardon me,” he added quick- ly, “did I introduce my son? My only son—Absalom.” “I, don’t want you or your son,” said the man, with an oath. “Leave us to ourselves and go your ways.” (To Be Continued.) ad ay Mansfield—Is He It? A little band of “art enthusiasts” assembled up in Paul Wilstach’s office in'the New Ansterdam theater a few days ago. The subject under discus- sion was actor managers. Argument waxed rife as to whether or not Amer- ica really possessed any men justly entitled to that designation. Some one, more in jest than in earn- est, finally hurled the question: “Is Richard Mansfield an acting manager?” To which Paul, with becoming dig- nity, immediately responded: “To be sure he is, for he manages to act, while he manages, and manages while he acts.” There was no further discussion and the meeting promptly adjourned.— New York Times. How It Was Done. “Yes, she used to keep the audience waiting in the most provoking way,” said the manager, “but we oured her of it) * “How?” “Why, she prospered so that she engaged one of those solemn English butlers that mee you feel uncomfort- able every minute of the time. She didn’t dare keep him waiting, even to serve breakfast, so we put him in a front seat at the show. When she sees that solemn, impassive face, she knows things have just got to be on time or there’ll be'no joy in life.” : A Recipe From the Forest. When the oak leaf is the size of a squirrel’s foot, take a stick like @ crow’s bill and make holes as big as a coon’s ear and as wide apart as fox tracks. Then plant your corn, that it may ripen before the chestnut splits and the woodchuck begins his win- ter’s sleep.—Century. Stock. Miss Gaysett—I believe they come of good old New England stock. Mr. Ticker—Yes? Common or pre- ferred ?—Puck. Slow Progress in Butter-Making. In the middle west we have four states that are particularly notea for dairying, Iowa, Minnesota, Wisconsin and Illinois, said Prof. G. L. McKay in an address. Iowa, Minnesota and Illinois are especially adapted for but termaking, Iowa being the banner state, as more butter is made here than in any other state in the union. This hag the effect of making us rather boastful; in fact, it is a com- mon thing to hear some of our public men eulogize this state so much that we sometimes overlook what they are-doing in other states. It is true that we have things to boast of, but when we approach the question of milk production, we find that,we have not kept abreast of the times as com- pared with the advancements made along other lines of agricultural pur- suits. In the year 1830 it required 17%c worth of labor to produce one busbel of wheat. In 1896 it required but 3%c. In 1850 the average time required for producing a bushel of corn was four and one-half hours. Take up the pro- gress that ‘has been made in the horse business. Not many years ago a three- minute horse was considered quite a novelty; to-day a three-minute horse ranks nothing better than a good driver. When we speak of a fast horse now, we look for a two-minute horse. See the great progress that has been made in the beef business, good sires selling way up in the thou- sands. What do we find in the dairy business? The average of our state, 140 pounds of butter per cow, in this enlightened age. We certainly have nothing to boast of in such’a record as this. It is true that we have some herds in the state that are averaging over 300 pounds per cow. There is no reason why every dairyman in the state should not strive for a herd of this kind. When we get such herds we will hear no complaints that dairv- ing does not pay. The rapid increase in the price of land during the last»five or six years makes it necessary that farmers must farm more intelligently than they have ever done before. Economic problems must be studied more carefully if wo expect to get adequate returns from the money invested. We have a coun- try as well adapted for dairying as any in the world. Our soil is rich, our climatic conditions are good, and we have an abundance of grass and pure water. In connection with this we have a progressive, intelligent people. Nevertheless, we must admit that we are producing milk just about as ex: pensively as we did twenty years ago. Dairy Equipment. The care which is given to milk or the farm where produced, whether it is to go to a milk market or to be made into butter or cheese, with the location, construction and arrange ment “of dairies or milk rooms, their equipment and management, show great variety and lack of uniformity in every country, says Henry E. Al vord. The sood, the bad and the indiffer- ent are common to all. Good milk rooms, well located, thoroughly built, shaded, cool and.well kept are not hard to find in any dairy district. Con- struction is heavier and more durable in Europe; convenience and ease of management are common in America. Excepting Denmark and Sweden, no country compares: with America in the general appreciation and use of cold water and ice in the care of milk. The almost entire absence of re- frigeration in France and the general ignorance of the value of cold in dairying is truly astonishing. In the matter of dairy appliances and equip ment the United States is surpassed by no other country, although Den- mark and parts of Great Britain stand about as well. > Washing Milk Cans. The washing of milk cans is not so easy as it sounds, if the cans are to be made clean. The usual methods of washing leave them apparently clean, but in reality with so many millions of bacteria hiding in the seams that they soon sour any milk that comes into them. Neither hot water nor cold water should be put into cans first. A lukewarm water should be used before any other and the cans thoroughly rinsed out with that. Then use some warm water and washing soda. After that use boiling water and let the water stand in the cans forga few min- utes to kill any possible bacteria. After the cans have been emptied of this last water, let them stand or lie where the sun will shine into them for some hours. This is the process that has to be followed by many of our dairymen that furnish milk to the condensing factories. Whitewash. Whitewash is a valuable adjunct in keeping the cow stable clean. Our milkmen have learned this long ago, at least those that have to sell. milk to exacting buyers. Visiting the farms in the vicinity of Elgin, Illinois, one is struck with the frequency of the whitewashed stables. One of the great advantages of this wash is that it shows dirt readily, and when it has been applied a stable cannot get very lirty without the attention of the owner being called painfully to that fact. As a germicide whitewash ranks high, and dairymen should use it more than they do. e It is of the nature of wisdom to de- spise.—Maeterlinck. sete PR The Cow-Thief. If the “man behind the cow” would do his’ part, no unprofitable animal would masquerade under the fictitious appellation of “milch cow,” and she would either go to the butchers’ block or be made to return a profit by more intelligent care and management. It passeth understanding why theft by a cow should be tolerated more than theft by a human. In effect, the result to the loser in either case is the same. Our government has found it wisdom to study and establish far-reaching methods for the detection and the re- pression of the, latter; and by the same token why should farmers and dairymen be less vigilant in regard to this possible proclivity in their cows beasts described as dumb, yet out- witting their owners? So long as cows of this class are permitted in the dairy herd, so long will there We dis- satisfaction and failure. Improve- ment is the route to success, whether by breeding, better management or other way, and intelligence in our cowmen is the power that will force advancement in the right direction. Dairying has come to be one of the most important factors in agriculture, and, rightly conducted, is one of the surest moneymakers of our varied in- dustries. It is incomparably more ra- tional than any one-crop system, or even general farming, as its practice tends to rotation of crops, maintains or increases the fertility of land, and affords steady employment with ro- turns remunerative according to the brains mixed with the business.— Barnum’s Midland Farmer. Breaking Young Horses. - The first thing to do when you find a new foal is to take him in your arms, one arm under his breast, and the other under his rump, and carry him abdut and into the house and put a pinch of sugar on his tongue, and it is well to give him a little ride often, two or three times a week, at \least until he gets too heavy, and when he gets to be a full grown horse he will never doubt that you are able to take him up and carry him. When he is a fortnight old lead ‘him with a small rope around his neck, which he will easily understand and teach him his name and to come at call. Never piay with a colt or horse; let all your inter- course with them be grave and seri- ous business, but kind and never harsh or cruel. Teach them daily ot as nearly so as possible to know the use of a bridle, saddle and harness and to draw a vehicle. A colt sc trained. will work the first time he is asked to, without resistance, and gen- erally without awkwardness. Colts that have been properly treated will soon take pleasure in doing what you want them to, and manifest it by their actions. They are never vicious or unmanageable, and are not alarmed by accidents, as breaking of the har. ness or vehicle... Such an educated colt is worth twice as much as one allowed to grow up without education raw and green, and you will never per. ceive that it cost you anything to give him the increased usefulness and value.—Barnum’s Midland Farmer. Transmitting Consumption to Cattle. Experiments~ are being continually made to determine the transmissibil ity of tuberculosis to animals from man and from animals to man. The later experiments seem to quite gen- erally demonstrate that the terrible disease is easily transmissible. In Germany a number of tests have re. cently been made to determine to what extent animals are subject to the tuberculosis germs in human sputum. In these experiments 3 cows and 2 calves were used, the cows be- ing two years old and the calves 4 tc 5 weeks old at the beginning of the experiments. Each animal received from 50 to 60 grammes of human sputum in the milk or upon green fodder. No alteration of temperature was observed in any of the animals during the course of the experiments. After a period of four months the animals were killed and examined. In all cases infection had taken place and was apparent in the various ab- dominal organs. The origin of the in- fection appeared to have been in all eases the lymphatic glands in the region of the pharynx. Positive re. sults were obtained from the exam- ination of diseased glands for the presence of tubercle bacilli. The ex- perimenter expresses the opinion that the sputum of tuberculosis human pa- tients is one of the important sources of tuberculosis in cattle. Draft Horses as Farm Products. There is no kind of horse that can be more easily turned into money than the draft horse, provided he be ot good size and sound. He is not a very expensive proposition for the farmer, as he can be put to work at two years of age and kept at work till he is sold. From the time he begins to work he is paying his way, and sometimes he’ is doing much more. All the value that is put onto him after that time is put on at practically no cost. This fact enables the farmer to have on his farm animals that cost nothing to keep, if they are credited with the work they do, but which can be turned into cash at any time. How greatly does this differ from the case of some of our meat animals that are held for better markets, but always at a steady daily expense for which there is no offset! DANGEROUS NEGLECT. It’s the neglect of ‘backache, sideache, pain in the hips or loins that finally prostrates the strongest body. The kidney warnings are serious—they tell you that they are unable to filter the body’s waste and poison from. the blood—the’ sewers are clogged and impurities are running wild to im- pregnate nerves, heart, brain and every organ of the body with dis- ease elements. Doan’s Kidney Pills are quick to soothe and strengthen sick kidneys and help them free the system from poison. Read how valuable they are, even in cases of long standing. L. C. Lovell of 415 North First St., Spokane, Wash., says: “I have had trouble from my kidneys for the past ten years. It was caused by a strain to which I paid little attention. But as I neglected the trouble it became worse and worse until any strain or a slight cold was sure to be followed bw zevere pain across my back. Then the action of the kidney secretions be- came deranged and I was caused much annoyance besides loss of sleep. Doan’s Kidney Pills were brought to | my notice and after taking them a short time their good effect was ap- parent. All the pain was removed from my back and the kidney secre- tions became normal. Doan’s Kidney Pills do all that is claimed for them.” A FREE TRIAL of this great rem- edy which cured Mr. Lovell will be mailed on application to any part of the United States. Address Foster- Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y. For sale by all druggists, price 50 cents per box. THE SNEEZEOVITCH LANGUAGT. How the Japanese Spy Gave the Rus- sian Countersign. Japanese spies were everywhere in the neutral ground between the two armies. Still, their slant-eyed physi- ognomy caused their expeditions to be undertaken only at night. “Who goes there?” cried a Russian sentry. “A friend,” came the reply of the Jap in the shadow. “Advance, friend, and give the coun- tersign.” It was a desperate moment. Quick- ly the Jap forced a huge pinch of snuff up his nose and awaited the sneeze. “Pfloof—kerchewski—sneezeovitch!” “That’s right,” said the Russian. “Pass, little brother!”—New York Sun. Young Spoonamore. Whilé a young woman was making a hurried toilet upstairs her father was entertaining her caller. “By the way, Mr. Spoonamore,” he asked, “how do you stand on this question of imperialism?” “Why,” responded young Spoona- more, “I’ve always thought it was—er —more becoming to most people than a goatee.”—Chicago Tribune. Pain of Uncertainty. “I wonder,” dubiously cogitated Mr. Walker Farr, the eminent 10, 20 and 30-cent admission tragedian, “whether He paused as the clamor of the au- dience rose higher and higher. “—they are ,applauding my efforts or daring me to come out?”—, Killing Fumes. Mrs. Myles—Do you allow your hus- band to smoke in the conservatory? Mrs. Styles—Oh, my, yes; the fumes from his cigar kill the bugs. “T should think the fumes from the kind of cigars that he smokes would kill the plants.’"—Yonkers Statesman. CAME FROM COFFEE. A Case Where the Taking of Morphine Began With Coffee. “for 15 years,” says a young Ohio woman, “I was a great sufferer from stomach, heart and liver trouble. For the last ten years the suffering was terrible; it would be impossible to describe it. During the last three years I had convulsions from which the only relief was the use of mor- phine. “I had several physicians, nearly all of whom advised me to stop drink- ing tea and coffee, but as I could take only liquid foods I felt I could not live without coffee. I continued drink- ing it until I became almost insane, my mind was affected, while my whole nervous system was a _ complete wreck. I suffered day and night from thirst and as water would only make me sick I kept on trying different drinks until a friend asked me to try Postum Food Coffee. “I did so, but it was some time be- fore I was benefited by the change, my system was so filled with coffee poison. It was not long, however, be- fore I could eat all kinds of foods and drink all the cold water I wanted and which my system demands. It is now 8 years I have drank nothing but Pos- tum for breakfast and supper and the result has been that in place of being an invalid with my mind affected I am now ‘strodg, sturdy, happy and healthy. » “J have a very delicate daughter who has been greatly benefited by drinking Postum, also a strong boy, who would rather go without food for his breakfast than his Postum. So much depends upon the proper cook- ing of Postum, for unless it is boiled the proper length of time people will be disappointed in it. Those in the habit of drinking ftrong coffee should make the Postum very strong at first in order to get a strong coffee taste.” Name given by Postum Co. Battle Creek, Mich. Look in each package for the fam- ous little book, “The Road to Well- ville.” : 4 as