Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, January 14, 1905, Page 9

B. PAUL CHAPTER XXXII—Continued. It had long been known to the fish- ermen that there were openings on either side of Wedge Hill, but the com- munication between the two had been eut and burrowed by Tripp and his men, who had also carved the rude steps and the opening that led into a large inner cave. This, when investi- gated by daylight, proved to be ad- mirably adapted for the purposes to which it had been put. It was practi- cally inaccessible except to those in the secret; it had two exits, one into the narrow channel and the other into the first inlet on the east side of the Wedge; and it abounded in ledges and recesses which might almost have been designed for storage.’ One of the singular finds in this cave was a gun, apparently taken from some ship and probably too heavy to be worth tak- ing away. It would appear that the Weasel’s attempt to raid the vicarage was plan- ned in the eleventh hour. Tripp no doubt had heard from the curate that Dr. Champion and his sister would be out, and the coast enticingly clear. The letter which was taken up by Weasel John for the viear, and forwarded to him at Dr. Catell’s, was quite a curi- osity, and is so now, in an even great: er degree. Thus it runs: Dr. Sr—I was at Cliffe this aftrnoon and Nance Perratt ask me Wood I lett you noe her Jno is sicke and they think he has Gott ye feaver he has sumthing on his Mine and Wood be gladd to have you se him this Nite. I have hurt my Legg and canot goe my- selfe. Yrs to command, —Will Ruffidge. Now Nance Perratt lived at the ex- treme end of Cliffe, mote than two miles from the vicarage, and doubtless the letter was written not only as an excuse for the Weasel to make a pre- liminary observation, but also with the hope of keeping Dr. Champion at a safe distance for an hour or two. Upon the trial of the gang at Exeter assizes it was stated in evidence that the “woman” who used to visit Penni- told was a notorious “fence,” or re- seiver of stolen goods, who arranged for the disposal of the pirated mer- chandise. The lugger, it may be added, got clear away, as did the “sweet little t’—if there was one—which Tripp »ntioned in his speech to the sail- ors. wi CHAPTER XXXIII. The day after the battle rose bright, but still gusty, the great clouds scud- ding before the wind, with intervals of turquois showing between and beyond them. The atmosphere was wonder- fully clear and the air of a delightful freshness. From early morning the beach was alive with visitors. and Chidley and even Eppleton, al- most emptied their houses on this great occasion. Personally conducted by those who were lucky enough to have been present at the fray, the vis- itors wandered from the cottages to the quarry and back to the cottages. These, of course, were the center of attraction, but the beach was well scoured for mementos, and two or three boats put off, in spite of the still | turbulent sea, to investigate from a safe distance the face of Wedge Hill and the mysterious channel. all the notables were there. The vicar left his Targums, and Mrs. Champion her preserve pots, and Dr. Catell his Pharmacopoeia. Mr. Leife was * the hero of the occasion, and there was quite a chronmatic competition be- tween his blushes and his bruises. He was, however, in the seventh heaven of delight, for pretty Miss Catell made no secret of her admiration for his conduct, of which at least half a dozen widely different accounts were in cur- Lieut. Postlethwaite was on the spot to see about the confiscated goods, and at Dr. Champion’s invitation agreed to make the vicarage his headquarters for the day until the civil authorities arrived from Exeter to claim the pris- oners. Nellie Champion, of course, was here, there and everywhere, and, al- most for the first time, Mr. Leife found her attentions just a trifle unseason- able. carried off his niece after engaging the happy curate for that evening, and then Nell found herself fully restored to her usual place of honor. “Let us go round to the Cruddle, shall we?” she said. “There are so many people here and the yall say the same things and ask the same ques- tions, and it’s so silly.” The curate was quite of her opinion, now that the doctor’s neice was gone. Accordingly they climbed the Cap, struck into the Cliffe road, and turned up towords the quarry mouth. “and it was Phil who showed you the way!” said Nell. “Fancy poor Phil! But I believe he used to sleep down there sometimes; I’m sure he told me so himself.” i “It was very fortunate for us that we had him. I wish I knew where he was. I expect we should have had to WEASEL BY: Cliffe | Almost | At length, however, Dr. Catell’ NEUMAN. fidge and his gang would have got clear off.” “And Weasel John wouldn’t, which would have been a good thing,” said Nell. “I always. did hate him. Do you think they got off together?” x “I can’t say,” replied the curate, gravely; “I can’t imagine that any man who looked as he did could rey cover. It was an awful sight. It makes me shudder even ‘now to think of it.” “I wish bad pepole could be pun- ished cleanly,” remarked Nell. “I don’t like to think of any one looking like that.” “There was something good in them. after all,” said Mr. Leife; “they did stick to one another. If ever a man took his life in his hands Ruffidge did when he came back after his mate.” “Well/ returned the young lady, “I think good people should be good all through, and bad people bad. Then you’d know just how to feel about them.” “I suppose there’s One who does know,” said the curate, quietly, and Nell had no reply ready. As they stood looking at the black entrance to the quarry Nell found her tongue again and asked a score of questions, winding up with the eager entreaty, “Do let us go in!” Mr. Leife shook his head. “No,” he declared, “once is enough; and, besides, it isn’t a place for a young lady to walk about in.” “But,” persisted the young lady, “it was dark when you came, and now it is daylight.” “Down there,” answered the curate, “it is as dark at noonday as at mid- night. If Phil were here we might venture, perhaps.” “Then there he is,” cried Nell, joy- fully, “so now we can go, can’t we?” Mr. Leife was rather taken aback, for it was indeed the boy emerging from the darkness with a lanthorn in his hand. As soon as he saw the cu- rate he waved his hand and came run- ning, his face big with great tidings. “Come with me,” he said; “I’ve something to show you.” And without waiting for any word of assent, the boy turned and re-entered the quarry. “I suppose I had better go with him,” said Mr. Leife. ‘Will you stop here till I come back, or will you rup home at once?” “I don’t want to do either,” said Nell, looking up at him ‘pleadingly; “please let me ¢ome, too. I will be very careful and do exactly what you tell me; I will, indeed.” Then, seeing signs of wavering in the curate’s eyes, she repeated, “Please let me come.” “Well—” he began, rather weakly. “Yes, I will,” she said, slipping her small hand into his, and pulling him gently along. Whether it was the difference in their circumstances or because the light did not penetrate the gloom, cer- tainly the way seemed to the curate much less perilous than it had appear- ed a few hours before. As for Nell, she was in ecstasies and danced along so fearlessly that Mr. Leife had more than once to threaten a prompt return. At the awkward places, however, nota- bly at the spot where the, Weasel had threatened an attack of the “falling sickness,” she obeyed the curate’s di- reetions with absolute docility. Phil all the time went on steadily in front, | only pausing every now and again to let them come up close to him. He was evidently full of some purpose, and | had no room left in his mind even for | his beloved lizard. At length the darkness began to | thin, till the lanthorn became almost | unnecessary, and soon they caught a | glimpse through the tunnel mouth of | the gray sky and tumbling sea. They | stood on the ledge where Weasel John | had been taken prisoner. The tide was | just about the same height and Mr. | Leife had little difficulty in recalling j the scene. Opposite to them, wedged ; in between two sharp rocks, was the | skiff. in which Phil had been carried ‘ashore. And higher up on the strip of beach, canted over on her side, now lay the big man-of-war’s boat, caught apparently by the same current. “There’s something else down there, too,” cried Phil, in high glee, as he watched the curate’s face. “I'll show you.” 3 And leaving the lanthorn on the ledge, he let himself down. Mr. Leife followed, and Nell was about to do likewise when he stopped her. “Not till I've seen what it is,” he said, for the half-ttrembling exultation on Phil’s face had pretty well warned him what to expect. ~ : ' He spoke so seriously and decisive- ly that Nell made not the smallest de- mur, but simply sat down on the rock and kept watch with her bright eyes. When Mr Leife descended to the beach he found that Phil had disap- peared, but on going down the shingle he soon found him kneeling on the far side of the large boat. As the curate approached he looked up with the strangest expression on his face—tri- umph, merriment, and just a sugges- tion of fear. “Is he asleep, do you think?” he asked Mr. Leife, eagerly, “or is he—?” There, stretched out on the stones, one heel half buried in wet sand, lay redoubtable Weasel. The recedii waters had done their best for hig? and he lay on his side, the dreadful burn mercifully hidden. But the face was still a terrible sight, so ¢frk and swollen, and the eyes fact set in such a furious glare of struggle and agony. Almost at a right angle, his feet close to the Weasel’s head, lay Tripp, his limbs relaxed, his fingers inter- locked, eyes closed, the attitude and expression those of one who, over- worked, has sunk into a welcome, dreamless sleep. “They will never wake again on earth, either of them, Phil,” said the curate, gravely, even sadly, for death in such a guise looked grim and sol- emn. The lad, however, was not so im- pressed, for, stooping over the Wea- sel’s body, he began to rummage in his pocket. “I wouldn’t do that,” said Mr. Leife. “Let him be now.” “Tve got something,” cried Phil, ex- ultantly, feeling in the dead man’s breast. Then, tearing open the shirt, he drew out,a little crucifix, secured round the neck with a slender chain. With a quick jerk he snapped the chain and standing up, before the cu- rate had guessed his intention, flung the ivory into the sea. “It’s what he did to him,” he cried. The curate’s forehead contracted into an ugly frown. “Go in and find that crucifix, Phil,” he said, “or I’ll thrash you.” Cowed by the threat and still more by the frown, Phil obeyed like a child, and was lucky enough to succeed in his search. “Now fasten it on again and leave it just as it was,” commanded the curate. Then he turned to the other body and looked earnestly on the quiet, si- lent figure. “Death wipes out all scores, Phil,” he said, and the boy, who did not un- derstand the meaning of the words, smiled up at him, for the tone told him that the cloud had passed and that he was forgiven. “Are they»there?” asked Nell, in an awestruck whisper, as the curate climbed up the ledge, followed by Phil. “Yes,” he answered, taking her hand: “We'll go and fetch some men and have them taken to Whayre.” “I’m glad they’re not alive, but I’m not glad they’re dead; do you under- stand what I mean?” whispered Nell, as they crawled into the darkness, Phil once more leading the way proud- ly with his lanthorn. “Yes, I do,” answered Mr. Leife, “and I think I feel like that myself.” Then, after a pause, he added to him- self: “They were neither lovely nor pleas- ant in their lives, but in their death they were not divided, and they shall be buried side by side.” (The End.) So Funny. It was late in the evening, as the young student was wending his way homeward from a concert and passing the house of a well-known physician. At the side doorway was a speaking tube, underneath which was the in- scription, “Whistle for Dr. Potts.” Not wishing to be disobliging about so small a matter, the student walked up the steps and blew into the pipe with all the strength in his lungs. The physician, who was awakened by the resultant shrill whistle near his head, arose, groped his way to the tube and shouted: “Well?” “Glad to know you're well,” was the reply; “but, being a doctor, I s’pose you can keep well at cost price, can't you?” ; “What do you want?” said the man of medicine, not caring to joke at that time of night. “You know old Mrs. Pevine, who lives in the next street?” “Yes. Is she ill? What’s the mat- ter?” “Do you know her nephew, too, Bill Briggs?” “Yes. Well?” “Well, he went shooting this morn- ing and—”’ “And he had an accident! Hold on a minute. I'll be down—” “No, he’s all right, but he got five brace of birds. I thought you might like to hear of it.” “I say,” replied the exasperated M. D., “that’s a jolly good joke, my friend. Won't you take something?” “What?” said the surprised humor- ist, pausing’ for breath. “Why, take something. Take this.” And before the funny man could withdraw his mouth, a hastily com- pounded mixture of ink; ipecacaanha and about fourteen other drugs squirt- ed from the pipe and deluged him from head to foot, about a pint monop- olizing bis shirt front. And while he danced frantically round, sponging himself with his hand- kerchief and talking like a pirate in the last act, he could hear a soft voice from above sweetly murmur: “Have some more? No? Well, good night. Come again soon, you funny dog, you!” Good Time for a Lecturer. A well-known doctor of divinity and a certain Methodist minister are great friends, but they dearly love a joke at each other’s expense. The former once delivered a series of lectures, and one of them—on Palestine—was’ not interesting enough to “hold” the audi- ence, which gradually withdrew before its conclusion. Not long afterwards the doctor's house was entered by a burglar. He gave a graphic account of the affair to his friend, the preacher, and ended by saying: ° “T had him flat on his back. I held him so that Xe could not move an inch.” “Good!” exclaimed the other; but, my dear sir, what a splendid oppor- tunity that was for you to have deliv- ered to him your lecture on Palestine.” A Bee Box for Winter. “1 do like my bees. If the reader has a nearly continuous supply of as fine honey as I have on my table right along he would like his bees. Bees are useful otherwise. That is why I plead for winter protection for bees. They deserve it. They royally pay for it. They sweeten our lives even it they do sting now and then. Let us reciprocate by tempering the bitter- ness and severity of the blizzards that may come upon them.” Mr. Greiner makes this plea in Farm and Fire- side for the little insects he likes so much and then gives the accompany- Winter Protection for Hives. ing account of how he insures the safety and- comfort of his bee colo- nies: In the illustration the hives are shown. as they are in the open season. I leave them standing on the platform, which afterward serves as the bottom for the box in which the stands are incased during the winter. If one or more of the hives have been moved away or separated during the swarm- ing season I gradually move them closer together again and finally place them as the illustration shows. When cola weather approaches the casing is put around the hives. The front, rear and sides each are separate, being put together with screws. My bee box (see picture) is five feet long and two feet three inches wide. The front is two feet high and the rear eighteen inches high. I fill the box with chaff or cut straw, pack- ing it closely around the beehives, then remove the tops, or covers, of each hive and also the honey board, covering the frames instead with a cushion or piece of thick cloth or blanket. The space between the hives and the cover, or roof, of the box is then filled with chaff, ete, and well pressed down. Finally the cover is screwed on, and the job is done. The top, of course, is slanting enough to shed rains I cover mine with tarred felt. Bees thus protected are in good shape, and, if well pro- vided with honey at the beginning of winter and have a young or strong queen, are likely to pass through the severest winter unharmed and to be ready for another season of work and usefulness when spring comes. Progress in Gardening. What an advance has taken place in gardening is well illustrated in the difference in the yield per acre of on- ions in some gardens of to-day and those of the old-timer. It used to be considered that 600 bushels an acre was a good crop, but not any longer. A Michigan gardener is credited with a harvest of 966 bushels this fall, but in this day of new and improved methods of culturé the yield is not remarkable, as yields of even 1,200 bushels have been secured. Many of the large-rooted vegetables make the most of their growth during the cool months of the autumn. Carrots, pars- nips and beets are of the number. During the summer their energies are given to the growing of top in which is stored a large amount of raw ma- terial that is prepared by the sun for use later in the growth of the root. When the top begins to ripen and die it is evidence, if the plant is healthy, that the foliage is being deprived of its store and that the root is profiting thereby. For this reason such roots should be left in the ground till the top is dead, or as long as it is safe to leave them. Here is an instance where “haste makes waste.” Parsnips, one might wonder when they stop grow- ing, or if they keep at it all winter. What appear to be small roots in the fall prove to be large fellows when dug in the spring. Salt as a Fertilizer. What is the value of salt for gar- den plants? Some years ago much was said about it as a fertilizer. Large quantities of refuse salt were sown on all kinds of farm crops. Little is heard about it now. It seems to have been a disappointment. Some kinds of plants will tolerate large applications of salt, but that it is of any great benefit is seriously questioned. Other plants, as is well known, are injured. Many gardeners sow large quantities of it on aspara- gus, Tea kale is another vegetable that receives a dressing of salt. 'Is it of any use except to keep down weeds? It is held that chlorine is essential to plant growth, but the amount need- ed is exceedingly smiall. Possibly there are soils that do not contain enough of it; though it may be doubted that any such are in cultivation. At any rate, the value of salt as a fertilizer Is likely to be more fanciful than real. —Michigan Farmer. Bees Carry Clipped Queen. “I will give you the proof of a statement I made two or three years ago, namely: that sometimes, at swarming-time, bees do carry a clipped queen,” remarks Gustave Gross in the American Bee Journal. “A friend of mine hived a swarm which, on the next day, left the hive and started for the woods; he being present at the time drove them back by throwing water on them. After a while they came out again and then he clipped the queen. But the next day they left for the woods; his family noted the direction they took, and about a week after he hunted them up, cut the tree down and there was his clipped queen. At that time there were no bees nearer than four miles. The tree he cut down was a quarter of a mile from the yard. “As I clip all my queens whenever a swarm issues while I am in the yard, I hasten to the hive in order to cage the queen, so as to make sure of her. It has twice happened that I did not see the queen, but afterward found her on my hat. How did she get there? [ “Several times also I have seen the queen come out last of all, one or two bees bringing her out ‘by the ear,’ so to say. In such cases I have caught her and put her in a cage. .But next time it happens I shall watch to see what the bees do.” fineaeae Expense of Growing Wheat. The expense of growing an acre of wheat varies greatly in different locali- ties, the price ranging from $7.50 to $13 throughout the arid region. On large areas such as farmers usually seed, the cost need not exceed $7.75 an acre in any irrigated locality. With this reduction in e expense, the profits would be largely increased, pro- viding equally good yields were secur- ed. The profit depends primarily on the cost of production, but it varies principally with the yield and the market price realized. While it varies widely the average is probably close to ten dollars an acre which is enough to pay at least forty per cent on the market price of lands or over ten per cent on a valuation of $100 an acre. While wheat growing on the non irrigated acres such as we see in the Divide country is not annually so great as in the irrigated districts the profits are often quite as good when a favorable season comes around as was the case this year but the figures we give apply particularly to irrigated lands. Many of our irrigated farms have netted fully $20 an acre for a period of years when alternated with alfalfa and spuds as rotation crops. Making Ready for Alfalfa. Alfalfa fields and lands intended for other crops could be irrigated and fill- ed with moisture this winter with profit. The water that runs by is doing the farmers no good. Turn it on the land, where it will be stored up against next summer’s need. It is a great mistake to turn the water off from the canals as soon as the grow- ing season is over, as is generally done throughout the west. The water ean be safely and profitably run on the land so long as it soaks in with- out freezing. This of course can not be done where alkali deposits would be brought to the surface to ruin the land. We believe the day will soon come when no water will be allowed to run to waste, but will be stored in the soil for the needs of the coming crop, whether fruit, hay, grain or vegetables. The government proposes to construct expensive deservoirs for storing irrigating water. While awaiting their completion would it not pe well for every farmer to practice for future need. We know from ex- perience that this will pay handsome- ly on nearly every farm in the west.— Denver Field and Farm. Limited Capital. When one has had no experience he should begin with the lowest risk. If the capital is small, it is better to rent for a year or two than to buy. If one buys he reduces his working capital, and should he be unsuccessful, he must stay on the farm until he can sell it, while if he rents he can return the farm to the owner, and leave. It is claimed that if one buys he can when beginning get everything ready for a permanent stay, which is true, but that is just what an inexperienced person should not do. He should start in a small way, and add to his capital by increasing his flocks every year, so that by the time he has a large number of fowls he will know much more than when he began. He can then take his fowls to a purchased farm, and feel that he has made a good beginning.—Farm and Fireside. Cracked Corn. Corn is cracked simply for conveni- ence of feeding to chicks. It is best to allow the gizzard to reduce it: Whole corn contains about eleven per cent of protein, five per cent of fat,: seventy per cent of starch, two per cent of crude fiber and one and one- half per c@nt of mineral matter. The rest is water. There is no difference in whole or cracked corn, the loss of fine material being some of the starch,' and the flinty matter of the outer skin, which is silicious and of no value. Cracking the corn only reduces it in, size, otherwise the composition of the) corn remains unchanged, though the finer it is cracked the greater the loss.) SES TS SI GS Sh 0 ge sR ie UR as ESI RE RBA i A A AREAS ec SR Da aS SSSR Sa EE a _ EN BOCES, Pe Se SS Ee SS See ES ALL DONE OUT. Veteran Joshua Heiler, of 706 South Walnut street, Urbana, Ill, says: “In the fall of 1899, after taking Doan’s Kidney Pills I told the readers of this paper that they had relieved ne of kid- ney trouble, dis- posed of a lame back with pain across my loins and beneath the shoul- der blades. During the interval which has elapsed I have had occasion to re- ¢ sort to Doan’s Kid- § ney Pills when I noticed warnings of an attack. On each and every oc casion the results obtained were just as satisfactory as when the pills were first brought to my notice. I just as emphatically endorse the preparation to-day as I did-over two years ago.” Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y., proprietors. For sale by all druggists, price 50 cents per box. in Bohemia. New Yorker—Oh, yes, I'm a thor- oughbred Bohemian. My artistic na- ture requires atmosphere. There is so much in that, you know. Cousin From Out of Town—Yes, I suppose so. I never was in but one Bohemian place, and I thought there was a good deal in that atmosphere— it was principally tobacco smoke!— Detroit Free Press. Beware of Ointments for Catarrh that Contain Mercury, as mercury will surely destroy the sénse of smeli and completely derange the whole system when entering {t through the mucous surfaces. Such articles should never be used except on rip Mons from reputable physicians, as the damage they will do {s ten fold to the good you can possibly de- rive from them. Hall's Catarrh Cure, manufactured by F. J. Cheney & Co., Toledo, O., contains no mer- cury,and {s taken internally, acting directly upon the biood and mucous surfaces of the system, Im baying Hall's Catarrh Cure be sure you get the enuine. It {s taken foternally and made in Toledo, hio, by F_ J. Cheney & Co. ia free. Sold by Druggists. Take Hall's What He Learned. “Do you think that religion and poll- tics can be made to harmonize?” “Yes,” answered the man who had consented to become a candidate. “The first thing I learned from the cam- paign managers is that it is more blessed to give than to receive.”— BABY’S TERRIBLE SORE. Body Raw With Humor—Caused Un- told Agony—Doctor Did No Good —Cuticura Cured at Once. “My child was a very delicate baby. A terrible sore and humor broke out on his body looking like raw flesh, and causing the child untold agony. My physician prescribed various reme- dies, none of which helped at all. I became discouraged and took the mat- ter into my own hands and tried Cuti- cura Soap and Cuticura Ointment with almost immediate success. Be- fore the second week had passed the soreness was gone, not leaving a trace of anything. Mrs. Jeannette H. Block, 281 Rosedale St., Rochester, N. Y.” If a woman has no troubles of her own she goes to a neighbor and bor rows some. A Rare Good Thing. “am using ALLEN’S FOOT-EASE, and can truly say I would not have been without it so long, had I known the relief it would give my aching feet. I think it a rare good thing for anyone having sore or tired feet.— Mrs. Matilda Holtwert, Providence, R. L” Sold by all Druggists,25c. Ask to-day. A woman’ can do anything with the aid of a hairpin—except sharpen @ lead pencil. PATENTS. List of Patents Issued Last Week to Northwestern Inventors. Reported by Lothrop & Johnson, patent lawyers, 911 and 912 Pioneer Press building, St. Paul, Minn.: De witt Bassett, Woonsocket, S. D., rail joint; Sidney Bunday, Arlington, S, D., scale beam; Oscar Frykman, St Paul, Minn., telephone apparatus; William Jacoby, Minneapolis, Minn, fish line float; John Kennedy, Minne apoljs, Minn., grain door for cars; An- ton Skaron, Warren, Minn., coat; Axel Sodergren, Minneapolis, Minn., folding picture album. If the lover attempted to recipro cate by loving all the world, his best girl would strenuously object. Any Woman can make Better Bread from Any Flour YEAST NORTHWESTERN YEAST CO. Chicago, Wl. icin