Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, February 24, 1906, Page 17

RAISED» FROM A DEATH-BED. Mr. Pitts, Once Pronounced Incurable, Has Been Well Three Years. E. E. Pitts, 60 Hathaway St., Skow- hegan, Me., says: “Seven years ago my back ached and I was so run down that I was laid up four months. I had night sweats and fainting spells and dropped to 9¢ pounds. The urine Passed every few minutes with in- tense pain and * looked like blood. Dropsy set in and the doctors decid- ed I could not live. My wife got me using Doan’s Kidney Pills, and as they helped me I took heart, kept on and was cured so thor- eughiy that I’ve been well three years.” Sold by all dealers. 50 cents a box. Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. ¥. Golf and Matrimony. an illustration of the enthusiasm with which golf is pursued by its vo- tavies, the following anecdote is told well-known Scoich author and a x friend of his: The two had at the whole day on the links, and 4ad some close and exciting matches. is they left for home the elder man remarked: ‘Do you think ye could play again to-morrow, laddie?” *Well,” answered the youth, “I was te be married to-morrow, but [ can put ft off.” How’s This? ‘We offer One Hundred Dollars Reward for any case ot atarth tha: cannot be cured by Hall's atarrb Cure. F. J. CHENEY & CO., Toledo, 0. We, the undersigned, have known F. J. Cheney e « 15 years, and belleve him perfectly hon- si financtally ade by his firm. LDING, KUNNAN & MARVIN, Wholesale Druggists, Tuledo, 0. Hall's Catarrh Cure 1s taken internally, acting directly upon the blood and mucous surfaces of the Tesi!monials sent free. Price 75 cents per ie. Sold by all Druggteta. ‘Tak_ Hall's Family Pills for constpation. His Viewpoint. Little Willie—Papa, what is a big- amist? Me. Hennypeck—A _ bigamist, my. sou, is a—shs-s-s-s! Is that your raamima conring up the street? No, [ seo it isn’t. Well, a*bigamist, is a é actor whe prevents at least one of his fellowmen from marrying. Shake Into Your Shoes Allen's Foot-Ease, a powder. It cures pain- ful, smarting, nervous feet and ingrowing sails. It's the greatest comfort discovery ef the age. Makes new shoes easy. A certain cure for sweating feet. Sold by all Druggists, 25c. Trial package FREE. Oimsted, Le Roy, N. ¥. ddress A. REAL AMERICAN PRINCESS. FALSELY << CONDEMNED —— BY —. Mrs. E. Bagot Harte. CHAPTER XXV—Continued. “In case that you may imagine that I am in any way answerable for the death of the woman's father, I will tell you that the news of it came as a great shock to me. He called to see me and to ask if I knew what had be- come of his daughter. I gave him some money—three ten-pound notes. As the money was not found on him, he was probably murdered for it by some one who discovered he had it on him.” “And what did you tell him about his daughter?—that you knew noth- ing?” “Yes,” Silence followed—a dark, ominous silence, during which Sir George’s hand stole down to her shoulder and rested there, yearning to comfort, yearning to soothe. His heart ached for the woman whose life he had ut- terly ruined. Co-sufferers they were in bitter trouble, co-sufferers they must ever remain in all that pertained to their false union. Wife—yet not his wife—she must share the crushing burden of his awful crime. To ever forget that her existence had led to that crime was impossible. Both knew it. Both realized it. Sharply she raised her face and looked at him: this man who had sud- denly taken to himself the guise of a fiend. She shrank away from the touch of his hand—shrank away from his proximity. “Hilda! Hilda! Don’t look like that; oh, don’t, don’t!” Now he had seized both of her hands and was clasping them imploringly. Don’t turn from me, but forgive me. Can’t you guess the terrors of my temptation? The woman was in the wood alone and she was dying, only a short time longer could she have lived, and a demon of utter recklessness seized me, seized me for your sake, Hilda. If she lived our lives would have been accursed, so a voice whispered to me, and if she died all would be righted—the secret of my marriage with her would be buried forever. Our lives—yours, dar- ling, and mine—would continue to drift on happily side by side, so I told myself. The deed hastening her death was a moment’s work, and my hands Mrs. Narcissa Owen Lineal Descend- had wrought that moment’s work al- ant of Powhatan. As gently as he could, a man recent- ty chided a woman for conferring ti- ties on persons who had no right io therm. “Don’t you know,” he said, “it is absurdly un-American for you to speak of Miss Alice Roosevelt as ‘the Princess Alice? Surely you must be aware that there are no American princesses?” He thought he had erushed her. Foolish man! “You shoulda’l display your ignorance,” she “There is an American primeess. She’s Mrs. Narcissa Owen, daughter of Ah-ni-ki-la-he, and a lineal descendant of the great Powhatan.” Mrs. Owen is rounding out her life tranquilly in the national capital. She n artist and musician, with a stu- » in an office building. She lives rrounded by tokens of her race. rs. Owen is seventy-four, and her mory goes back to some stirring ers in American history. Around 1er neck, suspended by a chain, is the gold medal presented to her father by Thomas Jefferson. It commemorates the peace treaty signed by the United Siates and the Cherokees. Against a wall are six plates of fine china sent to the chieftain by Mrs. Martha Wash- ington Mrs. Owen was educated in Fayetteville, Ark., and studied art and music in Boston. She was married in Arkansas to Col. Robert Owen of ‘vnehburg, Va., who became presi- retorted. dent of the Norfolk & Western rail- | road. He died fifteen years ago, leav- iag a handsome fortune. UNDER WHICH KING “The More Postum the More Food— the More Coffee the More Poison. The Pres. of the W. C. T. U. in a young giant state in the Northwest gays { did not realize that I was a slave to coffee till I left off drinking it. For three or four years I was obliged to take a nerve tonic every day. Now { am free, thanks to Postum Food Coffee. “After finding out what coffee will do io its victims, I could hardly stand to have my husband drink it but he was not willing to quit. 1 studied for months to find a way to induce him to leave it off. Finally I told him I would make no more coffee. “f{ get Postum Food Coffee, and ade it strong—boiled it the required me, and had him read the littie hook, “The Read to Wellville,’ that comes in every pkg. ‘To-day Postum has no stronger ad- yocate than my husband! He tells sur friends how to make it, and that he got through the winter without a. spcli of the grip and has not had a ieodech. for months—he used io be subject to frequent mervous head- aches. “The stronger you drink Postum the food you get; the stronger you ak coffee the more poison you get.” Name giver by Postum Co., Battle reek, Mich. There’s a reason w most before I knew it. Five minutes after I was frantic with terror and re- morse at the iniquity of my action. Heavens, how hard I worked to hide my victim! But I will not harrow your feelings by telling you more. Not- withstanding the almost certain dis- covery that has dogged my footsteps since that awful hour, the fact that L committed the crime remains hidden.” As he said the last word his eyes sought hers with a look of anxious in- terrogation. Would she be willing to condone his crime with silence, now that she knew that publicity meant everlasting disgrace and ruin to their child? Would she consent to take up the tainted threads of her life and try to weave with them a happy future? Years seemed to rush by as he waited for her to speak. But could the hard, unloving ‘face into which he was now looking be that of the woman who had always been to him the tenderest, most loving and heroically devoted of wives? Those lines of care, that look of hope- less agony—could they be the work of a few short minutes only? She was turning towards him now, and trembling lips were framing words that would seal his fate. “George, when will you confess your crime?” She said it quietly, as if no | other course were possible. “But—” “Don’t finish that sentence!” she swiftly interrupted. “Don’t make me hate you more than I do now! And don’t touch me! Take your hands away!” He jumped to his feet and strode away from her, the woman for whose sake his hands were blood-stained. A moment later he was facing her with flashing eyes. “Hilda!” he cried, passionately, “is it nothing to you that your child’s life is blighted forever? Think of all it means when you speak so calmly of my confessing.” “If you do not confess your crime, I shall denounce you.” “You denounce me? You?” “Yes; heaven help me to do it! But, remember, small mercy will be yours unless you hasten to confess all your- self. This very day I must leave this house—your home. Before the mo- ment that we part for life comes, let me know that you have nobly faced the work of self-denunciation.” “Curse my folly for having told you the truth!” he cried, bitterly. “Curse my folly for having put any faith in a woman’s fidelity. I was fool enough to believe that you loved me, that you would be true to me, that—” “That I would share the wickedness of your crime!” she exclaimed, inter- rupting him. “How little you seem to understand my character. Please tell Me now, at once, that you will give yourself up to the police this very day.” “I will not promise!” “Then you will force mounce you.” “I defy, you to do it!” me to de- Hilda rose and walked out of the room. “Will she dare do it?” he asked him- self, turning livid and cold from fear. “Idiot and fool that I was to tell her all! But the excitement of the mo- ment was too great for me. It threw me off my balance. I wonder what she is doing now? Shall I follow her? Quicker and more excitedly he asked himself each question. “Stop her— shall I? No! I cannot trust myself to act and speak coolly. Besides, influ- ence over her I have none! She must do her best—or worst! I will remain here trying to think. steadily—trying to devise some means of counteracting her treachery.” He was pacing up and down the room now, walking quickly, yet ner- vously, growing more burningly anx- ious every moment to know what form her determination to disclose the truth would take. It was well for him that he did not know, for at that very moment she was penning a telegram to be forward- ed to Reggie, should he not be at Ar- lington Towers, asking him to come at once to see her. Within an hour of its being dis- patched it was placed in his hands. “Important information. Please come immediately.—Hilda.” he read. “What can it mean? But I'll go to her.” Instantly he was acting on this de- cision. Half an hour later he was in the train. At the end of three hours he was hurrying up the carriage drive of Carlton Park. Watching for his arrival was Hilda. He was shown at once into the morn ing room. “What has happened?” he asked. looking with astonishment at her white, wrawn face. She staggered toward him and seiz- ed his extended hand, exclaiming: “It is not true! Guy did not mur- der that woman!” “But tell me how you know! What proof have you that he did not? And who did it?” “George Ellingham is the real crim- inal. The woman was his wife, and-I am not!” With pity Reggie looked at her, with pity he led her to a chair and sat down at her side. The anxiety of her: hus- band’s long illness had been too great a strain on her mind, he felt no ele- ment of doubt on the subject. What could he say? How condone, yet gently argue her into disbelief of her statement? “I will speak to Ellingham about it myself,” he said, quickly. “Speak to him—oh, no! You can- not! Dr. Bennett has come and—and —listen! Yes, he is coming down- stairs. He will want to speak to me.” It was true. The next moment the doctor entered. He loked angrily at Reggie. “J was telegraphed for,” the latter explained, “and if you consider my presence undesirable I will leave at once.” “Perhaps you can be of assistance to us. An acutely painful stage of Sir George’s illness has been reached.. He has been seized with a strange idea that he murdered the woman whom your brother confessed to having killed.” “It is true!) He would not have said it otherwise,” put in Hilda, quickly. “Believe me, Lady Ellingham, it is not true! False accusation is the most common form of brain disorder. Not the slightest notice should have been taken of his statements. He should have been mildly argued with. But you seem to have fostered this un- fortunate delusion. As a result we are face to face with new and distressing complications, and I shrink from think- ing what the end may be. At the pres- ent moment his mind is in a most ex- cited and overwrought condition—in short, he is on the verge of suffering from a most severe return of brain fever. No reference to the Arlington tragedy must be made in his presence, and you yourself would be wise to ab- stain from seeing him. May I rely on your supporting my advice, Mr. Ers- kine?” “You may,” replied Reggie. “Under the circumstances I feel that I cannot do too much in order to assist in dis- pelling Sir George’s unhappy form of mental illness.” “But tell me, when is—is—the exe- cution to take place?” asked Hilda, turning to Reggie, and speaking in a low, husky voice. “It is not settled. I am trying to ob- tain a reprieve, "answered Reggie. “It will undoubtedly be granted,” put in the doctor. “One more question before you go, Dr. Bennett,” said Hilda. “Yes, what is it, Lady Ellingham?” “Is Sir George in danger?” “Unfortunately, yes.” “And if he dies without further proof of his guilt being obtained—” “No further proof will ever be ob- tained, Lady Ellingham, for he is as in- nocent of the crime as you or I. Do you not agree with me, Mr. Erskine?” “I do.” « CHAPTER XXVI. The evening sun was streaming througa. the windows of the prison in- firmary as Reggie walked past the row of beds to the one which Guy occu- pied. It was the first time that the broth- ers had met since the day before the attempted execution, and now the question uppermost in both their minds was what they should talk about. Of the future? No! For the elder possessed not a future—years of imprisonment could not rank as a fu- ture! And certainly the slightest ref- erence to the accident that had given him a new lease of life was to be avoided. Reggie took a seat at the table, won- dering how the quarter of an hour's interview could be filled with conver- sation that would leave behind no painful impression on the sich prison’ er’s mind. But the first words dis- pelled all difficulty. Guy was no moody prisoner. Thoughts of the world of freedom coursed healthily through his mind. “How are the Ellinghams?” he ask- fea. The question startled Reggie, star- tled him into sudden remembrance of Hilda’s disbelieved words of the day before. Instantly the determination to repeat those disbelieved words came upon him. “Sir George is very ill again,” he re- plied, quickly, and he has made a statement to the effect that he mur- dered Margaret Williams, or Searle, or whatever her true name may be, and ‘that you are innocent of the crime. He says that the woman was his wife.” With startling rapidity the words were spoken. “But proofs? put forward?” The white-faced prisoner was white- faced no longer; color was surging into his cheeks, excitement into his eyes, as he asked the question. “Proofs? What in heaven’s name do you mean, Guy? Proofs of his having committed the crime can’t exist! You know they cannot! Why do you ask the question? Why madden me with —with—” Commanding himself suddenly, Reg- gie added in a voice impressively sol- emn, “Is it true, Guy?” “What true?” “That Ellingham, and not you, mur- dered the woman?” “The crime is mine,’ ly spoken reply. “Then why do you speak of proofs?” Very eagerly was the question asked. The nurse in charge noticed that eagerness. “You are exciting the patient. You must not stay a moment longer,” she said, hurrying forward. “But it is so important—”’ Reggie began, speaking as one determined to stand his ground. “Nothing is so important. as keep- ing the patient quiet,” replied the nurse. “I cannot allow you to ques- tion my authority.” To argue further was worse than use- less, and Reggie knew it. It might even cause him to be denied the right to see his brother again for some time. “Pll go at once to see Hilda again,” was his mental resolution as he walk- ed out of the ward. His visit was half expected. “f did not think that you would let the matter rest. I did not believe that you could be so callous,” she said. “Callousness shall never be laid to my charge now that my suspicions have been roused.” “I am so thankful to hear it. To- gether we may unravel the terrible mystery.” “Our powers of unravelment will be strained to their utmost, for no sane. person will ever believe that Guy did not commit the crime. What possibty could have induced him to say that he aia?” “It was for my sake, George told me.” : What proof does he was the quiet- (To Be Continued.) GERMANY IN CARIBBEAN. Teutonic Activity From St. Thomas . 5 to Haiti. St. Thomas may now be reckoned as a coaling station for the kaiser’s navy. In Santo Domingo German agents are reported as buying up all foreign claims, so that German warships may have the provocation, if the opportun- ity presents itself, of taking Samana bay. At Curacao there is the menace of German possession. In Venezuela there was Germany's formal tender for the island of Margarita. But in Haiti the Teuton’s activity is so persistent as to be dumbfounding. On the eve of the last presidential election posters were scattered over the capital by which it appeared that one of the candidates, Cincinnatus Le- conte, had contracted to turn over the Mole St. Nicholas to Germany for a coaling station. Leconte’s cousin, whose father is a German, has been the engineer for the railroad out of Port au Prince, and this man, it is fur- ther asserted, supplies Germany’s se- eret war bureau with charts and maps of the country. He is now reported as taking soundings around the coast in a fishing schooner. Naturally. The elderly lady who was looking through the shop of a dealer in nick- nacks picked up a small handbag. “Are you sure,” she inquired, “that this is real crocodile skin?” “Absolutely certain, madam,” re- plied the dealer; “I shot that crocodile myself.” “It looks rather soiled,” observed his customer. “Naturally, madam,” explained the salesman; “that is where it struck the ground when it tumbled off the tree.” & Cement Floors and Mangers. Concerning cement and other floors for dairy cows, I beg to give you my opinions and practice in the South: We find it necessary in this climate to use flooring that can be washed abso- lutely clean, and cement is the only material that answers the purpose. Dirt, clay or board floors are more foul smelling, and will communicate foot rot and fungous warty growths between the claws easier here, than in the North. We also admit that the cement is too hard to lie upon, and produces stiffness and perhaps cold and rheu- matism. In the South the time re- quired for keeping the animals tied in stalls all night is so much shorter that during the majority of the year the cows merely come into the stalls while they are being milked and eat- ing grain feed, and do not lie down. In the winter time when the cattle are kept in barn all night and most of the day, we have adopted the practice here of packing a bed six inches deep of sawdust, cottonseed hulls and cut fodder or straw, in the stall, and hold- ing it in place by fastening a 5 or 6 inch board across the ends of the stalls, exactly flush with the side of the manure gutter next the cows. The bedding material is packed"fight and level with the top of this board at the point where the cow’s hind feet stand, and will remain quite clean for a considerable time. We find this 6 inch layer of bedding when properly renewed or leveled every day, makes an excellent and inexpensive bed, clean and practically dustless. Now the use of cement feeding troughs to my mind is an entirely dif- ferent matter, and I am not in favor of them at all. A round or square cement water trough in the barnyard is all right enough. The use that I object to is a trough in front of the cows, used for feeding, and flushed with water for cleaning, and to let the cows drink. This I consider a most fruitful method of carrying dis- ease from one cow to another. If some of the cows fail to eat their feed as quickly as others, it produces a slop and waste. Feeding on floors or in troughs without partitions be- tween the heads, permits a greedy cow to get more feed than belongs to her. I consider the feeding such an individual matter that each cow should have a good sized deep feed box all to herself, with partitions be- tween heads high enough to prevent any communication with neighbors. I prefer such feed boxes made of sound wood, tight enough to hold water rea- sonably well, slanting slightly toward the front and having holes or short pipes in one or both corners, so that they too may be thorovghly washed occasionally with a hose. Such boxes do not need much cleaning, as the cows usually keep them licked clean and right. I consider cement too hard and in winter too cold for them to lick, and liable to disintegrate after use from the action of the tongue and saliva. As to watering, I consider all de- vices for watering in the stall a farce, both useless and unsanitary. The best way we have found is to turn cows out of stalls for water at one or two protected troughs where they will not necessarily get cold or muddy while drinking. 1 advise the use of cement for the entire barn floor, stalls, manure alley, and feeding alley, with the single ex- ception of bottom and sides of feed boxes. Cemént is becoming cheaper every year and is a great help to dairymen. Cc. L. Willoughby. Dairyman Georgia Experiment Sta- tion. Churning Temperature. Temperature at which butter should be churned is of very great import- ance in the making of good butter. ‘The cream should be properly ripened and the temperature should be such that the whole milk wili be uniform. The temperature of the cream cannot be raised suddenly. A person cannot take milk at 40 degrees out of the cel- lar, heat it up to 65 degrees and com- mence churning immediately, nor should the temperature be raised by pouring in hot water. In both cases the temperature will be very uneven, a pa:t of the milk will be warm and a part ¢f the milk will be cold, and if the hot water be poured in it will coagulate a part of the casein—that with which it comes into immediate contact. Previous to churning the cream should be in a warm room for several hours, and it should have reached a desirable temperature at least two hours before being put into the churn. On the farm this is easily done by placing the cream in the kitchen or some other warm place, at least in the winter season. In a creamery it will be necessary to keep the <emperature of the whole building at or above the temperature at which it is desired to do the churning. This problem of churning temperature is a very difficult one, on account of the great variability of our season; in the summer the temperature will nat- urally be too high and in the winter it will naturally be too low. While in the creamery the desirable temper- ature is 50 to 55 degrees, in the farm home it will be from 60 to 65 degrees. The reason for this is that in the home the churning is done by hand and in the factory it is done by machinery driven by steam. The lower the tem- perature the harder the churning. “Keep pegging away” is the shoe maker’s motto. There Ia no Rochelle Salts, Alum, LimeorAmmonia in food made with Calumet Baking Powder Theonly high grade Baking Powder made at a moderate price. Drink More Water. Free water drinking is another es sential to vitality and to the develop ment of staying power. All the oper ations of the body, digestion, assimila tion, absorption, elimination of poison ous waste and so on, are carried on b means of water; and an insufficient amount of water in the system means embarrassment of every functio’ The body of a man of average weis contains more than half a barrel water, and such a body needs for i proper operation at least two quarts daily of pure water. In this connec tion it may not be irrelevant to men tion that the Japanese soldiers, whose srurpising powers are now engaging the admiration of the world, cont each between two and four gallons of TERRIBLE SCALY ECZEMA. Eruptions Appeared on Chest, and Face and Neck Were All Broken Out—Cured by Cuticura. “I had an eruption appear on my chest and body and extend upwards and downwards, so that my neck face were all broken out; also mj arms and the lower limbs as far as the knees. I at first thought it was prickly heat. But soon ales or crusts formed where the breaking out was. Instead of going to a physician { purchased a complete treatment of the Cuticura remedies, in which I had great faith, and all was satisfactory A year or two later the eruption ap- peared again, on:y a little lower; but before it had time to spread I pro cured another supply of the Cuticurs Remedies, and continued their use ua til the cure was complete. It is now five years since the last attack, and have not seen any signs of a return I have more faith in Cuticura Reme- dies for skin diseases than anything Emma E. Wilson, Lis I know of. comb, Iowa, Oct. 1, 19¢ Information. “What is a domestic animal, mam md asked the little boy. “A domestic animal,” replied m ma, with a scornful glance at papa, who was putting on his coat, “is who does not spend all his time at tt club.” Important to Mothers. Examine carefully every bottle of CASTORIA, asafe and eure temedy for infants and childrea, and see that it Bears the Signature of Cajfllliden In Use For Over 30 Years. The Kind You Have Always Bought, Touched. “Hands up! The words startled the belated pe destrian, but he smiled grimly “Your allusion to ‘hands’ is painful,” he said. “I’m on my way home fr a poker party myself.” Hastily thrusting a dollar upon him, the footpad disappeared. TO CURE A COLD IN ONE DAY Take LAXATIVE BROMO Quinine Tablets. “Drug gists refund money if it falls to cure. HB. W. GROVE'S signature {¢ on eaoh box. 25c. Too Good to Be True. Moe Rose—That must be a truly an- gelic, heavenly, ineffably good kid of your, Joe, from the way you tell us about her. Joe Cose—Good! Why, that kid’s got a halo large enough to roll hoop with. Efficacy Plus Prayer. Ethel, one of New Hampshire’s sev- en-year-old daughters, is devoted to the birds. She was enraged at her older brother, whose keenest enjoy ment seemed to be to trap them. She pleaded with him and scolded him, but all to no effect. So Ethel took a new tack. When peayer time came the other evening the mother heard this final petition added to those which dealt directly with the spiritual and mate- rial welfare of the family: “An’, dear God, please smash all Willie’s nasty traps, for Jesus’ sake. Amen.” “Ethel, dear,” said mother, serious- ly, “do you really think that last is a nice thing to ask God to do? Do you expect him to do such a thing as that?” Ethel smiled beamingly and an- swered: “Oh, that'll be all right, muz- zer. Jes’ before I comed upstairs 1 smashed ’em all my own self.” SCAR = We DODDS’