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f CHAPTER XI.
"FATE ISPLAYIKO INTO MY HAJfDS."
After sending the telegram to Doctor
Montford, saying that Breta Danton
had arrived at Brentwood Park, Eric
Bsentwood turned his steps homeward,
wondering all the -while who the doctor
could be who had inquired after the
girl.
As he neared the park he saw her in
tli3 garden, and he went up to her to
inquire about her .acquaintance with
the doctor.
"Ah, Breta! I wish to speak to
you," he egan.
"About the telegram?" she inquired;
then added: ''Turner told me that you
had inquired for me, and that Bhe
thought yon wished to see me about a
telegram."
"Yes, I received a telegram from one
Doctor Montford, asking if you arrived
here. Do you know him?" he asked.
"Montford?" hesitatingly. "The
name certainly is familiar."
"Perhaps, some one whom you have
met abroad, or some one who knew
your mother."
"I dare say," she returned. "I
have met so many people that I forgot
their names. However, I am glad that
I have a friend who is interested in my
welfare. You informed him of 'my
safe arrival?"
"Yes," replied Eric. "He was evi
dently anxious to learn of your fate,
so I thought it cruel to keep him in
Buspense," with a smile.
When she found herself alone her
fac3 assumed a serious and not alto
gether pleased expression. "Wrink
ling up her pretty face into a frown,
she murmured to herself:
"Who is Doctor Montford? Some
one who has met Breta Danton and
knew of her intention of coming to
Brentwood Park, else he would not
have made inquiry of her safe arrival.
It's a good piece of luck that he didn't
come here in person. - If he had it
would have been ail up with me. Now
that he is satisfied that Breta Danton
is here I hope the idiot, whoever he is,
will attend to his own affairs, and not
meddle with mine. This is a new fea
ture in the game, that I did not think
of before. I didn't have the least idea
that any one would turn up who knew
that girl. If she only were lying at
the bottom of the Atlantic, where I
thought her, until Carlos Montesri told
me of her rescue! I doubted him at
first, but now I know that he told me
the truth."
-
Several days later, she was sur
prised to learn that there was a gen
tleman in the drawing-room who
wished to see her. "Carlos," 6he
thought, but taking the card he had
Bent up, she read: . !
CECIL DONIPHAN.
' -.- mm m f-irv O J&OJIRWJWAC N9J3t9)-0 Jr MAM nAA v a run i nn . .... ' 11 mi.
J J3BHTA'SP0UBLffi
"I will be down in a few minutes,",
she told the maid.
"What will happen next?" she ex
claimed. "Who is this new arrival on'
the carpet? I've never heard the name
before. Is this, too, some one who
knew Breta Danton? If it is, Heaven
help me!" in a terrified voice. "Oh,1
well, I'll face him,be he who he may!"
she said, in a determined tone, gain
ing new courage. "I've carried the
ga-ne throiigh successfully so far; I'll
not give it up now."
So saying, she descended the stairs
and entered the drawing-rrom.
A tall, finely-built man arose as che
came in. J
"Miss. Danton?" he asked.
"I am," she replied. ""But I fail to
recognize Mr. Doniphan."
"That is natural as we have never
met before. I came as a messenger
from your grandfather."
"My grandfather!" she exclainied.:
"Yes. I dare say you are surprised
that he has made up his mind to re
ceive you at Ravensniere, but such is
the fact. It seems that he regrets his
treatment of his son Ronald, and in
tends to make up to you for his harsh-,
ness, although he deserved it all."
"How did he know that I was at
Brentwood Park?" she asked, recover
ing her surprise and speaking cautious
ly, lest she would betray herself.
"His old friend, Doctor Montford,
informed him; but, here, read this, and
you will understand how ho became
aware that he had a granddaughter," he
said in a cold tone, as he passed hez
Dr. Montf ord's letter.
Taking it from his gloved hand,, she
perused its, contents, studying well
every word, while to herself she
thought:
"This is the very cue I needed.
Surely fate is playing into my hands.
This explains everything."
Looking up from the written sheet,
she said:
"Doctor Montford has taken quite
an interest in me. But I am undecided
whether to comply with my grand
father's wishes or not. . I cannot en
tirely forget his unjust treatment of
poor papa."
"My uncle requested me to insist on
your coming to Ravensmere," said
Cecil Doniphan. .
"You are his nephew, then?" look
ing at him inquiringly.
"I have that honor," he replied in
even tones. - .
"Oh, well, after all," hesitatingly,
'I suppose I should, .not let pride
Btand between us. I will go to my
grandfather." , 1
'Well, Miss Putsp, I beg yLt?
V I IV II AV V y II I V UVy I II V V.A Vy Jill IXI WAV
1 111 ' '
VOL. XXII. PITTSBORO, CHATHAM
make all the speed possible in making
your preparations, as my time is limi
ted." "You wish me to acoompany you?"
she asked.
"That was my uncle's intention,"
he responded.
"Very well. I'll acquaint my
friends with my decision. No doubt,
they will be surprised to learn of the.
existence of my grandfather, for I
scarcely knew it myself."
Excusing herself, she sought Eric
Brentwood and his mother, and told
them the change in her fortunes. It
ould be useless to state their sur
prise upon hearing that she had rela
tives in America.
"My dear child, I am glad to know
that you have a grandfather, who cer
tainly is doing right in acknowledging
his son's child. Although I am sorry
to part with the daughter of my old
friend, still I feel that you are doing
your duty in going to him to comfort
his declining years," said Mrs. Brent
wood; while Eric expressed hi3 re
grets at her departure, wishing her
much happiness in her future home.
She would have wished a different
parting with Ei ic, but the excitement,
pending her change of fortune some
what subdued the pain of parting with
the man she loved as well as a nature
like hers was capable of loving. '
Half an hour later, she bade them
good-bye, and entering the carriage
with Cecil Doniphan, shedrove to the
station, where she took the train for
Ravensmere, but not before she had
been seen by a man -tending a short
distance away.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed in sur
prise. "What does that mean? I
must find out."
As the train started out of the little
station he inquired of the station mas
ter if he knew where the lady and
gentleman who got on there were go
ing. "I do not, sir," replied he. "The
lady was Miss Danton, from Brentwood
Park, I believe; so if you are anxious
to know other people's business, I dara
say you can find out there."
"Deuce take you with your inso
lence 1" said Monteri for it was he
as he turned on his heel and took him
pelf off. "I must learn what that girl
is up to now," he murmured. ... "No
good; I'm sure of that."
CHAPTER XII.
"THERE'S NO DOCBT ABOtTT CS BEING
FRIENDS."
Cecil Doniphan had very little to
say to Gerald Danton's supposed
granddaughter during the journey
from Brentwood to Ravensmere. Be
yond furnishing her with several
papers he did nothing to amuse his
companion, but took a book from his
pocket and buried himself in its con
tents. She pretended to be reading also,
but all the while her thoughts were
traveling over the events which had
transpired since she took passage for
America on the ill-fated Sea Foam.
She had intended to become mistress
of Brentwood Park, but she knew that
she had made but little impression on
Eric Brentwood; and now that Gerald
Danton had claimed her as his grand
daughter, she naturally expected that
she would be his heiress.
"If only Carlos were dead!" she
thought again and again to herself.
"While he lives I am sure of nothing.
He is liable to turn up any minute and
spoil all my plan3. I know that I will
not be at Ravensmere very long be
fore he will make his appearance
there."
Cecil Doniphan was not so deeply
interested in his book as one might
suppose, and several times, when his.
companion was not looking his way,
he raised his eyes and let them rest
on her dark beauty with a searching
scrutiny. "
"Beautiful," he thought, "but no
look of the Dantons there. Like her
mother, I suppose. And if I'm not
mistaken, she has a will of her own.
Oh, well, if I can't get Gerald Dan-',
'ton's fortune jn one way perhaps I can
in another. At any rate, Ronald Dan
'ton's daughter shall not outwit me.
i 'Wherever there's a will there's always
a way.' I have the will, and the way
I'll be sure to find."
Once, upon looking up, their eyes
!nt.et, and Cecil felt that he was obliged
ito speak.
.'.'Are you perfectly comfortable? Is
; there anything that you wish me to
j get for you?" he inquired in a more
Ifriendly tone rthan he had used before.
"Nothing, thank you," she replied
rather coldly, piqued at his former de
!sire to avoid con vernation with her.
The remainder of the journey was
passed in comparative silence, and at
last, to the great relief of both Cecil
Dpniphan and his companion, they
alighted from the train at the station,
where they found the carriage from
Ravensmere awaiting them. k
' At sight of the handsome equipage
the girl gave a little gasp of admira-
tion.
"Why, grandpapa must be very
wealthy!" she exclaimed. "This livery
is even finer than that at Brentwood
Park.'!
"Yes," returned Cecil Doniphan.
"He is pretty well off in this world's
goods. Wait until you see Ravens
mere." Entering the carriage, she settled
herself back in the cushions with a
feeling f exultation. She had a pas
sionate love for luxury, and to Jhink
that, by a little caution and plotting,
all might be ners, niled her with de
light, and for the moment she forgot
the existence of Carlos Monteri. He
was the bugbear of her life. Turn
which way she would, he was bound to
cross her path. She knew that she
would have to aGfede to his demands,
or else have Breta Danton brought
from her place of confinement and
given into the hands of her friends
and relatives, while she what would
become of her then?
Even if she had a chance of putting
Carlos out of her way, she now real
ized that she could not do it until sho
got Breta Danton under her thumb;
and at present she did not even know
where he had her confined. And he
was sharp enough to keep that knowl
edge from her. ... . - . c
- As the carriage bowled along, she
took in the beauty of the surroundings;
and when they approached their des
tination, Cecil turned to her.
"This is Ravensmere," he said, as
they passed through a large gateway.
"Ah, yes!" she exclaimed. "Those
large ravens perched on the posts of
the gates might have told me that.
What a beautiful place I After all, I
am glad that I did not let my pride
keep me from my proper home. In
deed, j lr. Aompxiiiu, i i&el as if I have
been on a long journey and am just re
turning home, after weary travels in
foreign lands. Do you live here at
Ravensmere?" she asked, in conclu
sion. "Yes; this has been my home ever
since my parents died, and, until you
were heard of, I was to be heir. But
now, of course, it will be different,"
he added coldly.
"Ah, I'm sorry to be the cause of
your dethronement," she said, unable,
however, to suppress a look of triumph,
which he was quick to note.
"Come," he said; "let me assist yu
in alighting."
She walked up the veranda-steps
with the air of one who belonged
there; and with a determination to be
brave and carry through her deception
without a tremor, she accompanied
Cecil Doniphan into the drawing-room,
where she found an old, gray-haired
man awaiting them.
"Uncle, this is Miss Dauton. Miss
Danton, your grandfather."
"Oh, grandpapa," she exclaimed,
going forward, "I am so "glad to come
to you, in spite of my pridel"
"Ah. .forget that, my dear," he said,
as he took her hand. ""So you are the
little girl Montford took so much in
terest inl And to think I had a grand
daughter and did not know it!" he
said. But somehow or other he did
not experience the pleasure of this
meeting of his nearest living relative
that he had anticipated. Neverthe
less, he dec;J.ed to make up to his
son's child wuat he had lacked doing
for his son. "I hope, my dear, that
you'll be happy here with us."
"Oh, I know that I shall be," she
replied, taking in the grandeur of her
surroundings. "Who could help be
ing happy in such a beautifal pce;
with so kind a grandfather?"
"There, there, child! I'm only do
ing my duty, which should have been
done long ago. Go to your room now,
and we'll talk over things later when
you have rested from your journey.
Cecil, ring the bell and tell Martha to
conduct Miss Danton to the room I
had prepared for her coming. Lie
down and rest, my dear, and you will
feel fresh for dinner," he said, address
ing the girl, who stooped and pressed
a kiss upon his withered cheek.
Cecil Doniphan had been a silent
witness to all this by-play, and a sinis
ter smile played around his lips as she
accompanied the woman Martha to her
apartments.
"Well, uncle, do you like her?" he
asked.
"She seems like a nice child, and
she certainly is beautiful, but she has
not the Danton face."
"No," returned Cecil. "The Dan
tons were mostly all fair, were they
not?"
'.'Yes. But she is dark, and I am
glad that she does not look like Ron
ald, for it would be a constant remind
er to me of my wayward son. I hope
you will be friends," he said.
"Oh, there's no doubt about us be
ing friends," Cecil replied, with a
smile.
To be continued.
The Bill Came Back.
" He had been told that mutilated
currency of the United States Treasury
would be redeemed for as much as
that portion represented, and, being
possessed of a $20 note, two-fifths of
which were destroyed, he determined
to profit by it. He therefore directed
a communication to the United States
Assistant Treasurer in charge of the
Redemption Bureau, with the green
back inclosed, and hopefully awaited
results. Visions of $5 suits and 98
cent straw hats flitted through that
astute financier's mind. After waiting
a couple of days the official envelop e
arrived and with trembling fingers he
tore it apart to more readily grasp the
check he knew it contained. Much
to his surprise out dropped the iden
tical bill he had sent to Washington
for redemption, marked across with
the word ' 'counterfeit. " He concludes
to wait longer for his summer suit.
Philadelphia Record.
Hindu Widows and the Queen. J
One hundred Hindu widows in and
about Amritsar, the chief commercial
city of the Punjab, presented Queen
Victoria with a curtain, embroidered
by themselves. It is one of the most
interesting of the Jubilee gifts, seeing
that sixty-eight years ago such widows
would have been burned alive on the
funeral pyre of their, deceased hus
bands. In 1829 Lord William Ben
tinck proclaimed the practice unlawful
and punishable by the criminal courts
as wilful murder. It is stated that
between the years 1756 and 1829 as
many as 70,000 widows had so sacri
ficed themselves.
COUNTY, N. C, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER
19TH-CENTUBI PROGRESS
SREAT COMPARED WITH THAT OF
ALL PREVIOUS TIME COMBINED.
President Orton's Address to the Ainerl
. can Association For the Advancement
-of Science Twenty-Tour - Discoveries
and Inventions of the First Class.
Alfred R. Wallace has recently made
i careful inventory of the discoveries
nd inventions to which the progress
of the race is mainly due, and he di
vides them into two groups, the first
embracing all the epoch making ad
vances achieved by men previous to
the present century,, aad the second
taking in the discoveries and advances
of equal value that have had their ori
gin in the nineteenth-century. ,In the
first list he finds but fifteen items of
Ihe highest rank, and the claims of
some even of this number to a separate
place are not beyond question. They
may not really be of epoch making
character.- But he puts into the list
the following, viz.: Alphabetic writ
ing and the Arabio notation, which
have always been the two great en
gines of knowledge and discovery.
Their inventors are unknown, lost in
the dim twilight of prehistoric times.
Coming after a vast interval to the
fourteenth century A. D., wo find the
mariner's compass, and in the fifteenth
the printing press, both pf which be
yond question are of the same charac
ter and rank as alphabetic writing.
From the sixteenth century we get no
physical invention or discovery, but it
witnessed an amazing movement of
the human mind, which in good time
gave rise to tho great catalogue of ad
vances of the seventeenth century. To
it we credit the invention of the tele
scope, and, though not of equal rank,
the barometer and thermometer, and
in still another field tho invention of
the differential calculus, the all im
portant discovery of gravitation of the
laws of planetary motion, of the circu
lation of the blood, of the measure
ment of the velocity of light. To the
eighteenth century we refer the more
important of tho earlier steps in the
evolution of the steam engine aud the
foundation of both" modern chemistry
aud electrical science. This completes
the list.
What is there to be added to this
list? Some would urge that Jenner's
discovery should bo included hero,
but this claim Wallace wculd indig
nantly deny. In making such a list,
it is evident tho personal equation of
the author undoubtedly needs to be
recognized, and different orders of ar
rangement, even if the elements were
the same, would be assigned by differ
ent students.
And now what has the record beeu
since 1800? How does the nineteeth
century compare with its predecessors ?
A brief examination will show us that
in scientific discovery and progress it
is not to be compared with any single
century, but rather with all past time.
Iu fact, it far outweighs the entire
progress of the race from the begin
ning up to 1800. Counting on the
same basis as that which he had pre
viously adopted, Wallace fiuds twenty
four discoveries and inventions of the
first class that have had their origin
in the nineteenth century, against the
fifteen or sixteen already enumerated
of all past time.
Of the same rank with Newton's
theory of gravitatior, which comes
from the seventeenth century, stands
out the doctrine of the correlation and
conservation of forces of our own cen
lury, certainly one of the widest and
most far-reaching generalization that
the mind of a man has yet reached.
Agains. Kepler's laws from the seven
teenth century we can set the nebular
theory of the nineteenth. If the first
reveals to us myriads of suus, other
wise unseen, scattered through the il
limitable fields of space, the second
I alls us what substances compose these
6uns. aud maintain their distant fires,
and, most wonderful of all, the direc
tion and the rate in which each is mov
ing. Harvey's immortal discovery of
Ihe seventeenth century finds a full
equivalent in the germ theory of dis
ease of the nineteenth. The mariner's
jompass of the fourteenth century
easily yields first place to the electric
telegraph of the nineteenth, while the
barometer aud thermometer of the
teventeenth century are certainly less
Wonderful, though perhaps not less
i ervieeable, than the telephone and
phonograph and the Roetgen rays of
oar own day.
Iu addition to tho advances now
enumerated, the great doctrine of or
ganic evolution, supported especially
by the recapitulation theory in em
bryology, finds nothing to match with
it in broadening and inspiring power
in all the past history of the race. The
same can be said of the periodic law
of Mendeljeff in chemistry, of the
molecular theory of gases, of Lord
Kelvin s vortex theory of matter, of
the Glacial Period in geology, and of
the establishment of the origin and
antiquity of man, all of our own cen
tury. Nothing can be brought from all the
past to compare for ono moment in di
rect application to "the relief of man's
estate" (Bacon) with the discovery of
anaesthetics, while by his discovery of
antiseptic surgery the name and fame
of Sir Frederick Lister will grow to
tho last syllable of recorded time. In
the mobilization of man and the giv
ing to him the freedom of the globe,
! the railways and the steamships of
our century are absolutely without
any elements for comparison in all
that the past has left us.
Solo by the Choir.
A correspondent vouches for the
truth of tho following story. It was
at a tea and concert given in a dis
senting place of worship in a village
. in the Midlands. - A local' magnate
presided, and when "the programme
' was entered upon he rose .and said:
. "Laftes and gentlemen, the choir will
now sing asolo,"-LondonQhrQaicle
MYSTERY OF JOHANN ORTH.
One of the Most liemarkablo Romance
In the Dynastic History of Europe.
One of the saddest of episodes is
that known as the mystery of Johann
Orth, the most remarkable romance
in the dynastic history of Europe . id
this century. The Archduke, John.
Salvator of Tuscany, a nephew of the
Emperor Francis. Joseph, had fallen
in love with an actress and singer,
Ludmilla Hubel, whom he married in
spite of all family opposition, renounc
ing at the same time all bis rights,
privileges and rank, and assuming the
name of Orth, after one ol his castles.
The romantic marriage was celebrated
secretly, but in a perfectly legal man
ner, by the Registrar of Islington, and
was witnessed by the Consul-General
of Austria iu London. . " .
Johann Orth next bought, in 1891,
a fine ship in Liverpool, which he re
named Santa Margarita; and so anxious
was ho to guard against the vessel be
ing recognized that he stipulated that
all drawings and photographs of it
should be handed over to him, and
these he burned with his own hands;
moreover, he caused all portraits and
negatives of himself and of his wife to
be bought up at any price, aud these
were likewise destroyed. We are giv
ing here only absolute facts. Shortly
afterwards the ex-Archduke and his
wife set sail for South America, and
the vessel was duly reported to have
arrived at Monte Video, and departed
for a destination unknown. Bat from
that moment every trace was lost of
the ship and all on board, no news as
to her fate having ever been heard, al
though many a search has been made
along the coast by order of the Em
peror of Austria and his Government.
Adventurers and treasure-seekers
have been at work, as it was well
known that Johann Orth had onboard
over one million two hundred and fifty
thousand dollars in specie; it is be
lieved that he intended to have bought
an estate in Chile with the money, and
to have settled there, but that the ves
sel fouudered off Cape Horn daring a
a terrific storm which raged on the
coast shortly after the ship had left.
From time to time since then the most
startling rumors have been et afloat
about the missing prince having turned
up; one being that he had been one of
the leaders of the Chilian rebellion,
having divided his treasure among
his crew, burned his ship, landed on
a lonely coast, etc. His own mother,
who died only a few months ago at
the Castle Orth, believed her sou alive
to her very last hour, aud expected his
return. The Swiss Government ia of
a different opinion, and assumed the
death of the Archduke, and paid over
to Frau Orth's next of kin a large
amount of money, which Johanu Orth
deposited as a settlement for his wifo
with the Swiss authorities before his
departure, aud there is little doubt
that tho Santa Margarita lies at tho
bottom of the sea, and that all ou
board perished. Strand Magazine.
How a Man and Wife Corresponded.
One of the houses on my route is
the home of a traveling man who
spends about half his time out of town,
said a New Orleans letter-carrier.
When he goes on a trip ho aud bis
wife exchange a postal card every day,
regular as the clock. The lady al
ways gives me her cards to mail, and
I couldn't help noticing that both they
and the ones she received were always
perfectly blank. All they ever con
tained was the address, and those that
camo to tho wife had oven that printed
instead of written. I confess the
thing made me curious, and I thought
up all kinds of theories sympathetic
ink, secret marks on the edges and a
lot of other nonsense for which I
never discovered any evidence.
I happened to know the drummer
pretty well, aud, meeting him one
day, I couldn't resist asking him about
tho blank cards. "So you've beeu
trying to read 'em, have you?" he said,
laughing. I expeotod that, and took
it good naturedly. Theu he explained,
"My wife and I are naturally poor let
ter writers," he said, "but we want
to hear from each other every day so
as to know that nothing has gono
wrong. Wo used to write like other
folks, but it was a hard job, and one
evening we got to looking over some
of our old letters and they seemed so
stupid and forced that we were really
ashamed , of ourselves. Then we
thought of this blank card scheme,
and it has worked like a charm. It
means simply that all is well. Before
I go on the road each of us knows the
other's programme, and tha receipt of
cards means that nothing has happened
to change our plans. .The saving o
ink and imbecility has been enor
mous. " New Orleans Times-Democrat.
President Grant's Suzeeslion.
An official who quite generally knows
what he is talking about was dilating
the other afternoon upon the funny
hopelessness for all reasonable pur
poses of many of the little creeks and
rivers for the "improvement" of which
Congress was asked to appropriate
money under the River and Harbor
bill.
"When Grant was President," said
the official, "he used to alternately
chuckle and fulminate against the ex
penditure of good Government coin
for the 'improvement' of measly little
streams that he himself knew could
never be made fit lot any human pur
pose. There was a Virginian who,
failing to get Congress to stick in au
appropriation for the dredgingof a lit
tie stream down in hi3 section, finally
importuned Grant in the matter,
" 'Let's see,' said Grant, musingly,
'I believe I crossed that stream in
1864, wasn't it?'
"The Virginian, who remembered
Grant's crossing of the stream pretty
well, replied affirmatively.
" 'Look here,' eaid Grant, after n
pause, his face lighting up suddenly,
'why dont' you macadamize it?' 'V
Washington PpsS :
9, 1899. ; NO. 11.
3BEAT WHEiT HARVEST
JU3Y AND INTERESTING DAYS IN
THE NORTH WESTERN STATES.
Appearance ot a Thpashei-'s Train a It
Goes From One jolt to Another What
the Separator ioe a Relative Merits of
the Header and the Binder DUcnsed.
The hum of the threshtng-machiue
will be heard for the next few weeks
irom the east line of Minnesota to the
t'arther boundaries of the Dakota?.
The laud is dotted with grain stacks,
usually in groups of four, though oc
casionally a farmer, who makes a herd
or a flock the prominent feature of his
husbandry, will have his entire crop
stacked in asemicircle'round the north
and west sides of his corral. At in
tervals slender columns of smoke tell
of a "steamer" at work from dawn till
dark. A stranger in the country .see
ing tho steamer moving from one job
to another might easily mistaSre' the
outfit for au innovation in railroadiug.
First come3 the traction engine, noi
unlike a locomotive engine; although
smaller aud paiuted in brighter colors.
Immediatelv behind the engina is the
tender wagon fitted with a rack for
hauling straw. Nearly every engine
nowadays is a straw burner. Then
comes the separator, a monster . ma
chine with thirty-six to forty-eight-inch
cylinder, and a sixty-inch separator;-.
Behind the ssparalor comes the
tank, resembling very closely a
Standard Oil distributing wagon,
which hauls water for the engine from
the nearest windmill pump. Next the
"trap wagon" carrying the loose para
phernalia of the outfit, and the clothes,
aud bedding of the men. If the thresh-
I ers board with the owner of the grain
: this constitutes the train, but if, as is
generally the case, the owner of the
machine boards his crew, the "grub
shanty," an ordinary house-wagon,
brings up the rear, making a train
from 100 to 150 feet long.
Tho modern separator comes pretty
near being the "whole thing." Instead
of the threshing crew of our boyhood
days drivers, feeders, oilers, hand
cutlers,' four to six pitchers, measurers,
and half a dozeu straw stackers--the
crew consists of a manager, usually
the owner of tho machine; engineer,
oiler, waterman, six pitchers and a
cook. The pitchers, three on a stack
on each side of the machine, throw the
bandies, higgledy-piggl8dy onto an
endless belt the width of the cylinder,
automatic guides straighten them and
the belt carries them under rows of
knives that cut the bunds aud then
feeds them into the cylinder. The
grain passes from the winnower into
the elevator, is carried up ten or twelve
feet to the weigher, weighed and
sacked or poured into the farmer's
wagon box. The straw and chaff pass
into the "blower," or automatic
stacker, a steel tube about three feet
in diameter and thirty feet long. This
is set at the beginning of a job at an
angle of ten to fifteen degrees above
the horizon and gradually raised as
the straw stack rises to an angle of
fifty or higher. It also swings from
right to left, stacking the straw in a
semi-circle around the tail of the
machine. At the bottom a "blower"
or fan forces a draft through the tube
strong enough to carry the straw many
feet from the mouth of the stacker.
4 Some of the threshers require the
owner of the grain to board the crew
but most of them have learned that it
pays better to carry their own board
ing house, have meals at regular
hours, and keep their men together.
All the farmer has to do is to haul his
wheat to the granary and pay the bill,
ranging from five to six cents a bu3hel.
He finds it a great improvement over
the old days when he was obliged to
scour the neighborhood to get to
gether a force of twelve to twenty
men, aud the farmer's wife is de
lighted with the change.
Twenty years ago a dollar a bushel
was considered only a moderately
"paying" price for wheat. TeH year3
lack, when the market had. -worked
down below seventy-five cent3, the
w heat farmer faced certain bankruptcy
with a groan. Now, farmers in the
Northwest are selling wheat, and
making money, at fifty cents a bushel.
Many factors contribute to make this
possible, but heavier crops and lower
wages are not among them. Lower
prices on nearly everything he buys,
especially machinery, leave the farmer
a larger surplus from a given sum,
but the result is brought about most
of all' by improved machinery aad
systemizing the business. The gang
plow, the four-horse harrow, the broad
drill, the binder and the header on
the level prairies of the Northwestern
wheat fields have more than doubled
the producing capacity of labor.
As soon as one crop is off prepara
tion for the next is begun. Even
nowv in the Dakotas and Minnesota
notable progress has been made to
ward the crop of 1900. On many
farms a field of forty to 100 acres was
summer fallowed in June. Then,
there is the cornfield, twenty to 100
.acres more, needing only to have the
oorn stalks dragged to make it ready
for the drill. As soon as the grain is
m the stack and here is the strong
point of the large and increasing num
ber who use the header in preference
to the binder the gang plow is
started. The earlier the stubble is
turned under the better the promise
for next year. With a fourteen-ineh
gang and four good, heavy shires-or
Peioherons, an old man past the 'ago
for arduous labor, a cripple, a bright
boy of twelve or thirteen and. on a
pinch the farmer's daughter can
turn over five or six acres of the mel
low soil a day. Recently at a G. A.
R. campfire in South Dakota, there
was a slight delay. At the last mo
ment the organist, who was to accom-
mny a quartet in some old army songs,
tad sent regrets, and a young man
1aH 1-taan rlianar.Vherl foT tha fjftnorlitpr
IoX A comrade in an a d join ing town. The
messenger found, the g"rl afield with
RATES
OF
AD VERTIOirJC
One square, one insertion
One square, two insertions
One square, one month
1.01
i.to
For larger advertisements liberal coc-
t rots will be made.
the "gang." In an hour sho hal
made a hasty toliet and was playing
the organ as prettily as you please.
By the middle of September the 100
acres, which is the area prescribed by
the unwritten lawfor each gang, is
turned. Then comes a long rest, so
far as the wheat crop is concerned,
until April 1. , About that season of
the year, if you should be driving
through the realms of tho wheat kings,
you would witness some transtorma
tions. Yesterday the snowdrifs were
melting in the April sun; to-day tha
farmer, or the farmer's man, is follow
ing the four-horse, thirty-six foot
harrow, smoothing an acre for the
drill at every sweep across the quar
ter sectiou. To-morrow tho drill
starts. No daylight is wasted.
Twelve to twenty acres a day is seeded
till the crop is in. Theu the rush is
over. At more leisure the garden is
made, the cornfield plowed, planted
and cultivated. In' July, haying and
preparation for the harvest are iu
order.
If Fortune has smiled; if shower
aud sunshine have followed each other
iu due proportion; if drouth aud
Birocco, tornado and hailstorm have
spared them, tho fields of ripening
wheat are a poet's dream. But to tho
farmer in the great wheat belt harvest
is distinctly aud emphatically non
poetical. It means long days and
short nights, dust and sweat, grimy
face, hsuds blackened with oil, weari
ness and aching joiuts. Harvest i
the most critical aud important part
of the year's work.
The most practical and successful
wheat growers arc divided iu opinion
as to the relative merits of biudoraud
header. The headers are made to cut
a ten, twelve or fourteen foot swath.
With a twelve-foot header thirty to
thirty-five acres a day can be put iu
the stack, but it requires a crew of
six to eight men and boys and eight
or teu horses. With a six-foot binder
two men with three horses will put ia
tho shock twelve or thirteen acres.
But horses are mora plentiful than
men in the Western -harvest fields.
By using a seven-foot binder and
eight horses iu two reliefs, three men
frequently put up twenty acres or
more in a day. For the header it i.i
contended that the harvest cau bo
taken off more quickly and cheaply
aud the grain is iu the stack when it
is cut, leaving the field ready for to
plow earlier than by any other mcaur.
TI19 advocates of the binder argua
that it i3 not alway3 possible to secure
enough hands to fill the header crew
while the farmer can run his binder
with one hired man.
By either method the work is
pushed from dawn till dark. Tho
farmer and his help reach tho end oj
harvest worn down by hard work aud
long hours, but with a sense ef relief
that the fruits of the year's labor are
measurably secure against the hazards
of the elements. While wheat is, and
must nesassarily remain, tha leading
feature of Northwestern agriculture,
the best farmers have ceased to de
pend on the wheat crop alone for their
living. A herd of cattle, a flock of
sheep, a few pigs, tho great American
hea, and a well kept garden supply
many of his family wants, leaving
him ia b9tt3r shape if the wheat crop
fails.
j
Miss Proctor's Youthful Critic.
Miss Mary Proctor, the astronomer
and lecturer, takes a deep interest iu
social settlement work in the bi
cities, and frequently gives her per
sonal services toward entertaining
poor children and adults. Generally
her lectures are very well receivee".
Mauy of her audiences often manifest
better attention than those drawn front
higher circles. Now and then thero
are exceptions.
On. one occasion a bright-eyed little
boy, who sat in the front row with his
eyes fixed upon the speaker, was asked
how he liked it. .
"I guess," he said, "it was pretty
good, but she ought to talk about lioni
and tigers. That's belter for every
body." At another lecture a youngster criti
cised her as follows:
"It's all very well to talk of weigh
ing and measuring stars. There are
some people, of course, who believe
that sort of thing, but if she can fool
us boys with such fairy tales shen
very much mistaken." Philadelphia
Saturday Evening Post.
A Slartllnj; Mexican Custom.
It is a little startling to newcomers
at first to notice the universal custom
in Mexico of addressing persona of
highland low degree by their first
names. As Soon as friends are at all
well acquainted they address each
other by the given name, and this is
done not only by those of the same
age aud sex, but indiscriminately
among young men and young women,
young people and elder persons. Iu
the latter case, or betweeu elderly
persons, a respectful prefix is used,
as "Don" Ricardo. Public charac
ters are also commonly referred
to by their fisst names, even the wife
of the President of the Republic being
affectionately called Carmsncita by all
classes. In the household tho head
of the house is called Don Jose or
Don Manuel by the servants, and a
son in distinction is known as Man
uelito (little Manuel).
Curious Kfiects of l;htnlnjr.
x During a recent thunderstorm ia
Berlin most curious effects were pro
duced by the lightning on the persons
who were struck. Some of the strange
freaks performed are described as fol
lows: "None of the wounded have ex
tensive burns; tho wounds look a3 if
caused by a charge of grain shot. Tho
holes reach to the bone, and are sur
rounded by a web of blue and brown
lines. Many of tho ipjured have qnito
a number of such wounds in their feet
and ankles, while others got off with
a skin covered with blue and brown
marks, as if beaten with a thick stick."
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