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vaT, Txvm. plttsborq. Chatham county, n. a, Thursday. January 25. mi. no. 24.
T
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vim
AH
2 VAX
LITTLE MAKE-BELIEVE
OR
A CHILD - OF
7
CHAPTER IX.
Continued.
"That, as Little Make-Believe and
Saranne have lived all their lives in
Clare Market, and have never In all
probability spent a day in the country
-have perhaps never even seen the
country what a capital thing it would
be to have them down here for a little
While."
"It would be a capital thing, Wally,
"That it would, dad."
That is how it came about that be
fore the week was out, the postman.
with a sharp double rap at the door of
the house in Clare Market in which
the sisters lived, asked whether Little
Make-Believe lodged there.
In course she do." said the .woman
who answered the door.
Is she in?"
'Ferhaps she Is, and perhaps she
ain't."
"Would you mind seeing?"
He had a desire to give the letter
himself into the hands of the girl with
a name so strange.
There is a legend that there exists in
the force one who is at the same time
a poet and a policeman, and that this
remarkable individual has actually
written songs for the music halls.
The present postman, who was new
to the Clare Market district, may have
been the man, and his poetical tenden
cies may have caused him to be cur
ious about a person addressed as Little
Make-Believe, and have inspired him
with an idea that he might make a
song out of her for a Lion Comique.
'I'll call her," said the woman, and
she screamed down the stairs at the
top of her voice, "Here, Make-Believe!
.Yer wanted!"
Up ran Little Make-Believe, and con
fronted the postman,
;iAre you Little Make-Believe?"
asked he.
"Yes, that's me."
Well, here's a letter for you.
."A letter for me I. Go on! Yer. gam
moning !"
-There it Is, at all events.'
And he pushed the letter into her
hand, and continuedrhis rounds,
He had not derived inspiration from
her for a comic song.
Little Make-Believe stood for a mo
ment or two in a state of stupefaction
with the letter in her hand.
A letter for her! It was ah event
so strange and startling that it took
away her breath.
Never in her life had she received a
letter; she could scarcely believe that
she was awake.
Whn she had sufficiently recovered
she made her way downstairs.
"What was it?" asked Saranne.
"It's a letter," said Little Make-Be
lieve. solemnly.
Saranne looked up and laughed.
"You're pretending," she said.
"Not this time, Saranne. Here it is,
Thanks to the good officers of Wal
ter, both of them could read and write.
and had the letter been in his writing
they would have recognized it, but it
was Mr. Deepdale who had written,
Little Make-Believe laid the letter
unopened on the table, and the sisters
jrazed at it, half frightened.
'Who's It from?" said Saranne.
"What can it be about? I hope It ain't
somethine bad.
Suddenly she clapped her hands, ana
danced In her seat.
'Somebody's fell In love -with you.
and has sent an offer of marriage!'
What was It that made Little Make-
RoiiPVA tremble ana turn rea ana
white?
'Onen it open it." cried Saranne,
"and let's see."
Of the two Saranne had prove! by
far the aptest scholar.
She could read and write much bet
ter than Little Make-Believe, and she
spoke much better also.
It was not that Little Make-Believe
did not take as much pride In the les
sons given by Walter as Saranne did,
but she was the breadwinner, and had
less time on her hands and something
more serious to occupy her mind
Saranne, therefore, being the prize
scholar. Little Make-Believe opened
the letter, slowly and nervously, and
cave it to her to read.
It was simple, terse and to the point
"Dear Little Make-Believe and Sa
ranne," it read, "we are, as you know.
in the country, where we shall stop till
summer is over and my son has an
irioa in h head, which terhaps will I
please you. You don'fsee much of the
country, which just now is very beau-
tiful and if you would like to come
and stop here for a few days it would
do you good. You have only to say
yes,' and go to. Mr. Dexter, who will
arrange everything for you. A ram- I
ble or two in the woods will make you
strong. Your friend,
"W. H. DEEPDALE."
"Oh. myr I
That was all they could say for sev-1
eral moments.
Saranne's face was scarlet with ex
citement and joy; Little Make-Believe
was no less har"py, but she showed It
in a different day.
Her face was very pale, and her eyes
were full of tears.
"Let's read it again." said Saranne.
0 they read It again, and read It a
trl time, aj-4 iarasne criedi '
J :::::: by b. l. farjeon. I
iiil j
THE SLUMS.
Jit
"It ain't no dream! It's real!"
Undoubtedly it was real, but for all
that nothing would have surprised Lit
tie Make-Believe less than to see the
letter and envelope suddenly whisked
away.
It was too good to believe. They had
never received a letter and here was
one.
They had never been In the country.
and here was an invitation to go. not
for an hour, or a day, bnt for a few
days an Invitation from gentlemen
who had proved themselves their dear
est friends.
That two such stupendous, amazing,
almost Incredible events should occur
all in a moment required a good deal
of getting over.
"Did you ever," askea saranne. "pre
tend anything half so wonderful,
Make-Believe?"
"No," replied Little Make-Believe, "1
never did. Saranne."
It required such a very great deal of
getting over that they had not got half.
no, nor a quarter over it before a vis
itor entered unannounced.
It was Thomas Dexter, who had also
received a letter with reference to the
proposed holiday.
His appearance aid not surprise
them; it would be difficult to say what
would have surprised them just then.
Directly Thomas Dexter entered Sa
ranne said to him:
"I wish you would do me a favor,
Mr. Dexter."
"What is it?"
"Pinch me hard!"
Thomas Dexter pinched her hard, so
hard that she gave a scream, and cried
in the same breath:
"I don't mind, so long as it ain't a
dream."
Thomas Dexter understood the mean
ing of these proceedings.
That the girls should be astonished
was quite natural; he was astonished
himself.
But it was a good opportunity for the
sisters, and he was' glad for their
sakes.
When he had succeeded in somewhat
calming them, he explained the object
of his visit.
Their distant friends had shown not
only kindness, but thoughtfulness, and
he was the appointed agent to carry
out their wishes.
"The question is," said Thomas Dex
ter, "as you've made up your minds to
go (as they had made up their minds
to go! what a thing to say!) "the ques
tion is, what are you going in?"
Their faces dropped. What were
they going in?
It was indeed a question, for the
clothes they stood up in were all the
clothes they possessed.
"It wouldn't do," continued Thomas
Dexter, ."to so as you are. You must
each of you have a decent frock and a
decent pair of shoes, and a decent hat
or bonnet. How is it to be done .'"
Down to earth they came, straight
from their seventh heaven.
It was Saranne's eyes now that .were
filled with tears, and Little Make-Be-
lieve's face that was red.
Yes. Mr. Dexter," said Little Make-
Believe, sadly; she hardly dared to
look at Saranne, "it's very good of you
to remind us. We can't go as we are,
and we ain't got nothink better to wear
than what yer see. It'd make people
talk, and Mr. Deepdale'd be sorry he'd
arksed us. I'm afeered, arter all, we
shan't be able to go."
"Oh. don't say that Make-Believe,"
sobbed Saranne, "don't say that!"
"It must be sed If it's got to be Bed,"
was Little MaKe-Beiieve a resyouse.
Saranne. my dear, yer know, don't
yer, that I'd sell my two hands if any-
body'd buy 'em so as I could get yer a
frock and boots and a hat? I would,
sir, indeed, indeed I would!"
"I qiite believe it," said Thomas
Dexter.
I wouldn't mind staying at home
hlle saranne went; I'm happy enough
so long as I know she's enjoying of I
herself. But if it can't be done, it can't
be done: we couldn't do nothink 'arf
so wicked as to give Mr. Deepdale and
Master Walter cause to be ashamed of
us when they set eyes on us. Ana they
rnnldn't do nothink else but be
ashamed if we was to go down to them
with such things as those on us
A sneech which only caused Sa-
renne's tears to flow more freely.
"Can't vou see no way. Make-Be-
Here?" asked Thomas Dexter.
x0, Mr. Dexter," replied Little
Make - Believe, mournfully, T can't
it's as fur out of my reach as the
stars. We ain't got a friend in the
world, except you, and Mr. Deepdale
and Master Walter, and you've done
more for us than ever we d a right to
expect. That being in tne country
where everything's so beautiful and
SWeet It must be, though me and Sa
has never seed it-they should
ranne
think of us at all shows the feeling
they've got for us. God bless 'em for
it! There's the pawnshop but we
ain't got nothing to pop. If they'll take
me, I'd go and pledge myself ttjia
rainute, but they know their book,
the pawnbrokers do. No, Mr. Dexter,
there's no way aa I can see.
..... I .
"As to pretending, now. Ain't there
nothing to ba wade oat of that?" .
said, so pathetically that Thomas Dex
ter resolved to torment her no longer.
"Don't make game of me, sir." .
"I don't mean to do so. Don't think
that of me. But now, Little Make-
Believe, I'm a-going to pretend."
She smiled pitifully.
"Who knows? Something might
come of It.' But yer mustn't look at
me; it's a new game to me, and it
might spoil the luck." .
Little Make-Believe laid her head on
the table, not in obedience to his wish,
but because grief impelled her to
do so.
Saranne's back was turned, and she
could not see him.
"I pretend," continued Thomas Dex
ter, "that on Thursday, as sure as ever
it comes round, yon and Saranne shall
be taken to Victoria station and put in
a second class railway carriage, with
tickets for Rochester. I pretend that
yer shall both of yer have new frocks,
ana new boots ana new hats.- I pre
tend that before yer go to sleep to
night yer shall write a little note to
Mr. Deepdale you've got his address
in that letter thanking him for his
invitation and telling him you're com'
ing. I pretend that yer shall go to
"morrow, or before yer two hours older
there's plenty of shops open; it's
only eight o'clock yer shall go out and
buy the frocks, and the boots, and the
hats,. if you don't care to wait. I pre
tend that you've got money to pay for
'em, I pretend that yer shall come to
me and confess that I ain't making
game of you. And thirdly and lastly.
as the preachers say, if my pretending
ain't as good as your pretending, my
name ain't Thomas Dexter, and III
never try to pretend no more."
A deal silence followed; there was
not a sound in the room except that of
Saranne's suppressed sobs.
Surprised and relieved at the silence
for while Thomas Dexter was speak
ing she was in an agony of torture
and moved by Saranne's sobs. Little
Make-Believe raised her head, and was
about to clasp Saraxne in her arms,
when she started to her feet with a
cry of almost delirious ecstacy.
For on the table lay a .sheet of note
paper and an envelope, stamped, and
by their side lay two golden sover
eigns. " " ,
Look, Saranne, look!" exclaimed Lit
tle Make-Believe, beating her hands
together, and pulling Saranne from
her chair. "He wasn't pretending at
all, and he wasn't mocking us! Oh,
Saranne, Saranne!" -
The revulsion of feeling was, indeed.
almost too much for her; she laughed
and cried in a breath, and Saranne,
seeing that heaven had opened its
gates to them, laughed and cried with
her.
It was a long time before they were
sufficiently composed to speak calmly
of the matter.
"I didn't think it was in Mr. Dexter."
said Saranne. "to be so out-and-out
good to us. I'd like to kiss him."
He was very kind," said Little
Make-Believe, "but the two sovereign's
don't come out of his pocket. Yer
mustn't forget that."
"He gave 'em to us, Make-Believe"
"And Mr. Deepdale sent 'em to us.
Don't yer see what it says in the let
ter? 'You've only to say yes, and go
to Mr. Dexter, who will arrange every
thing for you.' Well, instead of our
going to him he's coming to us. Now,
Saranne, we must write the letter to
Mr. Deepdale."
"Oh my, Make-Believe! What shall
we say?"
I don't know; we must think.
You're the best writer, Saranne. Take
hold of the pen. It wouldn't do to
write something out of a book or a
newspaper, would it?"
Little Make-Believe walked up and
down the room, and puckered ner
brows, and closed her eyes, and rubbed
her forehead, and looked into the cor
ners of the ceiling, as many a per
plexed writer has done before her,
while Kflranne mit the pen in her
mouth, and gazed anxiously at the
brain-worker,
Little Make-Believe wanted to think
of something very, grand to say, but
nothing 'grand would come; her mind
had, become a perfect blank.
"Make haste, Make-Believe, or all the
shops will be shut."
iThis quickened her somewhat, ana
she said, "You'd best commence with
To-night. That'll show we're writing
to-night."
Saranne after much preparation: put
her pen ana paper and then discovered
she had no ink. Little Make-Believe
ran out and bought a penny bottle, and
by the time she returned had formu-
lated her Ideas
"Now then, Saranne, .'To-night. Re
spected Sir, and dear Master wai
ter' "
"That's nice," said Saranne, 'and
dear Master. Walter.' Goon."
" 'We're that grateful to yer, con-
tinned Little Make-Believe, "that we
don't know what to say, except that
we're coming, and we shall never,
never, never forget your kindness.
From the" bottom of our hearts' and
that'll do, I think," said Little Make-
Believe, pulling up suddenly
"We must write our names, Make-
Believe, or they won't know who it's
from."
So they wrote their names, one un
der the other, and put the letter into
the envelope. . ,
Then they went out to post it ana
to look at the clothes shops.
"I hope the postman won t suck to
If said Little Make-Believe as after
some hesitation, sne aroppea uie iKuei
into the pillar box; "I've a good mind
to wait here till he comes, to see as he
doesn't take it out or tne Dag unu.
pocket It hisself."
But with the delightful task in view
of spending money in clothes she gave
,i tvmf (Im and walked away from
... it. . t Ifii rrnul t t
toe puuir cox wwi wnuy fcvm!
I00U fctmna mv, '
Praises American Woijqoh.
Many men seem to have little to
do in these days but to discuss women,
An ex-President, not to speak of lesser
personages, has gone to the trouble of
defining their sphere and pointing out
their virtues and vices, and now it is
the Japanese Minister to the United
States who is turning his attention to
this enigma of the ages, so called.
His excellency Kogoro Takahira dis
cusses his subject in ' the Woman's
Home Companion, and takes a line
somewhat different from that of some
previous critics. He has nothing but
praise, and high praise at that, for the
American woman.
He goes so far as to attribute the
friendship of the United States for
Japan to her influence, and of this
friendship he says:
If one could only magnify and mul
tiply fifty million or eighty million
times the beauty and charm of friend
ship between man and man this would
give just a glimpse of the splendor of
a friendship between two great na
tions. r
The typical American woman does
not concern herself, it is true, with the
details, the machinery, the knotty
complications of international politics,
Indeed, from the very nature of things
there are few women of any nation
who have an intimate knowledge of
the inner workings of such affairs.
But in their larger outlines almost
all international questions of magni
tude seem to claim the American wom
an's stamp of approval, and woe to
those measures upon which she
frowns. The story of her interest in
these measures, her attitude toward
them and her comprehension of them
is the highest tribute that could be
paid to the intelligence of American
womanhood. .
In the troublous and trying hours of
Japan during the- last two years I
have had many opportunities to ob
serve with admiration and gratitude
the sympathetic intelligence of the
women of America in reading the
aspirations of our country and inter
preting their significance. Athwart
our path were mountainous obstacles
which to western eyes seemed quite
impossible for -us to scale.
Perhaps it was. the pluck of a com
paratively small nation that refused
point-blank to consider these obstacles
insurmountable that appealed to the
American woman. What we were try
ing to do spoke to the heroic in her
nature, and her sympathy was as sen
sitive as an Aeolian lyre when at last
we successfully weathered the storm.
In these two eventful years I have
been made to see two trails which
are conspicuous among the many re
markable attributes of the intelligent
American woman. The first is the ten
acity with which she holds to her con
victions. This stands out in no tin-
certain outline. If she does not com
pass every detail, she certainly takes
good care that what she has in her
grasp does not escape her.
That is not all. She sees to it that
the same conviction is somehow con
veyed to the minds of her friends.
Once she is thoroughly possessed with
a conviction and once in the arena, I
know of no missionary who can claim
the distinction of being her superior
in zeal and ability. It would perhaps
be difficult for even a gifted historian
to trace accurately all the national and
international events in the salons and
boudoirs whence they came; but it
would be very much more difficult to
prove that these epochal events have
had nothing to dowiththegentler hours
of a nation's life, with silken arenas,
with smiles and whispers behind fans.
And in America this fact seems to be
so emphasized, by the exceptionally
high intelligence of the American
woman that I do not see how any one
with grace deny it.
His excellency comments with par
ticular satisfaction and some amaze
ment in the unselfishness of American
friendship for Japan. ; He says:
"There are many phases in the Far
Eastern question which the United
States can very properly look upon
through the eye3 of self-interest. The
press and a few'people called the at
tention of the American public to these
points. The public remained entirely
indifferent to them. , -
"May it not be true that this peculiar
feature of our friendship, so foreign
to the self-interest basis of diplomacy,
has had its root in the work of the
American woman, who is not always
the best hand to count how much su
perior is the value of steel exports to
Japan over so airy a subject as an
international friendship?" '
The Art of ConrersaUnn.
To one woman who is thoroughly
satisfied with her ability to maintain
a reasonable share of interesting con
versation there are scores who dis
trust their own powers to the point of
awkwardness. One has to note the be
havior of guests at a reception given
in honor of some more or less famou
personage to realize that. The few
accept the presentation easily and
gracefully, make little speeches that
exactly fit and go away leaving an
agreeable impression. The many look
uncomfortable, appear awkward and
say the wrong things if they find
speech at all.
There is no short cut to grace of any
description. Familiarity with an art
brings ease, of course, and nothing
broacUnt ono Ilka travel aad much
pnbbinf at ilfcowi with humanity,
equaled those of the other sex, because
she has always spent so much time
withm the four walls of home. Con
ditions are improving all the time,
however, and with newspapers, maga
zines ana ciuds tnere is less excuse
for feminine awkwardness in the art
of conversing. Serious discourse has
but little part in our hurried life and
that helps to ease the burdens.
It is said of elderly leaders of so
ciety in one of the larger cities that
her power comes from her ability to
talk to everybody upen the topic that
pleases. She knows enough of music.
art, literature and science to be in
teresting to those who make a life
study of those arts, even though she
might not be able to keep afloat in
deeper conversational water. 1 have
no doubt of the truth of the statement,
for her wealth is insignificant by com
parison with thousands of women she
rules and she lacks beauty, style and
grace. She is not even amiable.
I know that it is impossible for many
women to talk to any extent, but
some of them manage to be charming
Dy evincing an interest tnat possesses
drawing power and puts really good
talkers at their best. Nothing is more
irritating that half-hearted interest
and the woman who allows her atten
tion to wander while others are ad
dressing her is likely to be black
listed. A good memory is a veritable
prop, for happy turns of conversation
can be found all through the reading
matter of the present day, and the
retailer of good stories is sure of pop
ularity.
One of the rules of conversation is
never to appear to know things of
which you are ignorant, but I would
amend that by advising an owl-like
expression of wisdom when subjects
of which you know little or nothing
come up. It generally gives one a
deal of information without detract
ing from one's reputation. So many
chatterers are scattered through the
world that a really well-informed per
son rarely gets an opportunity to ap
pear to the test advantage.
In speaking of a woman who passed
away a year or so ago, at the age of
eighty-seven a group of men and wom
en paid her a splendid tribute. She
had never spoken an unkind word to
the best knowledge of those who knew
her best. Her sickness was long and
painrui, out- ner gentleness never
failed. How she managed to escape
the tint of the gossip habit nobody
knows, for she lived in a neighborhood
where it flourished in a lively fashion.
But there is her record to prove her
innocence Philadelphia Bulletin, .
Latest in Headgrear.
Everyone recognizes the paramount
importance r Hats. Has not one of
our cleverest writers remarked that
one may in time grow to care about a
soul, but that a chapeau makes an in
stant impression?
Well, the latest in hats is warranted
to make an instant impression, for it
boasts the novelty of a high "dome"
is the correct name, though thimble is
more descriptive' crown, covered
plainly a la the pin-cushion with vel
vet, the base being decorated in some
way, with a wreath of shaded dahlias,
repeating the tones of the velvet, "per
haps, or by the much-discussed " but
recrudescent veil, or both together;
while its brim is not unlike an enlarged
ana extended edition or that on a
man's felt, and often enough is of a
totally different color. Our old friend
the felt "flop" bent into unwonted
smartness, and the French sailor gen
erally modernized, are also favored.
Washington Times.
Braids continue to be the leading
trimming for suits, coats and costumes.
Patent leather hats fpr children are
in roll-brim sailor and in Colonial
shapes. . . .
The new Tricornes are most becom
ing. One shape particularly took my
fancy. -
As the season advances, the promi
nence .given to the princess gown is
more apparent.
The new browns are of the mahog
any type. Some of them are quite
brilliant in their make up, but will be
none too extreme to be chosen by the
modish dresser.
Admitting the successful rivalry, for
the time, of the felt hats for fine dress.
it is not to be imagined that there has
been any decadence of favor for hats
made of the rich textile fabrics spe
cially devoted to the millinery of au
tumn and winter.
Attention is still called to chenille
and sewing-silk braids, and to spangled
net, as variants of the velvets in the
objective creation of elegant headwear,
while in the construction, of whatever
materials employed, much use is made
Lof faille taffeta, and soft satin In
combination eff ects moire silks having
recently appeared to contest favor
with those of plain finish; and shot
colorings varying solid colorings, in all
the silks.
Dr, . Kiataburo Yamaguchi, of Toklo,
lifts announce! that Johns Hopkins la
to be the recipient of an esttnplve pvlj
FRIENDSHIP THAT ENDURES
An Essay9 on the Value of True Xaltu
fulness. -
He shall have his own. society. We
can love nothing but nature. The
most wonderful talents, the most meri
torious exertions really avail very lit
tle with us; but nearness or likeness
of nature how beautiful' is the ease
of its victory! Persons approach us
famous for their beauty, for their ac
complishments, worthy of all wonder
for their charms and gifts; they ded
icate their whole skill to the hour and
the company, with very . imperfect re
sult. To be sure, it would be very
ungrateful in us not to praise them
very loudly. Then, when all is done,
a person of related- mind, a brother or
sister by nature, comes to us so softly
and easily, so nearly and intimately,
as if it were the blood in our proper
veins, that we feel as if 6ome one was
gone, instead of another having come
we are utterly relieved and refreshed
it is a sort of joyful solitude. We fool
ishly think, in our days of 6in, that
we must court friends by compliance
to the customs of society, to Its dress.
its breeding, and Its estimates. But
later, if we are so happy, we learn
that only that soul can be my friend,
which I encounter on the line of my
own march, that soul to which I do
not decline, and which does not de
cline to me, but, native of the same
celestial latitude, repeats in its own
all my experience. The scholar and the
prophet forgot themselves, and ape the
customs and cpstumes of the man of
the world, to deserve the smile of
beauty. He is a fool and follows some
eriddv eirl. and not with religious, en
nobling passion, a woman with all thai
is "serene, oracular and beautiful m
her soul. Let him be great, and love
shall follow him. Nothing is more
deeply punished than the neglect of the
affinities by which alone society should
ho fnvmefl. and the insane levity t
choosinff associates by others' eyes.
From Emerson's Essay on "Spiritual
Laws." '
WORDS OF wisdom:
Science is like fire It burns away
dross.
It is not always the man who sits
nn Rtirresi in ciiurcu v w
straightesfc in the world.
How quickly Time sails on, while in
its wake we watch our little vain am
bitions vanish, one by one!
They that on glorious ancestors en
large
Produce their debt instead f their
discharge. Young.
It is wrong to be envious, but just
the same we never see a barefoot boy
with his toe tied ud in a rag that
we do not envy him, sore toe, rag and
all.
When it rests with a man, wholly
and alone, to be right with himself
and God, and none else will know his
strusrsrle or appreciate his victory,
when he contends for wholeness and
uprightness of heart against the-self
which custom, indulgence, position,
have made, then, indeed, "greater is he
that conquereth himself than he that
taketh a city." J. Edwin Odgers. .
Japanese Language.
One may call attention to a strange
item regarding Japan and her art, to
wit: the fact that though the entire
people men, women and children-
are artistic, the word "art" does not
exist in the language. So great a
scholar as Basil Hall Chamberlain, for
a score of years professor of Japanese
in the Imperial University in Tokio,
say3 that the Japanese language has
no genuine native word for what we
call "art." "Bijutsu," he tells us, "is
the word that the Japanese use. The
inventor of this word put together two
Chinese characters, one 'bi,' meaning
beautiful, and the other, 'jutsu,' mean
ing craft, device, legerdemain."
For nature, too. from . w men nas
come so much of the inspiration of
'biiutsu." strangely enough, there
seems to be no adequate native word.
Professor Chamberlain says that the
nearest equivalent are "seismisu,.
characteristic qualities, "bambutsu,"
all things, and "tennen," spontaneous
ly. While he regards the absence of
the word "art" as a weakness, he
thinks the absence of a word for na
ture may be quite the opposite.
"Nature" he regards as a rroteus;
It times a deistic synonym or euphem
ism for the Creator, at other times the
beings or things created, or the uni
verse which man left out, or the im
pulses of man as opposed to his con
scious acts or'that which Is reason
able and proper, or again with theolo
gians exactly the opposite. "In
short," says the professor, "the word
'nature' stands for everytmng in geu-
-. j, .ti,in.4n nartlcillsir
M'!ll 9M IOr IlUlliliJJi 1'"
impossible to define, and serving only
aff a will-o'-therwisp to mislead meta
phorically minded persons."-Impres-
sions Quarterly.
His Sleeping Flaee.
Dr. David G. Wylle, of the Scotch
Dcivtrterian Church, uentrai -ur
West, quoting from the Bible the say
urva nnt Rleeo. lest thou come to
poverty," told the following story of
sleepy. boy to a gamers
boys: ...
'This boy," said tne uvciui, m.
, . - eafraPQl
been away irom nome "'"7
weeks, so the mother wrote w w
employer: ' - u. .
"'Dear Sir My son is no uuuu
writing letters. Will you piease ui
ns how he is getting on. And do tell
us where he sleeps nights.
The emnlover. who in tms case w
a grocer, sent an immediate reply.
"'Your son,' said he, 'sleeps in th$
Rtore in the daytime. I don't- Know
where be sleeps at night. '
Tnnflnese form so considerable ft patt
of the population of Seattle that tbo
Government finds It COnvtClent tO M
tp.bJf?? it ipW pMttfltof tit tfcta' .:,
r
GOOD
H ROADS.
Care of tbe Roadsides
OK. O the casual observer the
3 jl neglect of country road-
O I O sides is more than appar-
)R ent. Weeds and brush
IKOTe grow to the wheel tracks,
while old, decaying stumps
and rail fences contain a wealth of
foul brambles, briars and ' . annual
weeds. Here and there aa ambitious
farmer cleans out the old rubbish and
plows the land to the road. But the
neglect of the great majority puts the
efforts of the few at naught, and the
evil looking roadsides, coupled with a
wretched roadbed, cannot fail to give
the passing traveler an unfavorable Im
pression of Eastern farming in general.
A law on the statute books of New
York State provides for clearance of
weeds and brush from the actual road,
and directs the path masters to see to
its enforcement; but,' like many other
excellent laws, it is nearly a dead let
ter. Overseers dislike to make trouble
for their neighbors, and aside from
their own farm fronts, can do little to
better the situation. By the way, this
overseer business is very much, of a
farce. A man is delegated- to do a
certain thing with absolutely no au
thority or recompense.
To the botanist the average roadside
would be a delight. In a ten mile
drive one may see the various weeds
growing rampant, and one does not have
to take the back roads, either. Bur
docks, tansy and the dangerous poison
ivy grow on the sides of the. main
roads, apparently unchecked, up to the
limits of many smaller towns with no
thought as to future damage or effort
to check the growth. Brush of all de
scriptions form the background in
many cases, quite .hiding the fields and
farmsteads. Along wooded byways
saplings are allowed to grow on the
road, and in case of a bad storm it is
sometimes almost Impossible to travel
on the back roads. Nor is this condi
tion confined to any one locality.
Yet the remedy is easy, as the ex
perience of many farmers will testify.
First of all, one should dispose of the
stump and rail fences. Such have had
their day. Fire is a quick and easy rid.
dance, after first taking out what will
do for firewood. Many "people, espe
cially in the smaller towns, will draw
away the old stumps if given tbe privi
lege. After removing the stone piles
the plow and harrow will reduce every
thing to order, when the land may be
seeded. Along pasture fields one need
not go to so much trouble. Put In a
good woven -wire fence just in front
of the old, and the stock, especially
sheep, will save all trouble keeping
the brush and weeds down. It is, how
ever, a good plan to remove the stone
to some hollow, even along the pas
tures.
The brush problem through ' woods.
along the fences of abandoned farms,
and also many rented ones, is perhaps
the worst to deal with. It Is worst
than aggravating to do a nice job
cleaning one's own side and have' the
opposite so overgrown as to force trav
el over to the new fence. Yet such
places can be counted by dozens along
the back roads. The only practical
remedy Is for the State to take a hand.
Either enforce the law, enact a new
one or make an appropriation. Where
anything Is done, the usual way is to
cut the brush and briars, leaving them
where they fall. This only aggravates
the matter. In a very few years the
shoots grow to rival the former resi
dents, with numbers augumented
most discouragingly. The old brush
seems to act as a stimulating mulch,
forcing the new. to unheard of. en
deavor.
Some forty rods of worse than ordi
nary roadside through a piece of woods
on this place was dealt with and ex
cellent results were obtained. We
could not use fire to clean out the bot
tom, but were compelled to pull out
the results of former cuttings. .The
green brush was then cut as low as
possible, and all was loaded on a wag
on and drawn away. Next some
stumps that had projected, into the
road since it was built were dug out
and the road was graded straight. " A
good wire fence was strung along each
side. Since this was done we have
made a practice of cutting all brush
and weeds closely each summer, until
now they are well used up. The re
cent and last cutting was very easy:
in fact," we used tbe mower most of
the way, what was formerly a very
unsightly road being now a very pleas
ant driveway.
Along cultivated fields I aim to pull
the larger brush before trying to plow.
using a good strong team and block
and tackle on the larger stuff. Once
thoroughly cleaned, they need no more
attention than any cleared land.
The matter of shade should also re
ceive some attention. Maples or wal
nuts planted along rdadsides close to
the fence will soon furnish nice shade
and when the posts rot off one can nail
to the trees. Apple trees are some
times used, but are usually a nuisance.
They cannot be sufficiently cultivated
to produce -good crops, and if along
pasture the stock will always strain
the fence to get at the apples. Better
use cherries if fruit Is an object . Lo
cust and poplar are also to be avoided,
as the sprouts are apt to undo all the
good work and prove a curse to the
next generation. Chestnuts and but
ternuts are good, but are slow grow
ers. " We hear much of the catalpa bnt
I am unable to say whether or Hot It If
adapted to Eastern conditions. Better
stick to the tried and true. . By follow
ing some such simple plan and doing" ft
little cacb year the farmer of fiill
country could soon work a great
change in tbe-appearance of their land
at light espcnie and money. B,'L