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The Land of Broken Promises f f A Stirring Story

of the Mexican Revolution

—

By DANE COOUDGE Author of "THm Fimhling Fool" "Hiddmn Watmn" "Thm Ttxican." Etc.

Illustration* by Don J.Lavin

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iw * (Copyright. 1914. by Prank A. Ma nicy)

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SYNOPSIS.

" Bud Hooker and Phil De Lancey are forced, owing to the revolution In Mexico,, to give up their mining.claim and return to the United States, in the border town of Gadsden Hooker meets Henry Kruger,

-a wealthy miner, who hints of'a .big min­ing proposition , In Mexico that he wants Hooker to take charge of. '

v / '• -:•••.• CHAPTER H—Continued.

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"That's• tbi'e rock," he' said. '"She rang four hundred dollars to the ton, and: the ledge 1b eight inches wide be­tween the walls. Nice ore, eh? And she lays between shale .and porphyry."

Hiseyessparkled as he carefully replaced the specimen, and then he looked up at Bud. . "I'll let you In on that,"' he .said, "halt and half—or I'll pay two.hundred dollars a~ month and a bonus. You alone. Now how about lt?">->;

For a moment Hooker looked at him as if to read his thoughts, then. he.

?}•.•$ shook his head and exhaled his'smoke regretfully. •>

- fli* " "Nope," he -sald. ,fMe and Phil are >' J, pardners. We work together."

'I'll give you three hundred'." cried Kruger, half rising in his chair.

grunted Bud, "we're pard-

^ ^ ».»«., snorted the mining man, i And Hung awayin disgust. But as he

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1 tm LWft'l "I'll GIve You Three Hundred!" Cried

Kruger.

I %* geared the door a new thought struck §< - J":' him and he came as quickly back.' v£

V(& "You can do what you please about. :• v? your Pardner»" he, said. t "I'm talking

Jty to you!,' Now—will you think about mk*t It?" ' ' v V3W -

p-iki ^ w "Sure!" returned Hooker.*- A 4

v- " V •v^yr.^'Weij, -thenf/l snapped Kruger, "meet 'me at the Waldorf In an hour!" < v

W CHAPTER 'III. 9t 0 / /

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On the untrammeled frontier, where , h0piSm<Mt men are willing to pass for what iik?1*-3 they are without keeping ' up any

"front," much .oft the private (business. My well as tl^e general devilment; Is transacted in the back -rooms of sa^ loons. .The Waldorf was nicely fur­nished In this regard. '

•ft«^..a drink at the bar, in which De .Uncey and Hooker Joined, Henry

' Kruger led the way casually to the rear.andlnafewmoiqenUytheywere safely cloeeted. ' •' , /"Now," began Kruger, as he took a siBat by the table and ta«ed them with •napping eyes, "the first thing I want to makis plain to'you gentlemen Is, if I make any deal, today it's to be with Hr. Hooker. If-you boys are pardners

, you can talk! it over together, but I deal with pne man, and that's Hooker.

^•11 right?" he Inquired, glancing at itieC''; Lancey, andthat ' young '' man' ' nodded Indulgently.

•' {."Very well, th^n," resumed Kniger, "now • to get down to business. This mine that I'm talking about is located dowii here in Sonora within three hours' ride of a big American camp. It isn't any old Spanish mine, or lost padre layout; it'e^;a well-defined ledge running thre^ or four hundred dollars to the ton—and I know right where it is, too. . , "Whaf I want to do is to establish the title to it now, while this revolu­tion is going on,'and make a bonanza out of it afterward. Of. course, if you bop don't want to go back into Mex­ico, that, settles it;' but if ybu do go, and I let you in on the deal, you've got to see It through, or I'll lose the whole thing. So make up your minds, and if you say. you'll go, I want you to stick to it!" '

"We'll go, all right," spoke up De Lancey, "it it's rich enough."

"How about yoi^?" inquired Kruger, turning impatiently on Bud; "will you .go?" ,

"Yes, I'll go," answered Bud sullen­ly. "But I ain't stuck on the job," he added. ; "Jest , about get it opened up when a bunch of rebels will Jump in and take everything ^re've got" •

"Well, you get a title to it and . pay your taxes and you can come out, 'then," conceded Henry Kruger. : .

"No," grumbled Hooker, "if I gp 111 stay with it" He glanced at his pard-ner at this, but he) for one, did not seem to be worried. .. "I'll try any thing—once!" lfe ob­served with a sprightly air, and Bud grinned sardonically at the 'veil-worn phrase.

"Well," said Kruger, gazing inquir­ingly from one to the other, "is Jt a .go? Will you shake hands op it?"

"What's the proposition?" broke in De Lancey eagerly.

"The deal is between me and Hooker," corrected Kruger. "I'll give him three hundred a month, or an

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equal share in the mine, expenses to be shared between us."

"Make It equal shares," said Hook­er, holding out his hand, "and I'll give half of mine to Phil." > '

"All right, my boy!" cried the old man, suddenly clapping him on the shoulder, "I'll go'you—and you'll never regret it," he added significantly. Then, throwing off the air of guarded secrecy which had characterized his actions so far, he sat down and began to talk.

"Boys," he said, "I'm feeling lucky today or I'd never have closed this deal. I'm letting you in on orie of the biggest things that's ever been found In Sonora. Just to show you how good It is, here's my smelter 'receipts for eight hundred pounds 'of picked orer—. one thousand and twenty-two dollars! That's the first and last ore that's ever been shipped from the old Eagl4 Tail. I dug it' out myself, and sacked . it and shipped it; and then some of them crooked Mexican officials tried to beat me out of my title and J blowed up the whole works with dynamite!•'/.ji ;• i "Yes, sir, clean as a whistle! I had my powder stored away, in the drift, and the minute' I found out I .was euchred I laid a fuse to it and brought the whole mountain down. That was ten years ago, and old Aragon and the agen'te mineral have had the land located ever since. , .

"I bet they've spent five thousand pesos trying to find that lead, but be-, lng nothing but a' bunch .of ignorant, Mexicans, of course .they never found

. nothing. Then Francisco Madero comes in aiid fires the agente mineral off his job and old Aragon-lets the land revert for taxes. I've got a Mexican that keep* me posted, and ever since he sent me word, that the title had lapsed I've, been crazy to relocate that claim.' ) '•

"Well,; now, that don't look so bad, does it?" he asked, beaming paternally at Bud. "There ain't a man in town that wouldn't: have jumped at the chance, if I was where I could talk about It, but that's just what I couldn't do. I had to find some stranger that wouldn't senqe what mine I' was talk­ing about and then'git him to go. in on i t b l i n d . ; • • • • • . ( ; [

"Now j here's the way I'm fixed, boys," he exclaimed, brushing his un­kempt; beard:.and., smiling craftily. "When I dynamited the Eagle Tail it was mine by rights, but Ciprlano Ara­gon—he'sthe big Mexican down at old Fortuna—and Morale's, -the -mineral agent,'had buncoed me out of the title.

"So, according to law, I bktwed .up their mine, and if I ever. showed up down there'I reckon they'd throw me into Jail.' And If at any time they find out that you're working for me,' why, we're ditched—that's all! They'll put you out of business. So, after we've made our i^reement and-I've told you .what to do, I don't want to hear a •word out of you—I don't "want you to come neir nie, nor even write me ai letter—Just go" ahead the best you can until you win out or go. broke. :j. -

"It ain't a .hard, proposition," he coptinuedi *'lt you keep your mouth shut, but if thejr^ tumble, it'll be a light to it' ifinislt. I'm^ not saying this for you. Hooker^ because I know you're sate;'I'm saying It for your pardner here. You talk too much, Mr. De Lan­cey," be chided, eying him with sud­den severity. "I'm afraid of ye!" '

"Ail right,' broke in Hooker good-naturedly; VI reckon we ' understand. Now go ahead and tell us where this mine is and who there Is down then to look out for."

"The man to look out . tor," an •wered Kruger with Venom, "Is Ciprl­ano Aragon. He's the man that bilked me out of the mine once, and. he'll do H again If he can. When I.went down there—It was ten years and more ago -^-1 wasn't on to those Spanish ways of his, and he was so dog-goned polite and friendly 'I thought I could thist him anywhere. • "He owns a big ranch and mescal still,'runs cattle, works a few placers, sends opt pack-trains, and has every Mexican and Indian In the country In debt to him through his store, so if he happens to want any roagh work done there's always somebody to do it

"Well, just to show- you how he did me, I got: to-nosing round those old Spanish workings east of Portuna and finally I run across the ledge that I'm-telling you about, not tax from an abandoned shaft But the Mexican mining laws are different irom ours; and an American has lots of troublci anyway, so I made -a trade 'with old Aragon that he shoulgjocate the claim for me under -a power of attorney. Didn't -Jniow him then like, I do now. The papers had to be sent to Mocte-zuma and Hermosillo, and to the City of Mexico and back, and while I was waiting around I dug In on this lead and opened up Urn prettiest vein of quartz you ever saw in your life.' Here's a sample of it, and it's sure rich."

He banded De Laincey the familiar, piece of quartz and proceeded with his story.

"That ore looked so good to me that' I couldn't wait—I shipped it before 1; got my title. And right there I made my mistake. When Aragon saw the gold in that rock he just quietly re­corded the concession in his own name and told me to go to glazes. That's the greaser of it! So I blew the whole mine upland hit for the'border. That's the Dutch of it, I reckon," he added grimly. "Anyway, my old man was Dutch."

He paused, smiling over the mem­ory of his misplaced credulity, and Hooker and De iiancey joined in a hearty laugh. From the town bum that he had first seemed this, shabby:

little man had changed in their eyes until now he was a border Croesus, the mere recital of whose adventures conjured up in their minds visions of gold and hidden treasure.

The rugged face of Bud Hooker, which had beeh set in grim lines from' the first, relaxed as. the tale proceeded and his honest eyes, glowed with ad-mlratibn as he heard the well-planned scheme. As for De Lancey, he could hardly restrain his enthusiasm, and, drawn on by the contagion, Henry Kruger made maps and answered ques­tions until every detail waB settled.

After the location had been marked, and the lost tunnel charted from the corner monuments, he bade them re­member it well and destroyed every vestige of paper. Then, • as a final ad­monition, he said:

"Now go in there quietly, boys— don't hurry. Proepect around a little and the: Mexicans 'will all come to you and try to sells you lost mines. Cruz Mendez is the man you're looking for —he's honest, and he'll take you to the Eagle Tail. After that. you can use your own judgment. So good-by"—he took them by the hands—"and don't talk!" • ' ... j

He field up a warning finger as they parted, . and Btid' nodded briefly in reply. Silence was a habit with him, desert-bred, and he nodded his head for two.

' ' - - * 1 J n1- *- CHAPTER IV. \ N ' '

From the times of David and Jona­than, down, to the present day ^he world has been full of young men sworn' to friendship and seeking ad­venture in 'pairs.- "Pardneis," they call them in the west and though the word has not crept into the dictionary .yet, it is as different from "partner" as a friend is from a business associate. : They travel together, these pardners of the West, and whether they be cow­boys- or ."Cousin Jacks," the boss who fires 'one of - them' Urea both of them, and they.gotshare and. share in every­thing.

, >Bud. Hooker, and Philip De Lancey had' met by chance In El Paso when the .revolution was Just beginning to boll, and the city, was swarming with adventurers'. The. agents of the rebels were everywhere, urging Americans to. join their cause. Military preferment, cash payments,; and . grants of land w.ere the baits they used, but Hooker stood out from the first ahd took De Lancey with him. A Mexican promise did not paes current where he was born and they went * to the mines in­stead. . , Then the war broke out and, while fugitives streamed,! out of stricken Chihuahua, they Anally struck out against the tide, fighting their way to a certain mine far back in the Sierra Madres, "Where they, could dig the gold on shares.

Behind them the battle waged; Casas Grandes was.taken and retaken; Juarez, Agua Negra and Chihuahua fell; Don Porflrio, the Old Man of Mex-ico, went out and Madero. took . his place;- and still they worked for their stake.,' -'V •. .Vr

Then new arms and ammunition flowed in from across the border; Orozco and hie rebef chiefs went out, and the breath of war fanned higher against the hills. At last the -first broken band of rebels came straggling by, and, reading hate and envy In their lawless eyes, the Americans dug up their gold at sundown and rode, all the night for their lives.

And now, welded together by all that toll and danger, they were pardners, cherishing no. delusions as to each other's strength or weaknesses, but joined together for better or worse. Jt was the' last thing that either of

^hem expected, but three days after th«y fled out of Mexico,' and with all their money unspent, the hand of fate seized upon them and sent them back to another adventure.

It was early morning again, with crowds along the street, and as • they ambled slowly along toward the line the men on the corners stared at them: The bunch of cowboys gased: at Bud, who sported a hew pair of highrheeled boots, and knew him by the way he

.rode; and the mining men looked searchlngly at De Lancey^ as if to guess the secret ot his quest.

A squad ot mounted troopers, riding out on border patrol; gazed after Uiem questloningly, but ^Bud and Phil rode on soberly, leading their pack, and headed for Agua Negra acrou the line.

It was ia grim place to; look at, this border fown of Agua Negra, for the war had swept lt twlce. A broad waste of level land lay; between it and the prosperous American city, and ach>ss

'this swath, where the Mausers and machine guns had' twice' mowed, lay. the huddle of low houses which marked the domain of Mexico.

Fussy ,little customs officials, lurk­ing, like spiders in their coopedfup guardhouses, rushed out as they crossed the deep trench/and' demanded their permit to bear Arms. The . mo­ment they crossed the line the air seemed to be pervaded with Latin ex­citability and Indian jealousy, but De Lancey replied in florid Spanish and before his polite assurances and ful­some compliments It was dissipated In a moment

"Good! Pass on, amigos," cried the beady-eyed little jefe, pasting a label on -their pack. "Adlos, aenor." he added, returning Phil's salute with a mil Itaiy flourish, and with a scornful glance at Bud, be observed that the gentleman was muy caballero. " "Huh!" remarked Bud, as they rode on through the town, "we're in Mexico all right, all light Talk with both hands and get busy with your eye­brows—and holy Joe, look at them pelones!" . • 4

The, pelones referred to were a squad of Mexican federal soldiers, so-called from their heads being shaved, and they were; marching doggedly to aqd fro' through the, thorny piesqult bushes In response to shouted onlers from an officer. Being from Zacatecas, where'the breed is short, they stood about as high as their guns; and their, crumpled linen suits and flapping san-dale detracted sadly from the soldierly effect

Big and hulking, and swelling with thtf pride of his kipd,' Hooker looked them over slowly, and spoke his hid­den "thought.

"I wonder," he said, turning to Phil, "how many of them I could lick with one hand?"

"Well, they're nothing but a lot-of petty convicts, anyway," answered De Lancey, "but here's some boys ahead that I'll bet could hold you,, man for man, husky as you are, old fellow."

They were riding paet a store, now serving as an improvised barracks, and romping about in the streets were

a; pair of tall Yaqui Indians, each deco­rated with a cartridge-belt about5 tils hips in token of his military service.

And a group of others, sunning themselves against the wall, looked up at the Americans with eyes as fearless as mountain eagles.

"Yes, that's right" admitted Bud, returning "their, friendly greeting, "but we'll never have no • trouble with them." 'v..-

"Well, these Nacionales are. not bo bad," defended Phil, as they passed the Btate soldiers of Sonora on ;the street, "but they're Just as friendly as the Yaquls." ,

"Sure," Jeered Bud, "when they're sober! But you get a bunch of "em drunk and ask 'em what they think, of the gringos! No, you got to show me —I've seen too much of 'em." ,v:

"You haven't seen as much of 'em as I have, yet," retorted De Lancey quickly. "I've been all over the repub­lic, except right here in Sonora, and I swear these Sonorans here look; good to me. There's no use holding, a grouch against them, Bud — they haven't done us any dirt"

"No, they never had no chance," grambled Bud, gazing grimly to the south. "But wait till the hot weather

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Made Maps and Answered Questions • Until Every DeUil Was Settled.

comes and the revoltosos come, out of their holes; wait till them Chihuahua greasers thaw out up in \the Sierras and come down to get some .fresh mounts: Well, I'll tell 'em one thing," he ended, reaching down to pat his horse, "they'll never "get old Copper Bottom here—not unless they steal him at night It's all right to be cheer­ful about this, Phil, and you keep right on being glad, but I got a low-down hunch that we're going to' get in bad."

"Well, I've got Just as good a hunch," came back De Lancey, "that we're go­ing to make a killing." ' : ,

"Yes, and speaking about killings," said Bud, "you don't want to overlook 'that": . yyy

He pointed at a group of disman­tled adobe buildings standing out on the edge of the town and .flanked by a. segment of whitewashed wall all spat­tered and breached with bullet-holek

"There's where these prize Mexicans of yourn, pulled off the biggest klllliig in Sonora. I was over here yesterday with, that old[ prospector.' and he told me that that . walV' ls the bull-ring. After the first; big'fight they gathered up three hundred and fifty men, more or less, and throwed 'em In a trench along by the wall—then they blowed it over on 'em with a few sticks of dyna­mite and let >m pass for buried. No crosses or nothing. Excuse me, if they ever) break ̂ .loose like that—we might get planted wlth the rest!" "

"By Jove, old top," exclaimed De Lanciey,: laughing 'teaslngly, "you've certainly got the blues today. Here, take something out of this bottle and s e e . I f . l t j i r o n ' t i » e l p u " / " j , 7 . \

He brought out a quart'bottle from hls saddle-baga and Bud drank, and shuddered at the blte of It

"All right,", he said, as he passed It back, "and y^hUe we're talking, what's the matter with cutting It out on boon for this trip?" /'v-

"Whiat are you going to drink, then?" cried De Lancey In feigned •alarm;."water?" •':':\'-:y

"Well, something like that," admit­ted Bud. "Come- on—what do you say? We might get lit up And toll something."'

"Now lookee here, Bud,'' clamored Phil, who had had a few drinks al­ready, "you don't mean to insinuate;

2S'JT£Vl£Z'£2£ HARMONY IN GLOVES might talk in my sleep, you know, and give the whole snap away!"

"No, you're, a good boy when you're asleep, Phil," responded Bud, "but when you get about half shot It's dif­ferent. Come on, now—I'll quit if you will. That'B fair, ain't It?" ^

"What? No little 'toots around town? No serenading the senorltas and giving the rurales the hotfoot? Well, what's the use of "living, Bud, if you can't have a little fun? Drinking don't make any difference, as long as we stick together. What's the use of swearing off—going on record in ad-' vance? We may find some fellow that we can't work any other way—we may have to go on a drunk with him in-or­der to get his goat! But will you stick? That's the point!" ' Bud glanced at him and grunted, and

for a long tiine he rode on In silence. Before them lay a rolling'plain, dip­ping by brioad gulches and dwindling ridges to the lower levels of Old Mex­ico, and on the skyline, thin and blue, stood the knifelike edges of the For-tunas, miles away.

With, desert-trained eyes he noted the landmarks, San Juita mountain to the right, Old Nlggerhead to the left, and the feather-edge of mountains far below; and as he looked he storedvit away iir his mind in case he > should come back on the run some night

It was not a foreboding, but the training of his kind, to note the lay of the ground, and he planned just where he would rids-to keep under cover If he ever made a dash for the line. . But all the timd his pardner was talking of friendship and of the necessity of their sticking together.

"I'll tell you, Bud," he said at last his voice- trembling with sentiment "whether we win or lose, I wbn't have a single regret as long as I know we've been true to, one another. You may know Texas and Arizona, Bud, but 1 know Old • Mexico, the. land, .of manana and broken promises. I know the coun­try, Bud—and. the climate—and the women! : "They play the devil with; the best of us, Bud, these diirk-eyed senorltas1. That's what : make's all the trouble down here between man and man, it's these, women and their ways. They're not satisfied to win a man's heart— they want him to kiH somebody to show that he really loveB them. By Jove, they're a fickle "lot and nothing pleases 'em..'more than sett'ng : man against man,-one pardner against an other." . .*

"We never had any trouble yet" ob served Bud'sent'entiously, ,

"No,' but we're Ukely to," protester De Lanciey. "These .Indian women uj in the Siernis woiildn't turn anybody"! head, but we're going down/Into th« hot country now, where the girls ar< pretty! ta-ra, ta-ra, and we tialk througl the windows at midnight" '

"Well, if yonll cut out the booze,' said Hooker, shortly,; "you can hart 'em all,,for all of me."

"Sure, that'® what^you say, but wal till you see them! Oh, la, la, la"—h« kissed his fingers ecstatically—?T11 bt glad to see.'em myself! But listen Bud, here's the proposition, let's tak» an oath right now, while we"*e start log out,' that whatever comes up we'll always be true to ealch other. If one of u> Is wounded, the' other stays with him; If he's in prison, he gets him out. If he's killed, he avenges his—" , - : . "Say," broke in Bud,* jostling him rudely as he reached Into the saddle^'1

bags, "let me cairy that bottle for a while." . v??1'

He took a blg drink but of lt to pre-yent De Lancey from getting It all and shoved it inside his overalls. ' y

"All right, pardner," 1 he continued. with a mocking! smile, ^anything you say. - I never use oaths myself ' much, but anything to oblige;"

"No, but I mean.it, Bud!" crledj De Lancey. "Here's the proposition now; Whatever happens, we stay with each; other till thla <tyal is finished; on all scratch casea' we match money tp see ^who'B It; and If we tangle over some girl the beat man wins and the other one stays away. We leave it to the girl which one' wins. Will you shake bands on;thatrf /-• "Don't need to," / responded Bud; 111 do It anyway." ' "Well, shake on it, then!" Insisted De Lancey, holding out hla hand.

^Oh, SlUlyl" burst out Bud, hanging his head in > embarrassment, "what's the use of getting mushy ?" . : But' a foment later he leaned ovef In his saddle and locked hands with vlsellke grip.

"My old mim told me not to make no siuch promises," he muttered, "b«t IH do it, being's It's you." " . . y'- ' (TO BE COBTtlNXJKD.)' •/*

NO COMMON SOUP FOR HER

Empress Wanted Local Color and. Thought She Got It, but At­

tendants Deceived Her.

It is rather ticklish work contradict-, ing such an authority as Francis Grlb-ble,' but one ventures to point out that in'his book, "The Life of the Emperor Francis Joseph." he is not quite accu­rate to his . story about the Empress Elizabeth of Austria and the onion soup.. She did not eat it in a cafe.

She had-heard some of her entour­age praising the onion soup they had eaten In a little eating house near the .Central markets, and she' turned to M. Paoli, her official courier, with the remark that she must have some.

"Nothing 1b easier," said M.'Paoli. "I will tell the people of the hotel to make you some." ,

"Never," said the empress; "they, will send me up a carefully prepared soup that won't taste in the least like yours."

She Insisted that some of the soup should be brought to, her from the eating house; an^l, also, that It should be served in the identical crockery. She wtuited all the local color, she

said.. Well, she had her soup^and de­clared it excellent, but M. Paoli has, confessed, that, tearing lest the em­press should be disappointed, he had the soup.'prepared for her in the hotel" and served it In a common plate:and soup tureen hurriedly brougkt from the nearest china shop.

The empress remarked that . the crockery was "delightfully pictur­esque."

'"true," said M. Paoli afterward; "we had chipped it a little with that Object In view." ' 1 '

Famous Polar Ship, -The Fram, the most famous polar

exploring ship in the "world, will not after all, have the honor of being the first vessel to paiss through the Pan­ama canal. After waiting at Colon Bince October 3, she baa now Btarted south on the long journey to the Pa­cific' via the Straits of Magellan. It was feared that an indefinite delay £t Colon might prevent her from reaching San Francisco by the time jKaptain Amundsen plans to start for the Arctic regions next summer. In which case the expedition would have to be postponed for a year.

MUST TAKE AWAY SOUVENIR

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f'y What London Hotel Managers Think •of Americans Who Have the

^ "Collecting" Craze. ',L

^ "Small articles, such as spoons, V «wh trays and other little things,tak-;s et from the big London hotels by * American visitors as souvenirs of

\ i their visits amount in value In the * course of a year to about f100,000."

• This statement, says the' New York

i. -

Times, was nfade by the manager of one of the largest hotels in London.

"The souvenir-collecting craze of American visitors to London," said the manager of another hotel which is the resort of many Americans every year, "is a weakness which is not regarded too seriously by the proprie­tors. No one thing really valuable is taken, of course, and,the article jtaken is almost always some little thing bearing the crest or the name of the establishment Here is a list of the things which are prized by

Americans and which are regularly— and with quite Innocent intention—ap­propriated as souvenirs of a stay at a big London hotel: Silver plated coffee spoons, china ashtrays, silver plated menu stands, card trays, silver plated knives and forks, towels, dress­ing table .trinkets, pin cushions and small pieces of table furniture. All these, of course, bear the name and the crest of the hoteL"

Another hotel keeper told a good story of one American who wanted a plate bearing the name and crest of

fb.4 place. "I am willing to pay for this plate," said the American, "but If you won't take my money, well, I guess I shall take (he "plate all the same." He paid for it—12 cents. It appeared that he had been collecting plates from all the famous hotels in the country—not always paying for them, he admitted—and he proposed giving a dinner to his friends on his return to America at which , every guest would have his food served on different plates; collected from the famous English hotels. ..-

Real Test ' "Before I consent to your engage­ment with my daughter, I must be sure that you are a good business man. Supposing now, a long and hard frost were to come , on and you had a warehouse full of manufactured ice, • what jarould you do with it?";—Flle-gende' Blatter.

2

Land is being built out to sea from the mouths of the Mississippi river at an estimated average rate of 300 feet a year. , . .

" 3^5

~7 Hints That Will Be Found Valuable

By the Woman Who Cares for . ' ^ the Small Things That

Make for Effect

-There is an allurement in the well-gloved hand worth the effort It costs to produce this effect,, but many wo­men are apt to be -careless in the matter.' Now that the season of the silk glove has i arrived, a woman is more than ever likely to: break the charm of her costume with a glove nait in'.harmony with the colors tones Bhe Bhould emphasize. •

Many women wear kid just as long as the weather is not absolutely pro­hibitive. Thfc present fashion Is to wear, all white\gloves for evening; and for afternoon bucuit color in long and short gloves. • But in either silk or kid the effort Is-no longer to match tints to costumes, but to seek a contrast, with due regard for harmony. If gray gloves are choaen and there is gray elsewh'ere in tfy6 toilet it is absolutely necessary , to have them of one tone. Grays which .do not harmonize 'should-not be worn together. V , ^ -

. Twelve-button gloves are generally used'with three-quarter length sleeves, and slxteen-button, gloves are In­tended for any sleeve" cut above the elbowi permitting a little fullness on the arm, while the twenty and twenty-four button gloveer1are correct for full* dress. At the .moment, the sixteen-button length leads for afternoon weir; 'for day w.ear, two-clasp gloves are the mode. \ '.

Clasps, by the way,-are. being great­ly used, on long gloves,' {or they have proved , much more convenient than the button. Buttons have a way of tearing out the buttonholes as well aS flying off at critical moments. On eve­ning. gloves the clasps are properly three in number. Four are not con­sidered to be good form/and two

' proved a failure; because the opening they made at the wrist was too small for comfort ."' •; "• . • , Washable cape gloves are shown ;his spring, and are to be had in tan. and buff. Chamolsette gloveis are in demand as usual and in kid glace Jb *.he" height of mode. Suede has not been worn tor two years in America, hough Paris has used It right along.

There .is .no material in which the , hand looks'better- than ln >iiiuede^ and women should hope that it will come again' Into vogue > with the ..turn. of fashion's wheel. ' .

Among noteltles shown thlB: season , ire white gloves with feather-switched

backs to match any costume. For bridesmaids there , are white gloves embroidered with designs 'o't' small Sowers and an outline of color to form a bracelet In some of these the~ embroidery Is in soft green and white, suggesting the lily of the vail-ley,' that is' especially bridelike.. For the bride herself'plain white gloves with all white sti{,chlng are the rpie.

NOT HARD TO FASHION ROSE

Artlfloial FloWer, 8o Popular Just Now; Can Be Brought Easily

Within the Reach of All.

Artificial flowers are used to; trim apparel from the top of the - towering hats to the toes of the dainty slippers, and unless you have an' exhaustless purs^ lt ls well to' learn to make some

:of tfiese flowers; at home. The. most popular flower. Is the rose

—those: .dalnty French roses used bo much on evening frocks, babies' bon-

,nets,. boudoir caps, sachets, etc.' ' The sihaller roses are made of silk or yutln or of chiffon; the larger of silk, gaiuiie, satin or velvet. These may be made all ot one color or In several pastel shades that blend well. Calyxes

ADAPTED TO ANY MATERIAL

Pretty Frock That Has Many Things to Recommend; It to the Woman

, V >• Refinement

and foliage of green or bronze can be purehaaed at art needle-work shops or oounters. . l;::; -C

The rosebuds of these tiny flowers are made by forming a wee hall of ootton and covering It with silk. It is easy 1 to get the-effect of folded petals with the silk over, this foundation.

To make the larger rosM cut eleven petals each from your two materials, velvet and satln/sllk gauae and silk, or from two tones of the same mate­rial. Make, them larger than you de­sire the finished petal tOi.be, aa two. petals are sewn together td forin one.

Lay the 'two petals together (one velvet, i one satin) back to back. - Sesuin them carefully excepting, at the bot­tom of the petal, and then turn them right side out ' •

Make a Bmall disk of silk or . stiffen"' ing and tack the larger petals around It in. a circle, gradually decreaslng the size of the petals as you near the cen­ter of the flower. Put' one' of the cen­ters you bought in the middle - of each. Fix each petal -bo all joining stitches are concealed, and fasten the rose .to

calyx and foliage:

TRIUMPH OF MODISTE'S ART

Costume of Pompadour Silk Is OM of the1 Prettiest of 8tyles of the

v Present ^son^jfe;S».-'j-.

Llke.a breath of flowers Is the beau-flful costume of, pompadour silk which has been pictured here. Black and white is Inadequate to show the ar­tistic picturesque beauty of •thls goWh. The blouse and draped tunic werei of flofrered silk having a cream ground with shaded; flowers In pink and blue scattered over lt The corsage oiten-

F0R STRENGTH AND -GRACEf

t» W St

lng was filled, with plain cream net with fiat plaitings of the same. The seams were piped with the same gray blue silk which was used for the un­derskirt and the flat girdle. The tunio was weighted' with tassels formed of the flowered silk. ">•

. Advanced 8umm*ri Qlouses. Cotton crepe, voile, fancy crepe and

embroldered volle ̂ are' the' materials used for the popular summer blouses.: They' are fashioned with' the raglan sleeve and finished with collar and cuffs, of fine transparent voile.; They come In tango, malse, t>each,' azure and pink. They are often finished With a cord, which ties in the front

& i v Although the. original of the little

frock In the drawing, was developed In cotton voile. It would be pretty in i number pf other materials. : The orig­

inal frock was a blue voile entirely self-trimmed rave for the girdle, which was of Belt-tone messallne. ' A .little gulmpe of white net with neck ruffle

, Mono(|ramn«ed Towela The towel monogram Is now being

enhanced by an embroidered* frame for the initials. Sometimes the frame to composed of a sample wreath of forget-me-nots or similar small flow-, era, and frequently the frame is' an embroidered ribbon or a simple pad* ded oval. s.'

of the same peeped above the .'neck of the frock. The deep shoulder yoke, almost a bolero in shape,, wasVut ia otM with the upper part of tke sleeves ana trimmed in moussellne-covered buttons. The low;er portion ot ' the b^dy was gathered Into this yoke. The ' skirt consisted <>f three ruffles very full and untrlmmM

; i- Whsn Buying Your New Hit . Women with sallow complexions—^

Should never, , under any clrcum-stances, wear, taupe. Mustard shades : banned, also mauye for both intensify sallowness. Blues need careful selec­tion. They may wear—The new beet­root thades (with confidence), soft tones of fieux rose, and the pinkish brown-rose shades; black or black and white hats may be chosen when In doubt . / '

High-complexloned women — Must never wear any ..color which accentu­ates* their own. They should not wear reddish/violet, but choose, rather, blu­ish,violets. Ban on beetroot , shades and cerise, also all pinks. Tete de negre excellent, also navy blue. Many shades of green can be worn 'with advantage, including the,' new olive green, and the tleulle, which should be taboo with the pale-faced woman. Saxe blue also good; when in doubt black or black and white safer , .

:: r~—— Effect of Colors.

The stout woman should know that yellow increases -her natural slse. Satin also makes her look bigger. Blue is a slightly enlarging tone; white, is statlonairy. Brown, seal brown, navy blue and the deepest ot crimsons are all tonw that make the wearer look sllmmeri f ;

DRESSING THE llTTL^ ONES .'I '

Ideas of Practical |Mother That'Are Worth Consideration by Those Who Must Practice Economy.

One mother, and a wealthy one, at

that, has let It be-understood that she has very positive ideas on the ethics of children's dress. She holds to the simple designs in girls' dresses because, for one reason at least, a child can sooner learn to dress 'herself when the garment is deprived of aU intricacy as to getting it on and off. ' For this season she has the frocks and aprons fastened in the front either in the middle or else in Russian fashion to the side, where the child can reach and see , the fasten­ings. Then she eliminates buttons and buttonholes, for, -although the Items ot time and expense and mend­ing may not be great on one frock, it does count up when one thinks of all the dresses and wear and tear of a year. , Instead of buttons she uses most often sna.p fasteners, for they are most easy for the child to manage

yyyj School Frocks. ,* ̂ "V

- School frocks for little girls have wide Bashes and collars of Roman striped silk, a knotted tie matching the collar and sash. Such a-^frock is of dark blue mohair, made In simplest fashion with a low, waistline and skirt widened by inset pleats at the sides. ;

A broad sash of striped pusay wlliow taffeta is knotted around tie , low waistline and a narrow collar of the same striped outlines a V-shaped neck, a striped silk tie emerging from under the collar. In the V In front, is set a chemisette of fine white machine em­broidery. : : ;,": -

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by hersslf.

Velveteen as Polisher. , Velveteen which has served Its pur­

pose as a dress or blouse should be preserved and made Into polishing cloths. In this connection velveteen is almost as good as chamois leath-er. and cannot only be used for ob­taining a fine polish on satlnwood an^ mahogany furniture, but as a means of brightening silver and plated goods. When soUed the velve­teen may be successfully cleaned by washing it In a soapy lather.

Proper. Training of "Boy's «|MUSCIM Is •Something Worth Highest Df-

gree of Consideration.

In the American Magazine^ Dr. Charles K. Taylor of Philadelphia^ writes" an interesting and practically j ̂ helpful .article .entitled "Your Boy and His Muscles," in which he gives eug-:^^,-gestionis as to proper exercises forf^ ^ young boys. Followinig Is an extract from his article:

"Ffrst of all, when a child is In poor condition of which; the basic ^ cause is some remediable physical de- a feet ttiere ie, little Use in giving »pe-^k; clal exercises .until the. defect, ia m o v e d . F o r - i n s t a n c e ; b r e a t h i n g e x ^ t • ' ercises cannot be nearly »s effective as they should be for a child jsufferiri from large adenoids, nor can you ex-pect good results when a- child, haa-i* ; some physical irritation inducing nerv­ous effects of different kinds. Above r all, you should always know the states^' of the child's heart. If the heait is good, and if there are no serious reme-diable'Ttefects to interfere with your 4*!̂ obtaining good results,. then you can pfggtt take up the matter ..of special exer-ciaeB with some degree of confidence.

• - "when you find Justlwhere your boy Is lacking, whether in chest expan- riig , sion, shoulder girth, arms, iand so on.^Si( ,6ir perhaps In ppeture, if he Is hollow-cheated with shpiilders bent forward,' -then you can take up .the;exercise sUg-^v gested for the different needs. And right here lB"^' word of ^aution, whloh will,be .repeated nbw aiid then. Never carry an exercise beyond the time when fatigue begins^ Do not continue It to exhaustion; but when the boy, , begins .to. - feel- tired; stop at once, if . .-1: lt ls only after two or three motions 1

"It Interests the boy "a great deal. ^ too, to -keep: account" of-his physical measurements. If these are taken* once-a month his interest Is kept up, and' he is stimulated when he finds § that he is actually gaining. Finally, •.•« do not carry on, a special exercise-after It is no longer necessary. What you desire is a jg6od, :all-around devel- j; opment, and when this is.attained'Bper, dal work should cease and general ex-ercise be carefully continued. It A should, be said, too, thtkt such workn

can never be considered as a substi­tute for outdoor 'play. . This latter Is

tally necessary;;'for. all children. These' exercises are to ..be used as ad­juncts—to bring, up to standard any set of muscles which are under-devel­oped."^

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.. War Drumi Ordered Out ' it was some time ago that acting upon the ; recommendations - embodied in a Report by .a . military commission, 1 the French government reached the 'j conclusion thiat the dmm was no long-^-a^hecei^ryC'article of. military '«aulpment. The report set forth th*tt . the drum waB a serious enoumbrance ' '7 In^ marching; that rain impaired lts^^, ^ ); 'usefulness;- that its calls could not bo... distinguished in time of .battle; that It'-'-consumed , a period op two -years to turn out an efficient dnimmer;. and'^/^-.^Si; <| that by : abandoning the use of the drum manyv thousands of youths and yfei

" m e n w ^ u l d b e ; r e l e a s e d ' t f o r ~ a c t i v e . "•service. 7'- ̂

Since the decision , of the French J '(J \ y government otbe^ European powers

i have .followed its example in decree­ing that the "drum must go." ,.

The history at the. drum is both ..clent- and honorable. The Egy^tl employed Itf and the Greeks ascribed ^ its invention to Bacchus. The Spanish '' conqueror Pizarro is sjaW to have found'' .drums in South Americtm temples.. ,The snakes of Ireland.'^e'are iold,. fled from the Emerald Isie before the drum-beats 6f St.. Patrick. The Furi--tans of Neiw England used the drum as a, church/ bell, and it figured fre­quently and romantlcaUy all through • the wars of the revolution and? rebel­lion in' America. ; >-•

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s^mss-. Knew Enough to Ke«p Dry. "It looks llke rain!" , .

- "I beg your pardonl" ' ..#1 a*y

^What doest! vSJ "The weather.

"The weather, my dear, sir;-is a con­dition. '-Rain Is water ln' the act of failing from- the clouds. - It' is impos­sible that they should look alike." /

"What I meant was thajt the sky looked like rain." \

'Equally impossible. '..SP

The sky is the |^ ' blue vault above us—the seeming arch or dome.that we call the heavens. It.^i -does not resemble falling water in the &^ least" . m

"Well, then, if you are so thunder-lngly particular, it looks as If it would rialn." . ' 1 --j£ ''' "As If what would raln?'vSf^,|?'!, - O'.f "-^1 . "The weather, of course." ^ ''""The weather, as before stated, lng a condition, can not rein." , . "The clouds/ then, -confound you. l' posy not know! as much , about it as you do, but I've got enough sense get in out°of it and you haven't, the man, as he raised Ms umbrella walked away in a huff.—Pearson's vv

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Boyj of Five Mental: Wonder. The town of Skow^egan, in Maine,"

boasta of littleRalphard Wlnship Pe-ters, five years:old, an infant wonder of the age, who, after hearing Gray's '•'Elegy In a Country Churchyatd," for i'fi ̂ the first time,' repeated It from mem> ory. '

The little fellow was horn In .Bos- !,«M ton, and lives with ;hls grandparents, Mr. and Sfte. Ralphard .Dean. .• -Manr^|^" spedflllsts have examined him, and they pronounce' him upmost remark- • able ^example of Infantile develop-ment. ,

When he heat's a song once he will immediately repeat the words and sing the tune as if he had been trained for several days. -He - ®*n' pronounce-any word in the English to® dictionary and read the most difficult ^ literature, fie took up reading when but two and one-half• years old.

•'"b,

Congenial- Couple. "Try to put . pe9ple; with Blmilar

tastes. together at dinner, my dear." , "Very welL" ^ "See, for instance, how beautifully

Mr. Wombat gets along with Mrs. Wampus. They could talk for hours . 3 without pausing. He has rheumatism and she knows a remedy for it" >

- , Climbing. " " Crawford—So your wife Is deter-

mined to move? •" v'3<Hi CrabBhaw-rThere's no doubt of it,--'^^

myvboy. She's convinced that she can keep up with a more rapid bunch of neighbors.—Pudk.

Ideal Employment "Those fishermen have a hard life,"

said the man who was looking at the pictures.

"Oh, I don't Know. Think of being able, to go fiBhlng without qulttlnf work.'

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