Kawartha Lakes Public Library Digital Archive

Fenelon Falls Gazette, 11 Oct 1907, p. 2

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«.‘txizanuw’msm an-..” -v...» ... ,......-...~.... . fwwwzheav â€"-.-u i s. l l (gammamumwmn.M...___..;___._ _...._ ' momsdmmwd.w.mn _........._-..,... . .afrrfl'.“ H A .4 infirmâ€"n .. up.“ cum-en: Jwvlpwtt'.:.:< . w : , here.” me and call the ‘ticket of leave man’s kid.’ ” +e+n+n+n+n+n+n+n+n+n+n+n+n+n+n+n+n+n+e+n+n+nn it MAN’§ REVENGE; ~e31+n+nmm+m+m â€". OR, THE convrcr’s DAUGHTER. deb} t‘ gQ-tfi+£€+fivfil'fi+fi+fii+fi+fl+fii fi+fi+fi+3fi+3fi+fi+fi+fi+fl+£fi+fih shame,” muttered the artist. a boy who was sneaking off “Give that animal CHAPTER II. “For ,. . . stopping the. afternoon down train deposncd .- .. ,1 ., one pasenger only at the tiny wayside Itkillgttlgié‘gicm”! “0°” station of St. Lawrence. A stalwart ulle mm}, She look it from man young man with fair hair and a hand- “She bought it from you 0,. said she some tanned face, the appearance of,wm'm 11 ° ’ ' vrhoseduggage stamped him at once as “1 {mm not paid him vet, but if he “Km-“5L , , _,, carries back with me I’ll do so,” inter- 15 “mm ‘1 Comfortamcdnn he”? he posed the girl. Sinclair glanced at her, asked of the sleepy-looking ticket col- wondering who She was. Hm. manna. lcgllfi'e'mm shook his 110a d and speech contrasted so strongly with n , f ' ’ ° those of her companions. He met her 11101738 (111 U111. But as for comfort distressed look with a reassuring smile. I won’t. say. There’s niore‘n one, too. “1 win pay him now to get, rid of lint the best test its missus a week or him,” he said, drawing a sovereign two back." I . from his~pocket. “You must allow me ‘1‘)unean Sinclair smiled. to settle this. I am not used to seeing Just my luck!” he exclaimed. “1 men knock women down,” he added ought to have found that out before severely, handing the money to the as- connng! Well, thanks. I’m going to re- tonished boy and taking the animal from connoilre, so I'll leave my luggage his unresisting arms. “It’s more than ' the cur is worth, youngster, but if in buying him I buy manners, I'm satis- fied. The dog’s mine, do you hear ‘3 And of you I catch illtreating again, shall taste the you hear?” All but “Very well, sir. There's good com- fortable rooms to be had though,” con- tinued the fellow, scntcliing his headflh-z first one meditatively. “Miss Green has the nicest] him, or any girl little corner in the place. She niay put touch of my whip. Do you up. We ain‘t used to visitors ’ere, They moved away abashcd. that‘s wet. it is. Only a stray artist or, the girls who, drawing nearer, looked 50, like yourself.” curiously into the stranger‘s face. The “All the better for 'me. Where does,man who could give gold to save a tli‘lf‘htllSS Green live?” ‘wortltless mongrel's life was worthy of lhe lust. cottage on the right, facing observation. the sea. A garden full 0’ sweet peasl “An’ her the daughter of a ticket 0’ and ’olly’ocks in front of it, and’ a yel- leave man l” they commented spitefnlly. ler creeper on the wall. Being as you'ch Sinclair glanced quickly at his com- an eye to color, sir, you may notice it panion as the words left on his car. But 11‘0"} Mar." beyond a slight flush she betrayed no ‘Xour description should make me emotion, and, raising shy eyes to his, anxious to, ai‘iyhow, my friend. Thanks. began to thank him. I shall see you again.” “I’m glad I was in time,” he answered, lie turned out of the station and anxious to bring a smile to her face. What he had just heard whetled his cariesity. He could not believe that she was a mere villager and, as the girls bad sneered, the daughter of a convict. “You surely are not going without the 'dog,” he continued. “I really should be Iobliged if you would take it, andâ€"â€"â€"” “Yet. you bought. it.” “To save its file. Will you take care ,1: of it for me? I may claim it some day. walkeddown the steep, chalky, incline leading to the road, with a light, swing- ing step. The village lay about. a quarter of a mile away, redâ€"roofed and quaint, nes- tling in a cove overhung by cliffs. Be- ycnd it stretched the sparkling sea, a sheet of sapphire and gold dotted with dancing boats, and merging into the far- ol'l' line of sky in a mist of Soft grey- blllC. The smile came as he spoke. llis eyes I he sun poured unmolested on to the showed nndisguised admiration.- She dropped her own. straggling white road, for the small and “Thank you. I shall he glad to look stunted trees offered no shade from its dazzling glare. The scene was vivid in after it.” ‘ its: brightness. it almost hurt his eyes. He handed the quivering little animal lIe glanced back in search of the colorlo her, , that was needed to complete the beauty “Tell me,” he murmured. “what those of the spot, and found it there, behind girls saidâ€"was it . . . is it . . . 7” him, in the bright green meadows He stopped, confused. For again timi- splashed with scarlet, and creeping, dity had chased all other expression darkened in hue, to the crested hill but one of pained shame from her avert- above. ‘ ed face. The cruelty of his question, struck him in full force. "The color rose. to his brow. 'l‘onhnrt even a village girl’s feelings was unworthy of him, lle drew a long sigh of content. The place was perfect. tits spirits ‘rose as he thought of the possibilities it afforded his brush. The joy of living entered his and such an one! being. llc pressed on, eager to find the “Forgive me,” he slammered. “f3ut-â€"” Iler face turned to his. ller though trembling, smiled : “If is quite true. But . . . he has been good to me. After all, he is my father.” There was such a world of affection in the voice that he‘could have kicked himself for his stupidity. Instead, he changed the- conversalion adroitly. He had no desire to part with her yet, and ignored her movement to such an end. collage where rooms perhaps awaited upsa him. ll-epassed the first. inn. It was certainly not of tempting aspect. A shaggyâ€"brewed man stood in the door- way and talked lazily to a thirsty cy- CllSl. His eyes wandered inquiringly to Sinclair’s face, then back to his cus- tomer as the young man passed on, his face turned to the crowded picturesque cottages ahead. The houses were low, white and “I ‘am looking for Miss Green’s cot- gained. 'l‘he mellow red of the tiled loge, Can you direct me there?” he asked, the tail of his eye already on the brilliant garden the porter had described is.) accurately. For, in walking, they had turned a bend in the. road, and the end of the vil- lage was before them. ller beautiful eyes widened, “Miss Green‘s,” she ejaculated. “Yes. It is the last house. The one with noâ€" thing beforc it. but waste land and sea.” lie had already ,noticed that, on that. side, the houses stretched further than on the other, leaving an unbroken view of the sea to their inhabitants, or those passing in the road. “Do you want Miss Green '1” asked the girl, her face. full of inquiry. “Yes. I hear she has rooms to let and am seeking some.” “That is true. I know because I live there. She is my aunt. But, perhaps she will not let them new. We expect my father, amt the house is small.” ller voice dropped, and the rich color again flooded her face. lie noticed then that the soft hazel eyes were moist and humid, and guessed that to come home her father must probably leave prison. “I take up very little room, I assure roofs blended delightfully with the deep blue of the sky, and the sparse green of the little gardens. The little-street was deserted save for one or two children. lint at one corner a small group attracted his attention. Four or five big boys were arguing vio- lently. A couple of girls stood listening, their faces beaming. As he approach-ed he looked at them intently. Then stop- ped. For in their midst stood a tall. slim girl, pale with anger. ()r was it fear? She h-eldra wretched dog in her arms, and was speaking in a low clear voice. 'TllO exquisite refinement, of her tones roused his surprise. He drew nearer and let'ikcd into her face. Then he saw that she was beautiful. Also that she was verging on wmnanlu‘iod. “And what will you do with it?” asked one boy rt‘mghly. “Keep it,” she. replied, animal's head gently. “llul it ain’t yourn to keep," sure-red m’mthcr. “It belongs to Joe. Sure he can do what he likes with his own dog without you interfering l" Her eyes blazed. “lle cannot be cruel. #W_M stroking the I shall keep the dog. I will give hipi anything he likes you," he said, smiling. “So I hope you for it. lint 1 can witness your cowardly will j'ici'suadc your aunt to have me. The. place is too pretty to leave. I am already in love with it." llis cloqmml eyes told her even more. \oung‘ as she was she was not unused to the language of men. \\ith‘a laugh rithersclf of them. lint the first speak- which spoke more of the woman than er flungr himself on her and pulled at the the maid, she opened the little wicket puppy. 'l‘aki‘n entirely unavvarcs, she'gulc and stepped into flit; blazing guy- swayrd. slipped. amt fell to the ground, «it‘ll. , “h, hurrihlul dug 1-,,“ng [mm bur grasp, “.‘vnnlic '1” she cried. “Where are you?” A kind laugh greeted inc nururrcncc. Still \‘HltSlH‘d “it“ilféil “Hf Oilk‘il (lulll‘. The girls- with-mt the ring. clapped their leaning Siliclair aiming the hollybocks, 11mm, life turned his face to the dazzlingr sea. t l treatment no longer. You ought to be ashamed of y-hirscli. .loe said he'd sell it to me yesterday. New hr- rt‘t'uses. 1 shall lv'i‘cp hint to his, word.” She lurm‘d and made a nu‘ivcmcnf to if.) caught but his eyes were full of the vision of >‘~.nvhiir sprang forward. him ltcr face. the fully by the arm amt flung aside. The others drew back tutti dc- “.‘im 1 wise?" he askinl hints-elf. “Yin: fiant, half sluscpish, The girl r "1 to," no? l-‘afc shall dot-ate. if the aunt feet. licr (yr-.5 were full of tears. refuses me I go. If she accepts, why .lii.â€"‘. should I turn my back on the good things the gods offer me, this . . . " his glance sought the laxidscapeâ€"â€"â€"â€"â€"" and the girl with her beautiful face and voice. A com-let’s daughter! Bah, what do I care? Besides, she is only a child, barely eighteen, if that. Nothing can come of it, nothing at all. Am I a child to fly from the danger of a lovely face? Besides, there is Eileen, my be- trothed.” lie gave a short laugh, ex- pressive of anything tut delight. Then hearing footsteps, tunred to the door. The girl stood before him. “Will you come. in ‘1” she. said. Auntie will see you in a minute or two.” He followed her into the small front room. The daintiness of it made him more than eager to stay. It was so un- like most lodgings he had seen, although lh-x- furniture itself differed in no way from that of similar rooms. But. there was a touch of refinement, a graceful blending of ornaments and colors. No hideous pictures disfigured the walls, no flimsy antimacassars covered the bright Chintz-clad chairs. He raised his eyes to the girl‘s smiling face. “i hope she will have me, mired in a low voice. ’ “I hope so, too," she replied demurely. he mur- CIIAPTER III. A little later Sinclair returned to the station for his luggage. Willi a little judicious flattery he had persuaded Miss Green into consenting to receive him as ledger, fo' an indefinite time. ller face, still round and comely, beamed at his subtle compliments, and she had at once decided that such a nice young man could give no trouble, and would certainly not interfere with any domestic arrangements. “I expect my brother home from a long journey,” she said, meeting his laughing eyes boldly. “But for all that, ther-e’ll be room for you, if you’ll make allowances for his bein’ a bit queer like, in his head, at times.“ Sinclair, glancing over her shoulder at her niece found himself obliged to swallowcghis mirth and promised to do hi, utmost to e'face himself at all times. Then he turned his face to the silent station and reposeful hills. Already the sun had shifted, and transformed the scene. The scarlet groups in the poppy- strcw1r meadows had lost their fiery hues. The [whole country-side looked subdued, like a gaily decde maiden silently reflecting, at. evenlide, on the frivolilies of a day of pleasure. “When you return I'll have tea ready for you,” said Miss Green, following him down to the gate, and shading her eyes with her hand, she watched him stride away, until, turning the corner, he was lost to sight. With a sigh she returned to the col- lage. The girl still stood in the little front. room. The woman laid her hand gently on her shoulder. “Well, Sunbeam, day-dreamin‘ as usual. I only hope I’ve done right in saying yes.” “Of course you have, auntie. We're not rich enough to turn up our noses at a ledger, and such a nice one too. Be- sides ” "Yes, there is a besides,” interrupted til) other. “Your father may be here any minute new, and if he's wise he'll come straight home. If not, lleaven knows when we shall see him. Ilis luck has clean gene of late. If he comes and takes a dislike to this gentleman Ilea- ven knows what it’ll lead to. Both ways there‘s matter for thought and worry, and nights 0’ wakin. I don't, for- get, if you do, that it’s the last ledger that got him nabbed. How do we know this one ain’t got. some old score to wipe off, too. Oh, dear: While he spoke his blue eyes melted me to butter, but now he’s gone I certainly think I’ve done a foolish thing.” Sunbeam's face grew white. The thought held its terrors for her also. “Oh, no,” she gasped, "I don’t be- lieve he’s that sort. Besides, suriily fa- ther has repaid all his old debts? Don’t tell me tl'at. there is still danger ahead for him, Aunt lletty. It would be too dreadful indeet.” lletty Green looked solemnly into the girl‘s velvet eyes. An amused smile crossing her rosy face overflowed into laughter. She threw back her head and gave full vent to it.l Sunbeam watched her, puzzled. Her own fear vanished at once. Trouble and mirth were never linked together. “Listen,” exclaimed llctty. mopping her eyes. “You innocent duck. If your father got all he deserved he’d have to live two hundred years in prison. That’s clear. I don‘t. want to frighten you. tut even if you feel angry with him, you must remember, that of late what he's done has been for love 0’ you, to eddi- cate you as a lady. done it! There ain't another to equal you here, (‘i' for miles around.” “Oh, auntie, I know. It was good of him. llut I wish he hadn't. For, I think it. so wrong and ” , “Fudge. lf‘ I think like you I ain't go- ing: to cry down what was done for love. Time was when I would have done the same myself, but one's ideas change. There are many men higher in the land than llill what does worse than ease the pockets of the rich. 'l'hcy strike of hearts. Your father has never done that. Bear that in mind. Some day you may be glad of the memory. llul don't let's waste more time over talk. Mr. Sinclair will be back soon amt will want tea. I must make the bust of my bargain. lf lrr's to be trusted. \vrll amt guilt. If not, things will go bad for him. Instead of keeping one eye open l >lttlll keep two. That is all. As for you. you've burn cddicaicll like a lady and must behave as such. You're to keep out of his way. A tuppeny artist ain't the thing for yo‘t." “Oh. auntie!" laughed lb;- girl. “And them, that’s all. duck, don’t listen. your doormal. An’, by gosh, he‘s, . , 'l'rrrihle Death of a Quarryman on the l l I l to speak. I the. village boys; turn their noses up at The aunt's quick ears caught the sad- ness in the young voice, and she turned an indignant. face to her. “Do they, the- beasts? Let me catch And as for you, my They ain’t fit to be p I say it, so there.” “Oh‘, I don‘t. mind really.” “Of cour. c you don’t. You’re a queen among them.” “Only sometimes it pains," continued the girl. “For you see, I think also that it is not quite the way to live ‘byâ€"â€" H (To be continued). {Iiâ€"~â€"- râ€"nn‘ ELEPIIAN'I‘S ATTACK MISSION. One of the lncom’enilences of Fanning in Central Africa. The Rev. Mr. Grantham, in charge of the Wesleyan mission at Lomagundi, sends particulars to the Rhodesia ller- aid of a raid made by a herd of ele- phants, which resulted in the loss (.i life _ ' He says: “I shall be glad if you will make known through the medium (f y or paper the following incident. and my comments. on it in the hope that public sentiment may -l;e aroused against a condition of things is which many suffer for the sake of a fad of a few, who share none of the misery that their hobby inllicts"npon. others. 1:: May last. the native gardens on this; farm suffered serious damage from the incursion of a troop of elephants that visited as seven nights in succvfssionf In this respect. we are not the only sufâ€" fcrers, for l am'eonstantly hearing of the same kind of thing throughout. the i’ieighborhood. \\«'e have no lawful means of protecting our crops, and ap- p'icalions for damages are‘ignored. “On Friday morning two old natives and a picanniny who had been sleeping in a skerm erected in the lands, awoke to find that ten full grown elephants and three calves were within a few yards of where they lay. The natives fled in terror, pursued by one of the beasts, which, was apparently enraged at the sight of human beings in such close proximity to the calves. The pi- cannin was just on the point of being tuskcd, but saved himself by rushing on hands and knees through the branches of a fallen tree. The elephant tossed these aside, and continued in pursuit of the old men. One escaped. but the other was overtaken in about .hrd yards, and the vicious beast trans- fixed him through the back, the pro- truding tusk ploughing deeply into the soil. “The furious animal then proceeded to rip its victim to pieces, splitting one leg from buttock to calf and an arm from shoulder to wrist. He just lived long enough to urge his friend to fly back to the kraal. or no one would no left to tell the late. “We are told that in strict selfâ€"de- fence they may be fired upon. Are we then to wait until one of the brutes "'s in the act of charging upon us ere we out. a hasty trigger, which is more likely than not to be'our last? And what. isrthe use of firing,r at an angry eTcphanL when several others are stand- ing- by ready to take up the cause cf their companion if it dolss fall? “It. is popularly supposed that eleâ€" phants will not attack a human being ui-less they are molested by him, but they will invariably do so if the herd contains any calves. A price is set up- on the head of lionsâ€"beasts that rarely initiate any attack upon human beings. and whose deprcdalions are generally confined to cattle kraals and spans of donkeys. Why, then, should elephants which in this district are a much great- e" scourge than lions, be protected. and the killing of one a criminal of- fence?” >l< GELA'l‘INE FOR CANCER. Austrian Professor Discovers Simple Treatment for Disease. Gelatin-e is. the latest weapon with which medical science is attempting to combat. that hitherto incurable disease or cancer, the new treatment being the discovery of Professor Franz leauer, oi Budapest, Austria. For many years, says the \\'estmin- sler Gazette, he has focused his scienti- ‘fic ability on obtaining a. cure for can- tter, and success has at last crownmt his effects, a permanent cure having: been effected in undoubted cases. The apparent simplicity of the me- ‘thod. which consists sii'nply in injec- tions of gelatine, at first aroused criti- cism in scientific circles; but medical opinion is steadily inclining in the di- rection outlined by Dr. l-laucr. Y ._.i‘d...â€"~.â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"- AT'IXACJHED BY B11133. Mountains of “'ales. John Jones. a qnarryman, left his home at l’endrryn. Wales, a week ago to look for work at Swansea. Noth'ng was heard from him. and as enquiries made by his wife from re- latives in the Swansea valley proved futile. a search. party was organized. Jones was found on a lonely spur of the flrcckm‘ick Deacon. lie was part- lv undreswd. and. although the flesh had been Dit‘kHl off his film}. and his cws had been eaten away, he was still dreadful agony .and u'nablu lie died shortly afterward. it is thought probably that hr,- became demented in the mom'itains. tintircssed. and immune ultimately too weak to re- trl the crwvs and rocks which titles-kiwi trim. 'tll\'t‘. ill hviA _.._A.. ._..â€". â€"- »--*-â€"’â€"- .i. it is the lllh'k watrrproof linves of L‘Vt‘l‘iil't‘t‘lls which enables. them In \\“illl<tillhl l‘l'flsl. .‘\ gallon of water tainud and 7% inches deep. It weighs ft) lbs. 'hanstion of the fuel supply. skin of the can be exactly con- in a receptacle (3 inches square, Witt BE EXHAUSTni â€"â€" {jail ENOUGH BITUMINOUS COAL ’50 LAST 200 YEARS. But Anthracite “’ill Give 0‘35! Seventy Years From Now, So it is Said. I After all there is coal enough in the: country, and the trust will be able to» continue to put prices up for manya. long year to come. .~ ltcently' a number of misleading arti-A cks have been given out, apparently on. thr. authority of the United States gcolo-- glcal survey, predicting the early ex-- ' "he geo- logical survey did say the bituminous: coal fields might be exhausted in an- other century, but the statement was- qualified in such a way it was evident there would be coal enough for many ong years to come. I 'To correct these misleading impres- stuns, Director Smillr of the survey has; given out an authoritative statemeanw prepared by .\I. ll. Campbell, who has charge of the division of economic gee-- :-:‘g' and fuels, and 1-1. \V. Parker, coal mining expert and statistician. The facts are. that the estimate of the bituminous coal fields prepared by Mr. Campbell 'shows the total quantity of coal stored in the ground at about 2,â€" 2.’)0,C(l0.000.000 short tons. From this there :as been extracted, according to \lr Parker’s statement, about 4,025;- {100,000 short tens. Assuming for every irn of coal mined there is half a ton test, this represents an exhaustion If mariy 7.000,000,000 lens, or only about. 'lilC-ihil'd of 1 per cent. of the total sup» p y. ENOUGH TO LAST 200 YEARSU- We produced and consumed in 1896,. in round numbers, 343,000,000 short ions, which represented abdut 500,000,~- 000 tons of exhaustion, since less coal is lost per ton mined than formerly. At. :bis rate, if no increase be allowed for- the bituminous coal supply would last. about 4,000 years. However, taking iii-- '0 account the probable rate, first, of‘ ‘i'icrease and later, decrease in produc- tion, experts of the gtolegicel bureau' :ne of opinion the bulk of cheaply min» ed bitnnnnons coal will be exhausted. within 200 more years. But when the period of decrease in production sets. if. they say, the need for the fuel will. :loubtless be supplied in a considerable- fvgree by the utilization of other forces if nature. thus ext-ending the life of ‘ne bituminous coal fields still farther.. So far as anthracite coal is concern-- -f-d, predictions of exhaustion have been based almost entirely on the estimates by the l’em’isylvania geological survey, showing that there were originally In the ground about 'ons of coal. trained one and one-half lens was 1-02,, This means only 7,800.000,0ft() tons-fl! ".0 original supply were recoverable. AN'l‘IIRAClTlE FOR '70 YEARS. Up to the close of amounted approximately to Zl.650,000,â€"- :00 ions, which would leave 0.150000,- ti00. At the “ate of almost 65.000,000- tons a year this supply would last about l’ll-llCly pears. Later estimates made .by William thiflith, of Scranton, Pa., placed the- quanti-ty of minable anthracite in the- gionnd at the close of 1905 at 5.073,- 780,75!) long tons. Since then a trifle over 600,000,000 ions have been min-- no. leaving about 4,470000b00. tens. available. rate of 05.000000 tons. a year, the sup- ply would last only seventy years- Against both these estimates must be {of the fact that production will not . be maintained at. the present rate until 'he coal is gone. The production of anthracite, experts- say, has about reached its maximum. When it does begin to decrease the rate. probably will be slow. Moreover, with improved mining methods and the in- creased price of coal, beds are new be- wz'irked which were not included in the available reserves when the esti- mates were prepared. Lli'S'S COAL \VAS'l‘ED NO\V.. in addition to this, miners new reâ€" cover about 00 per cent. instead of to pet cent.. of coal actually broken out. This saving alone, it is explained, would extend the life of the region oneâ€" la‘df. Furthermore. the utilized proporâ€" llri‘l’l of small sizes of anth-acite for steaming purposes, which has increased rapidly within the last few years. has r.-:l only reduced the waste in mining, but. is hulking possible the recovery of usable fuel from the great cufm banks that stood as moi‘iuments to the waste- ful methods of former years. it will be a comfort to a great many people to know that. experts of the gep-_ logical survey say:â€"â€"â€" “’l‘o \‘v'lltIl-‘ngl'N‘ these factors will extend the life of the anthracite field not possible to say, but the condi- tions now existing indicate no danger of exhaustion during the present. gen- eration. A conservative sfatemesthis that S‘m’lll the annual production and tztliisumplion of anthracite will decrease giadually s) that the supply probably vill last 151) or 200 years." ._-__. ___-r14...a__._r I _ lithir‘i: “ That a iiirelyâ€"(Illiscllf‘il mouth fl ought o be on a girl’s face." _\'()il have! . miss an oppor- .f.'n-k: “Well, i seldom lunity." (ibmuisl‘s .As<istant: “Good graciousl l have kept that woman waiting half an hour. I forgot all about her prescrip- that.” (.Ihemis't: “vmi will have to charge but a good full price in order to make he] think you had a lot of trouble 111 mixing,r it up.” 10,500,000,000 leng‘I For every tom of coal“L it ’lG production; Under this csihnatc, at the» -‘

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