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«uA& -ik* ^f By Henry Kitchell Webster M>^v, m MH .v*,*** Copyrfcht 191* Bobbe-Merr® C% i'.' y$f?, • *' \ . - *- r ' . • - ' V ^%HE BfcHENTtY PLAINDEALER, McHENRY, ILL. * 1 : j ' : . ' COMES THE GREAT EVENT IM ROSE ALDRICH'S LIFE, THE PROSPECT OF A BABY, AND SHE REALIZES THAT WOMAN'S FINEST PROFESSION IS MOTHERHOOD--BUT PLANS GO SADLY AWRY SYNOPSES--Rose Stanton marries Rodney Aldrich, a rich young lawyer, after a brief courtship, and in­ stantly is taken up by Chicago's exclusive social set and made a part of the gay whirl of the rich folk. It is all new to the girl, and for the first few months she is charmed with the life. And then she comes to feel that she is living a useless existence, that she is a social butterfly, a mere ornament in her husband's home. Rose longs to do something useful and to have the opportunity to employ her mind and utilize her talent and edu­ cation. Rodney feels much the same way himself*. He thinks he ought to potter around in society Just to ple«se his wife, when in reality he'd rather be giving his nights to study or social service of some sort. They* try to reach an understanding, following the visit of two New York friends, who have worked out satisfactorily this same problem. CHAPTER XI--Continued. But she Went steadily on, "You were always so dear' about it. • Bttt tonight--oh. Rodney . . . !" Her silly, ragged voice choked there and stopped, and the tears brimmed up and spilled down her cheeks. But she kept her face steadfastly turned to his. "That's what I said about being marHed and not sowing wild oats, I suppose," he said glumly. "It was a joke. Do you suppose I'd have said it If I meant it?" "It wasn't only that." she managed "to go on. "It was the way they lookod at the house; the way you apologized for my dress; the way you looked when you tried to get out of answei- ing Barry Lake's questions about what you were doing. Oh, how 1 ;<Jespised myself! And how I knew you and they must be despising me!** "The dne thing I felt about you all the evening," he said, with the pa­ tience that marks the last stage of exasperation, "was pride. I was rath­ er crazily proud of you." "As my lover you were proud of me," she said. "But the other man-- the man that's more truly you--was ashamed, as I was ashamed. Oh, it doesn't matter! Being ashamed won't accomplish anything. But what we'll do is go.<ng to accomplish something." "What do you mean to do?" he asked. » "I want you to tell me first," she said, "hw much money we have, and bow much we've been spending." "I don't know," he said stubbornly. **I don't know exactly." ••You've, got enough, haven't you, ,«l your own ... I mean, there's enough that comes in every year, to live on, if you didn't earn a cent by .practicing law? Well, what I want to do, is to live on that.. I want to lire, however and wherever we hatfe to----to live on that--out in the suburbs somewhere, or in a flat, so that you will be free; and I can work--be some Mtt of h^elp." ^ f r . "You can wash the dishes and scrub the floors," he supplemented, "and I can carry my lunch to the office with me in a little tin box." He looked at his watch. "And now that the thing's reduced to an absurdity, let's go to bed. It's getting along toward two A'clock." "You don't have to get to the office tilt nine tomorrow morning," .said Rose. "And I want to talk it out BOW. And I don't think I said any­ thing that was absurd." **I shouldn't have called It absurd," he admitted after a rather long si­ lence. "But it's exaggerated and un­ necessary. Next October, when the begin right away." Then she looked • the road, so he could speak with au- up into his face. "It will be too late in October," she repeated, "unless' we be­ gin now." ' The deep, tense seriousness of her voice and her look arrested his full "Rose, attention. : "Why ?" he asked. And then, what do you mean?" "We're going to have a baby in October," she said. IP:, VK:' f ' „ Ills pipe was. propwrly lighted, wheth­ er he altogether liked this method of approach or not. ; : *, "Common sense always was h sort of specialty of your*, sie," he said at last, "and straightening out. You were always pretty good at it" Then out of a cloud of his own smoke, "Fire away." "Well, in the first place," she said, '*lf you had your house today you'd be lucky if the paint was dry and the thing was fit to move Into by thejljrst <»f September.'* "But we've got to get out of here, anyway, in October. And that means Tve've got to have some so/t of place to get into. It la an awkward time. Til admit." > , ; "No, ypu haven't,"' she said. "You can stay right here another six months, if you like. I've heard froiu Florence. When I found how things stood here, I wrote and asked her if lihe'd Jease for six months more if She got the chance, and she wrote back and simply grabbed at it." Rodney smoked half way through his pipe before he made any comment On this suggestion. "This house isn't Just whpf we want," he said. "In the fifst place, it's expensive." , j Harriet shrugged her shoulders, picked up one of Florence's poetry books and eyed the heavily tooled bind­ ing with a satirical smile before she replied. "I'd an idea there was that in It," as;ie said at last. "Freddy said some­ thing. . . Rose had been talking to her." Then, after another little silence and with a sudden access of vehemence: "You don't want to go Why I Wanted to Things Tonight." Decide lease on this house runs out, we can pnanage, perhaps, to change the scale a Httle. Thete you a^e! Now do stop iiisorrying about it and let's go to bed." But she sat there Just as she'was, • flaring at the dying flre, her hands lying slack in her lap. all as it she llkdn't heard. The long silence irked him. He pulled out his watch, looked at It, and began winding it. He mend­ ed the fire so that it would be safe for the night ; bolted a window. Ev­ ery minute or two he stole a look at but she was always Just the Except for the faint rise and fall of her bosom, she might have .fceen a picture, not a woman. At last he said again, "Come along, dear." "It'll be too late in October," she "That's why I wanted to de- tonlght. Because we must CHAPTER XII. The Door That Was to Cfpen. What a silly little idiot she'd been not to have seen the thing for her­ self! She'd been, all the while, beat­ ing her head against blind walls when there was a door there waiting to open of itself when the time came. Motherhood! There'd be a doctor and a nurse at first, of course, but presently they'd go away and she'd be left with a baby. Her own baby! She could care for him with her own hands, feed him--her joy reached an ecstasy at this--from her own breast. That life which Rodney led apart from her, the life into which she had tried with such ludicrous unsuccess to effect an entrance, was nothing to this new life which was to open before her in a few short months now. Mean­ while, she not only must wait-- she could well afford to. That was why she could listen with that untroubled sinile of hers to the terrible things that Rodney and James Randolph and Barry Lake and Jane got into the way of hurling across her dinner table, and, to the more mildly expressed but equally alkaline cynicisms of Jimmy Wallace. Jimmy was dramatic critic on one of the evening papers as well as a bit of a playwright. He was a slim, cool, smiling, highly sophisticated young man, who renounced all privileges as an interpreter of life in favor of re­ maining an unbiased observer of it, IJe never bothered to speculate about what you ought to do--he waited to see what you did. Well, in the light of the mfraculous transformation that lay before her, Rose could listen undaunted to the Jtough philosophizing her husband and Barry Lake delighted in as well as to the mordant merciless realities with which Doctor Randolph and Jimmy Wallace confirmed them. She wasn't indifferent to it all. "Jim's pretty weird when he gets going," Eleanor Randolph said to Fred- erica, on ':lie next day after they had been dinirn* at the Aldriches', "but that Barry Lake has a sort of surgical way of discussing just anything, and his wife's as bad. "We never got off women all the evening. Barry Lake had their his­ tory down from the early Egyptians, and Jim got off a string of patholog­ ical freaks. And then Rodney came out strong for economic independence, only with his own queer angle on it, of course. He thought it would be a fine thing, but it wouldn't happen utf- til the men insisted on It. When a girl wasn't regarded as marriageable unless she had been trained to a trade or a profession, then things would be­ gin to happen. I think he meant it, too. "Well, and all the while there sat Rose, taking It all in with those big eyes of hers, smiling to herself now and then; saying things, too, some­ times, that were pretty good, though nobody but Jimmy seemed to under­ stand, always, Just what she meant. They've talked before, those two. But she was no more embarrassed than as if we'd been talking embroidery stitches." So far as externals went, her life, that spring, was immensely simplified. The social demands upon her, which had been so insistent all winter, stopped almost automatically. The exception was the Junior League show in Easter week, for which she put in quite a lot of work. She was to have danced in it. This is an fennual entertainment by which Chicago sets great store. All the smartest and best-looking of the younger set take part in it, in cos­ tumes that would do credit to a chorus dresser, and as much of Chicago as is willing and able to pay five -dollars a seat for the privilege is welcome to come and look. Delirious weeks are spent 'in rehearsal, under a first- class professional director; audience and performers have an equally good time, and Charity, as residuary lega­ tee. prolits by thousands. - i Rose dropped in at a rehearsal one day at the end of a solid two hours of committee work, found it unexpect­ edly amusing, and made a point, there­ after, of attending when she could. Her interest was heightened, if not wholly actuated, by some tilings Jim­ my Wallace had been telling her late*- ly about how such things were done on the real stage. He had written a musical comedy once, lived through the production of it, and had spent a hard-euroed1 two weeks' vacation trooping with 0 ott thority. It was a Wonderful Odyssey when you could get him to tell it, and as Rose made a good audience, she got the whole thing at her dinner table, - The thing got a sociological twist ] and do a regular fool thing, Roddy, eventually, of course, when Jane want­ ed to know If It were true that the chorus girls received inadequate pay. Jimmy 'demolished this with more wrath'than he often showed. He didn't know any other sort of job that paid a totally untrained girl as well. It took a really accomplished stenogra­ pher, for instance, to earn as much a week as was paid the average chorus girl. The trouble was that the indis­ pensable assets in the business: were not character and intelligence and am­ bition. but just personal charms. "But a girl who's serious about it, who doesn't have to be told the same thing more than once, and catches on, sometimes, without being told at all, why, she can always have a job and she can be as independent as any­ body. She can get twenty-five dollars a week or even as high as thirty." The latter part of this conversation was what she was to remember after­ ward, but the thing that impressed Rose at the time, and that held her for hours looking on. at the League show rehearsals, was what Jimmy had told her about the technical side of the work of production, the labors of the director, and so on. As the weeks and months wore away, . and as the season of violent alter­ nations between summer nnd winter, which the Chicagoan calls spring, gave place to summer itself. Rose was driven to intrench herself more and more deeply behind this great expectation. It was like" a dam hold­ ing back waters that otherwise would have rushed down upon her and swept her away. And then came Harriet, Rodney's other sister, hnd the pressure behind the dam rose higher. . Rose had tried, rather unsuccess­ fully, to realize that there was actu­ ally in existence another woman who occupied, by blood anyway, the same position toward Rodney and herself that Frederica did. She felt almost like a real sister toward Frederica. But without quite putting the notion into words, she had always felt it was just as well that Harriet was an Italian contessa, four thousand miles away. Rodney and Frederica spoke of her affectlonatels', to be sure, but their references made a picture of a rather formidably correct, seriously aristocratic sort of person. She'd discovered, along in the win­ ter sometime, that Harriet's affairs were going rather badly. It was along In May that the cable came to Frede- rlca announcing that Harriet was com­ ing back for a long visit. "That's all she said," Rodney explained to Rose. "But I suppose it means the finish. She said she didn't want any fuss made, but she hinted she'd like to have Freddy meet her in New York, and Freddy's going. Poor old Harriet! We must try to cheer ,her up." She didn't seem much in need of cheering up, Rose thought, when they first met. All that showed on the con- tessa's highly polished furface was a disposition to talk humorously over old times with her olc* friends, in­ cluding her brother and sister, and a sort of dismayed acquiescence in the smoky seriousness, the inadequate civilization, of the city of her birth. Toward Rose herself, the contessa was, one might say, studWusly affec­ tionate. She avoided beinri either dis­ agreeable or patronizing. Rose could see, indeed, how she avc'ded it. About this time the quvnstlon where Rose and Rodney were Soing to live after their lease on the J'cCrea house ended, had begun to pre*1! for an an­ swer. October first wa* when the lease expired, and It wa^'t far from the date at which they tfXpecfed the l)aby. They spent some '.ovely after­ noons during the days ol the emerg­ ing spring, cruisTng about looking at possible places. This was the situation ^hen Har^ riet took a hand in it. It *«s a situa­ tion made to order for llarrlet to tal^e a hand in.' She'd sited ft up at a glance, made up her mind in threp minutes what was the sensible thing for them to do, written. « note to Florence McCrea In Pari*, and then bided her opportunity to put her idea into effect*.. .To her Rose wus simply a well-meaning, somewhat inadequately civilized young person, the beneficiary, through her marriage with liodney, of a piece of unmerited good fortune. When she got Florence McCrea's answer to her letter, she took the first occasion to get Rodney oft by himself and talk a little common sense into him. "What about where to live, Rod­ ney?" "she asked. "Made up your mind about it yet? It is time someone with a little common sense straight­ ened you out about this." , Harriet couldn't, be snre from the. She Stared, Bewildered. You're getting on perfectly splendid­ ly. But if you pull up and go to live in a barn somewhere and stop seeing any­ body--people that count, I mean--" Rodney grunted. "You're beyond your depth, sis," he said. ".Come back where you . don't have to swim. The expense isn't a capital consideration, I'll admit that. Now go on from there." "That's like old times," she ob­ served with a not ill-humored grim­ ace. "I wonder if ybu talk to Rose like that. Oh, I know the house Is rather solemn and absurd. It's Flor­ ence herself all over, that's the' size of it. But what does that matter for six months more?" He pocketed his pipe and got Hp out of his chair. "There's something In' it," he ad­ mitted. "I'll think It 9ver." "Better cable Florence Us soon m you can," she advised. Rose protested when the plan for living six months more in Florence McCrea's house was broached to her. She made the best fight she could. But Harriet's arguments, re-stated now by Rodney with full conviction, were too much for her. When she broke down and cried, as she couldn't help doing, Rodney soothed and com­ forted her, assured her that this no­ tion of hers about the expensiveness of it all, was just a notion, which she' must struggle against as best she could. She'd see things in a truer proportion afterward. • • * * * * * Very fine and small and weak,v Rose Stanton, lying In a bed with people about her, let her eyes fall heavily shut lest they should want her to speak or think. . . . Then, for a long time, nothing. Then presently, a hand, a firm, powerful hand, that picked up her heavy, limp wrist and two sensi­ tive finger-tips that rested lightly on the upper surface of it. After that, an even, measured voice--a voice of authority, whose words no doubt made sense, only Rose was too tired to think what the sense was: "That's a splendid pulse. She's do­ ing the best tiling she can, sleeping like that." And "then another voice, utterly un­ like . Rodney's and yet unmistakably ills--a ragged voice that tried to talk In a whisper but couldn't manage it --broke queerly. .„ ... "That's all right," it said. "But I'U find it easier to believe when--" She must see him--must know what It meant that he should talk like that. With a strong physical ef­ fort, she opened her eyes ai)ft!l tried to speak his name. She couldn't; but someone must have been watching and have seen, because a woman's voice said quickly and,quietly "Mr. Aldrich." And the next moment, vast and tow­ ering and very blurred in outline, but, like his voice, unmistakably, was Rodney--her owh big, strong Rodney. She tried to hold her arms up to him, but of course she couldn't. And then he shortened. suddenly. He had knelt down beside her bed, that was it. And she felt upon her palm the pressure of his lips, and his unshaven cheek, and on her wrist a warm wetness that must be--tears. And then she knew, fche urgency of a sudden terror gave h^r her voice. "Roddy," she said, "there was go- Soniethtu* qweorljr like a laugh broke his voice when he answered *»Oh, you darling! Yes. It's all right That isn't why I'm crying. It's Just? beca«se I'm so happy.** -« > "But the baby!" she persisted, "Why isn't It here?" ' ^ Rodney turned and spoke to some- one else. "She wants to see," he said. "May she?" :• And then a woman's voice (why. It was the nurse, of course! Miss Harris, who had come last night) said in an Indulgent, soothing tone: "Why, surely she may. Wait just a minute." > But the wait seemed hours. Why didn't they bring the baby--her baby? There ! Miss Harris was coming at last, with a queer, bulky, shapeless bundle. Rodney stepped in. between and cut off the view, but only to slide an arm under mattress and pillow and raise her a little so that she could ••see. And then, under her eyes, dark red and hairy against the whiteness of the pillow, were two small heads--two small, shapeless masses leading away from them, twitching, squirming. She stared, bewildered. "There Were twins, Rose," she heard Rodney explaining triumphantly, but still with something that wasn't quite a laugh, "a boy and a girl. They're perfectly splendid. One weighs seven pounds and the other six." Her eyes widened and bhe looked up into his face so that the pitiful bewilderment in heirs was revealed to him. "But the" baby," she said, fler Wide eyes filled with tears and her voice broke weakly. "I wanted a baby." "You've got a baby," he 'Insisted, and now laughed outright. "There are two of them. Don't you understand, dear?" Her eyes drooped shut, but the tears came welling out along her lashes. "Please take them away," she begged. And then, with a little sob, she whispered: "I wanted a baby, not those," Rodney started to speak, but some sort of admonitory signal from the nurse silenced him. The nurse went away with her bun­ dle, and Rodney stayed stroking Rose's limp hand. In the dark, ever so much later, she awoke, stirred a little restlessly, and the nurse, from her cot, came quickly and stood beside her bed. She had something in her hands for Rose to drink and Rose drank it dutifully. "Is there anything else?" the nurse asked. "I just want to know," Rose said; "have I been dreaming, or is it true? Is there a baby, or are there twins?" "Twins, to be sure," said the nurse cheerfully. "The loveliest, liveliest little pair you ever Saw." "Thank you," said Rose. "I Just wanted to know." She shut her eyes and pretended to go to sleep. But she didn't. It was true then. Her miracle, it seemed somehow, had gone ludicrously awry. Knowing that they have plenty of money to raise twins properly, why should Rose resent the fact that she has been presented with two babies Instead of one? (TO BE CONTINUED.) EASY TO TELL REAL DIAMOND There Are Many Ways in Which the finest Imitations May Be Detect­ ed, Even by the Inexperienced. The experienced eye does not find It difficult to decide whether a diamond is genuine, for, the facets of real ones are seldom so regular as those of fine Imitations. With the latter th« great­ est care is taken in grinding to polish and smooth the whole stone so that there will be Irregularity in tjje reflec­ tion or refraction of the light. A neces­ sary tool for testing is the flie, which cannot scratch a real dikfuond, al­ though it quickly leaves itfi mark on an Imitation. Better than tlu* file is the sapphire, for the sapphire is the next hardest stone to the diamond. Any stone that a sapphire can scratch Is assuredly not a diamond. If you put a small drop of water on the upper facet of a brilliant and touch it with the point of a pencil the drop will keep Its rounded form, but the stone will remain clean and dry. in case of an imitation the drop Immedi­ ately spreads out. Plunge a diamond into water and it will be plainly visible and will glitter through the liquid, but an imitation stone is almost Invisible. If you look through a diamond, as through a bit of .glass, at a black dot ou u sheet of white paper you will see one sin»te point clearly. If you see sev­ eral points or a blur xti black It is an imitation. The white su^nhlre, the white topaz and rock crystal *3«» fre­ quently sold as diamonds, but unit* lions are more cpmroonly made of glass. leng^ ot thne took seeing that j i*c to ly a--baby. Bound to Fi(^it, Anyhow. Early last year, says a contributor to an English weekly, a grocer In a Scottish village decided that either he or his assistant must enlist. As lie was single and his mother and sisters were well provided for from their in­ terest in the shop, he thought It was his duty to go. Mackay, the assistant, agreed promptly, and presently found himself in command of the business. . But a few months later the mastet was dumfounded to meet his late as­ sistant, attired In khaki, "somewhere in France." "HI. mon,' he said angrily, "wWt are ye doin' he>rt." ™d I no tei! yi cae stay at liame in chairge o ina shop?" f'So I thocht at the time- maister/* replied Mackay. "hit I sune fun' oot U wisna only the shop I was in chairge o*, but a' yer woinanfolk. 'Man,' sayc I tae maself, 'gin ye've got to fecht, gang and fecht someone ye can hit!' So I jined."--Youth's Companion,* Rains Uncover Gold Nuggetil The days of '49 have been revived here to u certain extent, says the Sac­ ramento (Cai.) Bee, several Auburn men having brought nuggets worth from $1 to $20 which were found In the ravines and streams since heavy rains have washed the d'rt from th»> gro,vel. One nugget, whlcfc, it la said worth $20, waa feaad. If:' ft The Modern Day Farmer Applies Business Methods and Seek* Mere Than a Living on the Farm. f A fcatfen-wlde cry is being? tiMde for more economy and greater production, and probably never was the need of foodstuffs equal to that of the present* Grain prices are the highest in the na­ tion's history and today the agricul­ tural fields of America offer Induce­ ments that are unequal ed in any other line of commerce or business. The Ideal life is that close to nature, en­ joying the freedom of God's great out­ doors and fulfilling a duty to human­ ity by producing from a fertile soil that which is essential to the very ex­ istence of a less fortunate people who are actually starving to death for food­ stuffs that can be produced so eco­ nomically In the United States and Canada. High prices for all griilhs, undoubt­ edly, will be maintained for a number of yehrs, and It appears a certainty that the agriculturist will reap a bounteous return for his labor and at the same time carry out the demands of patriotic citizenship. A Wrong con­ ception has been generally noticed as to "Life on the Farm." It has been, to a large extent, considered as only a place to live peacefully and afford a living for those who are satisfied with merely a comfortable existence. Such a wrong impression has been created. In a measure, by the lack of systema­ tic business principles to farming In general. But today farming and agri­ culture have been given a supremacy In the business world and require the same advanced methods as any other line of commerce. In no other busi­ ness does a system adoption pay bet­ ter than on the farm, and it is certain that there is no other line of work, that, generally speaking, needs it as much. The old idea of getting a living off the farm and not knowing how it was made ahd following up the details of each branch of farming to get the maximum of profit, at the least ex­ pense, Is fast being done away with. Farming is now being considered as a business and a living is not sufficient for the modern agriculturist; a small per cent on the investment is not enough, the present-day farmer must have a percentage return equal to that of other lines of business. The prices for produce are high enough, but the cost of producing has been the factor, In many places, that has reduced the profit. It is the application of a sys­ tem to the cost of various work on the farm that it is possible to give figures on profits made in grain-growing in Western Canada. Mr. C. A. Wright of Milo, Iowa, bought a hundred apd sixty acres of land !n Western Canada for $3,300 in December, 1915, and took biS first crop from it in 1916. After paying for the land in full and the cost of cultivating it and marketing the grain, he sold his grain at $1.55 a bushel (a low price compared with the present market), had a surplus of $2,472.67. His figures are as follows; 4,487 bushels worth $1.55 af Cham­ pion $6,954.85--$6,954.85 Threshing bill 11c per bushel .... Seed at 95c Drilling Cutting Twine Shocking Hauling to town 3c . Total cost 1,182.18 Cost of land..... 8,300.00 493.57 144.00 1G0.00 160.00 50.00 40.00 134.61 $4,482.18--$4,482.18 Net profit after paying for farm and ail cost..... $2,472,67 S. Joseph and Sons of Des Moines, la., are looked upon as being shrewd, careful business men. Having some spare money on hand, and looking for a suitable Investment, they decided to purchase Canadian, lands, and farm them. With the assistance of the Canadian Government Agent, at Des Moines, la., ihey made selection near Champion. Alberta, They put 240 acres of land in wheat, and in writing to Mr. Hew­ itt, The Canadian Government A^ent at Des Moines, one of the members of the firm says: "I have much pleasure in advising you that on our farm five miles east of Champion, in the Prov­ ince of Alberta. Canada, this year (1916) we harvested and threshed 10,- 600 bushels of wheat from 240 acres, this being an average of 44 bushels and 10 pounds to the acre. A con­ siderable portion of the wheat was No. 1 Northern, worth at Champion, approximately $1.85 per bushel, mak­ ing a total return of $19,610, or an av­ erage of $81.70 per acre gross yields. And by aid of a thorough system were able to keep"the cost of growing wheat at about 25 cents a bushel." Messrs. Smith 4 Sons of Vulcan. Alberta, are growers of wheat on a large scale and have demonstrated that there is greater profit In Western Canada wheat-raising than probably in any other business anywhere. Speak­ ing of their experience Mr. Smith says: "I have three sections of land at the present time and am farming yearly 1,200 to 1.400 acres of land. My re­ turns from the farm for the past two years have been around 200%. that Is for every dollar I have spent I have received three, now I do not know where you can do that well. "This Is surely the country for the man with the small capital as the land is still reasonable In price, payments In long term and work of all kinds for every man to do. I feel that if I wni turned- out here without a dollar that In less than ten years I could own a section of land and have it well equipped." Western Canada's soli and climate is suitable to graining large and prof­ itable yields of wheat. Many so large tltat ant aoBU&lnted with the . "J? feeta hesitate to believe the reporti sent out by the farmer! In that conn- try. As an evidence of their sincerity in reporting correct yields affidavits of a couple of grain growers are repro­ duced. "I, Newell J. Noble, of the town of Nobleford, Province of Alberta, do solemnly declare that from 1,000 acres of wheat on the said farqj there was, in the season of 1916, threshed 54396 bushels of wheat, being at the average of 54 bushels and 23 pounds per acre. And that from 394.69 acres of oats on the said farm, there was threshed in the said season of 1916, 48,506 bushels of oats, being at the average of 122 bushels and 30 pounds per acre. "And I make this solemn decUurti* tlon conscientiously, believing it to b« true and knowing that It is of the same force and effect as if made un­ der oath and by virtue of The Canada Evidence Act" NEWELL J. NOBLE. A Woman Takes Affidavit as to Yields.--On January 4, 1917, Mrs. Nan* cy Coe of Nobleford made oath as fol* lows: In the matter of yield of wheat, oats and flax on my farm for harvest of 1916, I, Nancy Coe, of the town of Nobleford, Province of Alberta, do sol­ emnly declare that 1 threshed from 115 acres on my farm 6,110 bushels of wheat (machine measure, which It Is believed will hold out in weights fully --about three-fourths of the crop air ready having been weighed), being at the average of 58 bushels and 8 pounds per acre, and that from 48 acres of flax on stubble ground, I threshed 993 bushels of flax, being at an average of 20 bushels and 38 pounds per acre,' ahd that from 5.06 acres of oats I threshed 586 bushels, machine measure, being at an average of 115 bushels and 27 pounds per acre. --Advertisement. His Chinese Was Bad. Charles B. Towns, the anti-dmg champion, spent some time in China several years ago with Samuel Mer- wln, the writer. In a Hongkong shop window they noticed some Chinese house coats of particularly striking de­ signs and stepped in to purchase them. Mr. Towns asked Mr. Merwln to do the bargaining. "Wantum oatee," said Mr. Merwln to the sleepy-eyed Oriental who shuf­ fled up with a grunt. He placed sev­ eral of the coats before them. "How muchee Melican monee?" In­ quired Mr. Merwln. "It would aid me in transacting this sale," said the Chinaman, "if you would confine your language to your mother tongue. The coat is seven dol­ lars." . Mr. Merwln took It WOMEN! IT IS MAGIC! UFT OUT ANY CORN Apply a few drops then lift corns or calluses off with fingers--no pain. Just think! Tou can lift off any corn or callus without pain or soreness. A Cincinnati man discov­ ered this ether compound and named it freezone. Any druggist will sell a tiny bot­ tle of freezone, like here shown, for very little cost You apply a few drops di­ rectly upon a tender corn or callus. Instantly the soreness disappears, then shortly you will find the corn or callus so loose that you can lift it right off. Freezone is wonderful. It dries instantly. It doesn't eat away the corn or cal­ lus, but shrivels it up with­ out even irritating the sup- rounding skin. Hard, soft or corns be­ tween the toes, as well as painful calluses, lift right off. There is no pain be­ fore or afterwards. If your druggist hasn't freezone, tell him to order a small bottle for you from his whole­ sale drug house.--adv. Paw Knows Everything. Willie--Paw, what does "Discretion is the better part of valor" mean? Paw--It means that a man is not necessarily a coward because he won't get married, my son. Maw--Willie, you take a bath and get to bed. When aspiration Is transmuted into perspiration it begins to be effective. If some people were to speak thehr minds it wouldn't take them long. NERVOUSNESS M BLUES Symptoms of More Serious Washington Parte, DL--*'1 aa tbm mother of four children and have suf­ fered with female trouble, backache, nervous spells and the blues. My chil­ dren's loud talking ami romping would make me so nervosa I could just tear everything to pieeea and I would ache all over and feel so side that I would not want anyone to talk to me at times, ^.ydia E. Pinkham'a Vegetable Compound and Liver Pills re­ stored me to health and I want to thank you for the good they have done mo, I have had quite a bit of trouble and worry but it does not affect my youth­ ful looks. My friends say ' Why do yoo look so young and well?' I owe it all to the Lydia E. Pink ham remedief." --Mrs. ROUT. STOPIEL, Sage Aventot Washington Park, Illinois. If you have any symptom about which you would like to know write to tha Lydia E Pinkham Medicine Co., Lya% Mass., for helpful advice given ftesaf