{ title: 'Silver Springs signal. (Silver Springs, N.Y. ;) 1892-19??, June 17, 1915, Page 2, Image 2', download_links: [ { link: 'http://www.loc.gov/rss/ndnp/ndnp.xml', label: 'application/rss+xml', meta: 'News about NYS Historic Newspapers - RSS Feed', }, { link: '/lccn/sn88074193/1915-06-17/ed-1/seq-2/png/', label: 'image/png', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn88074193/1915-06-17/ed-1/seq-2.pdf', label: 'application/pdf', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn88074193/1915-06-17/ed-1/seq-2/ocr.xml', label: 'application/xml', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn88074193/1915-06-17/ed-1/seq-2/ocr.txt', label: 'text/plain', meta: '', }, ] }
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THE SILVER SPRINGS SIGNAL, SYNOPSIS. Le Comto de Sabron. captain of French cavalry, takes to his quarters to raise by hand a motherless Irish terrier pup. and MMmes it PItchoune. H e dines with the Mkrqulse d'Escllgnac and meets Miss Jfalta Redmond, American heiress, who •tags for Mm an English ballad that lingers In tils memory Sabron Is ordered to Algiers, but Is not allowed to take servants or dogs. Miss Redmond offers to titke care of the dog during his master's absence, but PItchoune. homesick for his master, run* away from her. The Mar quise plons to marry Julia to the Due de Tremont. Unknown to 8obron. PItchoune follows Wm to Algiers. Dog and master ntcct and Sabron gets permission from tho war minister to keep his dog with him. Sulla writes him thai PItchoune has run ssray from her H e writes Julia of Plt- rfjoune. Thp Due de Tremont finds the .American heiress capricious. A newspa per report that Sabron Is among the m'sa- mg after an engagement with the natives call ace Julia to confess to her aunt that sSto loves him. Sabron, wounded In an en- •rurcmcnt. falls Into the dry bed of a river, and Is watched over by PItchoune. CHAPTER XIII— Continued. \But Sabron said alond, \It is a prayer to be said at night and not in the afternoon of an African hell\ He began to climb, ho pulled him self along. leaving his track In blood He fainted twice, and the thick growth held him like the wicker of a ccadle, and before he came to his con- sjeiousnesB the sun was mercifully go ing down He finally reached the top rff the bank and lay there panting Wot far distant were the bushes of rose and mimosa flower, and still pant ing, weaker and ever weaker, his cour age tbe only living thing in him. Sab ron, with PItchoune by his side, dragged htmBel f into healing hands All that night Sabron was delirious, bis mind traveled far into vague tan tastic countries led back again, ever gfenlly, by a tune, to safety Every now and then he would real ize that he was alone on the vast deBert . destined t o finish bis existence Sere, to cease being a human creature and to become nothing but carrion Moments of consciousness succeeded fhose of mental disorder Every now and then be would fee] PItchoune •Jose to bia arm Tb e dog licked his Sand and the touch waa grateful to Che deserted officer PItchoune licked bis master's cheek and Sabron felt ttiat there was another life beside his IN the wilderness Neither dog nor man could long exist, however, with out food or drink and Sabron was growing momentarily weaker Tho Frenchman, though a philoso pher, realized how hard It was to die unsatisfied In love, unsatisfied In life, having accomplished nothing, having pished many things and realized at an early nge only death' Then this point of view changed and the phys ical man waB uppermost. He groaned for water, be groaned tor relief from pain, turned his head from aide to side, and PItchoune frhlned softly Sabron was not strong Enough to speak to bim, and their jjolces. of man and beast. Inarticulate, mingled—both left to die in the open Then Sabron violently rebelled and ^ried out in his soul against fate and &st!ny. He could have cursed the <Jay he was born. Keenly desirous to live, to make his mark and to win Everything a man values, why should ne be picked and chosen for this lone ly pathetic end ' Moreover, be did not ylsh to suffer like this, to IOBB bis grasp on life, to go on Into wilder delirium and to die 1 He knew enough Qf injuries to feel sure that his wound alone would not kill him. When he had first dragged himself Into the shade he had fainted, and when be came to himself be might have stanched his blood His wound was hardly bleeding now It had already died' Fatigue and thirst, fever would finish him, not his burt Ho • was too young to die With great effort he raised himself on bis arm and scanned the desert .stretching on all sides like a rosy sea Along the river bank tbe pale and deli cate blosBpm and leaf of the mimosa lay like a bluish veil, and the Bmell of the evening and the smell of the ml- -mesa flower and the perfumes of the ofteeda came to him, aromatic and •sweet Above his bead tbe blue sky vj&a ablaze with stars and directly over him the evening star hung like a crystal lamp. But there was no beau ty in it for the wounded officer who looked in vain to the dark shadows on the desert that might mean approach ing human life It would be better ttf die as be was dying, than to be found by the enemy' The sea of taste rolled unbroken as <ar as his fading eyes could reach. He sank back with a sigh, not to. rise again, and closed his eyes and waited. He slept a short, restless, feverish Bleep, and in it dreams chased one an- ether like 'those evoked by a narcotic, Sut out of them, over and dver again *ame the picture of Julia Redmond, and she sang to him the song whose words were a prayer for tbe safety /of a loved one during the ulght From that romantic melody there ceomed to rise more solemn ones. He Jrieard the rolling of the organ in the <hthedra! in his native town, for he dime from Rouen originally, where tfrare is one of tbe moat beautiful <5 ;ihedraJs in the world. The music rolled and rolled and passed over the desert's face. It seemed to lift his spirit and to cradle it. Then be breathed his prayers—they took form, and In his sleep he repeated the Ave Maria and the Paternoster, and the words rolled and rolled over the deBert 's face and the supplication seemed to bis feverish mind to mingle with the stars. A sort of midnight dew fell upon him: so at least be thought, and it seemed to him a heavenly dew and to cover him like a benignant rain. He grew cooler He prayed again, and with his words there came to the young man an ineffable sense of peace. He pillowed bis fading thoughts upon it, he pillowed his achipg mind upon It and bis body, too, and the pain of his wound and he thought aloud, with only tbe night airs to hear him, in broken sentences'. \If this Is death it is not so cad. One should rather be afraid of life. This Is not difficult, if I should ever get out of here I Ehall not regret this night\ Toward morning he grew calmer, he turned to speak to hla little compan ion. In bis troubled thoughts be had forgotten PItchoune. Sabron faintly called him. There was no response. Theu the soldier listened in silence- It was absolutely unbroken. Not even the call of a night-bird—not even the cry of a hy ena—nothing came to him but the in articulate voice of the desert Great and solemn awe crept up to him. crept up to him like a spirit and sat down by bis side He felt bis hands grow cold, and his feet grow cold. Now, us able to apeak aloud, there passed through bis mind that this, indeed, was death, desertion absolute In the heart of the plains. CHAPTER XIV. An American Girl. The Marquise d'Escllgnac saw that she had to reckon with au American girl. Those who know these girls know what their temper and mettle are, and that they are capable of the finest reverberation. Julia Redmond was very young. Otherwise she would never have let Sabron go without one sign that she was not Indifferent to him, and that she was rather bored with tbe idea of titles and fortunes. But she adored her aunt and saw, moreover, some thing elae than ribbons and velvets in the make-up of the aunt. She saw deeper than th e polish that a long Parisian lifetime bad overlaid, and sh e loved wha t Bhe saw. She respected her aunt, and knowing the older lady's point of view, had been timid and hesi tating until now Now the American girl woke up, or rather asserted herself. \My dear Julia,\ said the Marquise d'Escllgnac, \are you sure that all the tinned things, the cocoa, and so forth, are on board? I did not see that box.\ \Ma unto,\ returned ber niece from her steamer chair, \it's the only piece of luggage I am sure about\ At this response ber aunt suffered a slight qualm for the fate of the rest of her luggage, and from ber own chair in tbe Bhady part of the deck glanced toward ber niece, whose eyes were on her book , \What a practical girl she is,\ thought tho Marquls9 d'Escllgnac \She seems ten yeara older than L She Is cut out to be tbe wife of a poor man. It is a pity she should have a fortune. Julia would have been charm ing as love in a cottage, whereas I . .\ She remembered her hotel on the Pare Monceau, her chateau by the Rhone, her villa at Biarritz—and sighed. 8he had not alwayB been the Marqulso d'Escllgnac; she bad been an American girl first and remembered that her maiden name bad been De Puyster and that she had come from Schenectady originally But for many years Bbe had forgotten these things. Near to Julia Redmond these last few weeks all but courage and simplicity had seemed to have tarnish on its wings. Sabron had not been found. It was a curious fact, and one that transpires now and then in the history of desert wars—the man is lost Th e captain of the cavalry was missing, and the only news of him was that he had fallen In an engagement and that his body had never been recovered. Several sorties bad been made to find him; the war department had done all that It could; he had disappeared from the face of the desert and even his bones could not be found. From the moment that Julia Red mond bad confessed her love for the Frenchman, a courage had been born In her which never faltered, and her aunt seemed to have been Infected by it The marqulBB grew sentimental, found out that she was more docile and impressionable than she had believed herself to be, and the veneer and eti quette (no doubt never a very real part of ber) became less Important than other things. During the last tew weeks she' hod been more a D e Puyster from Schenectady than the Marquise d'Escllgnac \Ma tante,\ Julia Redmond had t telogram was brought in t o tbe Chateau d'Escll gnac, \I shall leave for Africa tomor row.\ \My dear Julia!\ \He is alive! God will not let bim die. Besides, I have prayed. I believe in God. don't yon?\ \Of course, my dear Julia.\ \Well said the girl, whose pale cheeks and trembling hands that held the telegram made a sincere impres sion on her aunt, \well. then. If you believe. wSy do yon doubt that he is Lallyet. Someone must find him. Will you tell Eugew to hare the-motor here in an hour? The boat sails to morrow, ma tante.\ The marquise rolled her embroidery and put it aside for twelve months. Her fine bands looked capable as she did so. \My dear Julia, a young and hand some woman cannot follow like a daughter of the regiment, after the fortunes of a soldier.\ \But a Red Cross nurse can, ma tante. and I have my diploma.\ \The boat leaving tomorrow, my dear Julia, doesn't take passengers.\ \Oh. ma tante! There will be no other boat for Algiers,\ she opened the newspaper, \until . . . oh, heav ens!\ \But Robert de Tremont's yacht Is In the harbor.\ Miss Redmond looked at her aunt speechlessly. \I shall telegraph Madame d' Haus- sonville and ask permission for you to go in that as an auxiliary of the Red Cross to Algiers, or rather, Robert Is at Nice. I shall telegraph him.\ \Oh. ma tante!\ \He asked me t o make up my own party for a cruise on the Mediterran ean.\ said the Marquise d'Escllgnac though tfnlly. Miss Redmond fetched the telegraph blank and the pad from the table Th e color began to return to her cheeks She put from her mind the idea that her aunt had plans for her ATI ways were fair In the present'situa'tion. The Marquise d'Escllgnac wrote her dispatch, a rery long one, slowly She said to her servant: \Call up the Villa des Penoquets at Nice. I wish to speak with the Due de PIGEON-RAISING IS MOST PROFITABLE Loft of Homer Pigeons. With squabs selling at from 35 to 50 cents each it would seem that pigeon 1 raising would be highly profitable, but , our advice is to go slow before engag- i ing in the business to any consider able extent i Pigeon raising is really a specialty and one Is hardly able to make a suc cess of It without some training. ' In the first place, no on e except an ex pert can detect the difference between , the males and females; alwayB one ' should have a guaranty that they are properly mated. An excess of cocks will result in the production of small and unhealthy squabs. There is no fixed system In the rais ing of squabs. Like swimming, it must be learned from actual experience. sold to ner when the' 1__ '< .\' V *\ \ •* *\ \ She Was Bored With the Idea Of Titles and Fortunes. Tremont\ She then drew her niece very gently to her side, looking up at her as a mother might have looked. \Darling Julia, Monsieur de Sabron has never told you that he loved your' Julia shook her head. \Not In words, ma tante.\ There was a silence, and then Julia Redmond said: \I only want to assure myself that he is safe, that he lives. I only wish to know his fate.\ \But if you go t o him like this, ma chere, he will think you love him. H e must marry you! Are you making a seriouB declaration \ \Ah breathed the girl from be tween trembling lips, \don't go on. I shall be shown the way.\ The Marquise d'Escllgnac then said, musing: \I shall telegraph to England for provisions. Food is vile In Algiers. Also, Melanle must get out our sum mer clothes.\ \Ma tante!\ said Julia Redmond, \our summer clothes?\ \Did you think you were going alone, my dear Julia!\ She had been so thoroughly the American girl that, she had thought ot nothing but going. She threw her arms around her aunt's neck with an abandon that made the latter young again. Th e Marquise d'Escllgnac kissed her niece tenderly. \Madame la Marquise, Monsieur le Due de Tremont is at the telephone,\ the servant announced to her from the doorway. i(TO BE CONTINUED.) • Criticizes Hospitals. Mrs. W. K. Vanderbllt has given much time and money to the question of the selling of drugs and the treat ment of those who become victims, which the city of New York takes care She now declared the manner in which the city of Ne w York takes ' care of the drug \fiends\ a hideous I fare*. - After ten days the victims are • sent out of the hospitals \cured.\ and ' she says they leave shattered' In nerve and unable to tight against the drug. Katherine Bement Davis, commission er o t charities in Mew York, says that between '35 and 50' per cent of all the criminals are drug 'fiends. < _ Pigeons require perfect ventilation, roomy quarters, because overcrowding Is fataL They must never be ex posed to bad weather, and improper feeding will quickly destroy a flock. Pigeons are very cleanly in their habits, and when\ they have the op portunity they will take a thorough water bath at least once a day. If they are denied this, they will soon contract disease and die. In warm weather the water should be changed every day It on e Is content to start with a small flock, provide good quarters, learn all one can from reliable ex pert writers, and spend a year, at least, in experimenting, one may then g o into the business in earnest and generally with very good profit. GOOD REASONS FOR POULTRY ON FARMS Interior of Modern Poultr y House. (By JAMES G. HAX.PTN, Secretary of Wisconsin Poultry Association.) The principal reason for keeping poultry is to furnish fresh eggs and fresh meat for our own tables. ThlB IB particularly true of the general farmer, wbo is usually located at some distance from a meat market and tor the most part has to depend on his own meat supply, which, were It not for the chickens and ducks, would have to be salted meat during the summer. Few of us realize bow much the poultry does toward supply ing us with good things for our table. The farmer with growing children should be especially careful to see t o it that the diet is good and fresh; poultry meat .and eggB are among the very best Too many general farmers depend on theu- women folks to do all of the work about the poultry yards. It is true that a large part of the work is often better done it left to the women folks, but there are certain things that should be done by the man. He should at leaBt see to it that the house Is kept well cleaned and occa sionally sprayed o r whitewashed. He should also see to it that the house Is kept in repair and the necessary fixtures made and so arranged that the work of caring for the flock is reduced to a minimum. The old hen likes to range about the barnyard on good days, but she should bave plenty of straw in her own house so that she can busy herself digging In it when the weather is bad) He should be just as careful to Bee t o it that the hens are well bedded as any other live stock on the farm. On stormy days, espec|ally, the man of the house should do the feeding and take a gen eral interest i n the production in stead of limiting his interest to the consumption o f the groceries pur chased by the eggs. Most farmers carry on their poultry work in a hit-or-mlss fashion that would spell disaster if used in all the farm operations. This Is the obser vation made b y a careful business man in a well-to-do farming commu nity. The question follows: \Why d o our general farmers neglect their poul try as they do and why do the authori ties keep Insisting that .more than 90 per cent of th e poultry and eggs are produced o n the general farm?\ Probably the principal reason- why so many farm flocks are badly neg lected is necauae they are scrub stock and do not, therefore, excite any admi ration in their owner. He looks at hia poultry flock -as a unit and does no t worry in the ieast about them as in dividual a. W e ar e going through rather rapid change,, nowerer, and f&rm^poultry i s going to get better and 'setter care. The wa y this i s coming about will mean a much, greater production with in the next lew Tears. In the past grain was cheap and a few bushels more or leas made little difference. But with grain high in price w e are going to pay more and more attention to the returns from every, bushel. The best way to ge t most farmers interested In poultry is to get them to settle down to some particular va riety. A s soon as tbe flock is all o f one size, shape and color visitors will begin to admire tbem. Th e owner will begin to pay more ana more at tention to them, and this extra atten tion will mean more winter egM. Be cause as soon as tbe owner begins to get proud of the flock he fixes up the bouge, nails on the loose boards, cleans out tbe filth, puts in fresh straw, whitewashes the house and does everything possible to make it comfortable for the hens. He changes his attitude entirely and instead of kicking the hens out o t tbe way gives them time to get out of the way. He begins to look at each hen as an indi vidual and as a producer of eggs that are worth money Just as soon then as the owner be gins to take interest in the flock, a large part of the hit-or -mlss method of care disappears and in turn the hens begin to get a place in the reg ular farm routine lust the same aa the rest of the live stock. The reason that farm poultry pro duces practically all of the poultry and eggs Bold here In the central West is because practically all of the hens are either on general farms or town lots. We have very few poultry farms and less poultry plants. The few are often written up but they are not numerous enough so that they affect the general market by their produc tion. The general farm is the natural place for the hen; Bhe will produce more dollars' worth of eggs on less \chargeable\ feed under general farm conditions than under any other con ditions because the hen naturally fits into the scheme of general farming, utilizing' feed 'otherwise wasted, help ing to destroy insect pests, etc Insect pests is a subject that is getting to be of gnr-ater and greater importance. In many sections w e find that the birds that are the natural destroyers of Insects are getting thinned out t o such an extent that some substitute must he found. The tarmer's flock of chickens can be used to splendid advantage as grasshopper catchers and at tbe same time prove profitable. Thus we have troublesome insects removed from the farm and converted Into egg or poultry meat The farm grows larger crops and the chickens have fuller \crops\ made up largely from the natural waste on the farm While oyster shells are necessary to poultry diet, they must not be given with the idea of taking the place of grit They ore too soft tor that pur pose. LOW R008B TRIP FARES J GMJFQRRlrVS EXPOSITION AND THEJPAG1FIG COAST Low round trip fares are nov t, effect via the Scenic Hjghaav 0 f tk Northern Pacific Ry. to Cahi 0 rnuV |S! I positions via the North Pacitic C 0 Sf These tickets permit liberal sti^oZ: and enable the tourist to include baS Expositions as Veil as a stoirover S Yellowstone National Park via OjJf ner Gateway. ^ If you will advise when you win nW ,your-Ji'eatern. J trjp ,.Lsail be pleased to- : quote rateB, Bend a copy of our haa*. some Expositions folder as tell u YellowBtonb National Park and travel '< literature, and assist you in any w l y possible 4 in planning your 1915 Tac £ tlon trip. A. M. Cleland, General Pa* j senger Agent, 617 Northern PacUj Ry, St Paul, Minnesota.—Adv. I Companionship of the pessimist via j never Improve one's digestion. THE PROFESSOR'S STATEMENT. Prof. Aug. F. W. Schmltz, Thotnu, Okla„ writes: \I was troubled trin Backache for about twenty-five yean. When told I ha d Bright's Disease ia its last stages, | tried Dodd 'i K1J- ney Pills. Mt« using two batu I wbb somewhat re lieved and I sto> ped tbe treatment. In the spring o( the next year 1 had another it, Prof. Schmltz. -tack. 1 »ent tot Dodd's Kidney Pills and' they relieve! me again. I UBed three boxes. Tbit is now three years ago and ray Back ache has not returned in its severity, and by using another two boxes a lit tle later on, the pain left altogether and I bave had no trouble since. Tot may use my statement I recotnmenj Dodd's Kidney Pills when and whej. ever I can.\ Dodd's Kidney Piils 50a per box at your dealer or Dodd's Medi cine Co., Buffalo, N. Y.—Adv. The man with a cool million always ] gets a warm reception. rOCR OWN DRUGGIST WILL TEL L YOB Try Murine fcye Oamedy for Red. Wrak Wituj Brea and Granulate d Bjolldi, N o .-martJBr- t nst Br e comfort. Write f6r Buo* o f u>« Sri ij >ufl JTroc Murin e H; e Benwlr Co Psychology of Practice. Tbe question of abort versus toor periods of practice in training the bo- man muscles for any particular till of work is obviously one having to> reaching application. Some interest ing experiments on this subject ban been carried out by Dr K. S Lasblej of Johns Hopkins university Acquisi tion of skill In archery was selected bb the subject of observation. Twenty untrained persons were divided Into three groups. One group shot fire arrows with the English lou^bffw per day; another, twenty shots per day; and the third, forty shots. Tbe n> I suits showed conclusively that til group shooting only five times a day Improved in accuracy with less ex penditure of time In practice than »u required by either of the other groups for the same amount OT Improvement A report on the experiment says: \The relatively greater efficiency ol short periods of practice continulm for many days is in accordance will the results of the study ef animals and of Bpeecb habits in man, aad it dicates that In training to muscular feats, in both animals and men, tit length of practice periods required • usually too great for maximu» eft clency.\—Scientific American He Knew. \Lucky at cards, unlucky ot tovs. | you know.\ \You bet I know,. I first met KT j wife at a progresalve euchre w»e«j I won the first prize!\ Leads to INSOMNIA Madness, If Not Remedlri | \Experiments satisfied me, bods ' years ago.\ writes a Topeka woman \that coffee was the direct cause of tht Insomnia from which I Buffered t» ribly, as well as extreme nervousa* and acute dyspepsia \I had been a coffee drinker sln« childhood, and did not like to that the beverage was doing me this harm. But it was, and the Ua came when I had to face the fact. *> protect myself. I therefore gave fll coffee abruptly and absolutely, Wl adopted Eoatum for my hot drink meals. \I began to note* improvement * my condition very soon after I twj on Postum. Th e change proceed* gradually, hut surely, and it w»« 1 matter of only a few weeks beforsj found myself entirely relieved-fl* nervousness passed away, my dl*\* tive apparatus was restored to nor*\ efficiency, and I began to sleep r*' fully and peacefully. ' , \These happy conditions bare **\ I tinned during all of the 6 years. ts» am safe in saying that I owe tM» entirely to Postum, for when I to drink I t I ceased to use medlcin* Name given by Postum Co.. BM\ Creek, Mich. Read \The Row Wellville,\ i n pkgs. Postum comes In two forms: Postum Cereal—the original ioir must be well boiled. 15c and 25c p\** instant Postum— a soluble P <\™L dissolves quickly in a cup of ho'^j ter, and, with cream and sugar, m »£jj a delicious beverage Instantly. 5Do tins. * A Both kinds, an equally delldoM\! cost abont the same per cap. • \There's » Reason\ for ****i *cJ —sold by Of***?;!
