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SPRING PLACE JIMPLECUTE.
a. OEScl. aad. Puto.
NOL XIV.
t
y-ue 000,000 more women than
men in the present population of Great
Britain.
An English naval officer writing ii
the North American Review, urges an
alliance between this country and Eng
and.
American buggies are superseding I
those of English make in London anil
Paris. The only light, graceful ve
hides in Europe come from this conn*
try.
The aggregate trade of the l)omin
ion of Canada for last year was the
largest in the history of the country,
due to largely increased trade with
the United States.
Mote than forty-one per cent, of tin
English people could not write their
names when Queen Victoria ascended
the throne. The proportion of illiter¬
ates has now been reduced to seven
per cent.
Wayback Laughter has applied tc
the Michigan Legislature to change his
name, which he declares to be “ridic¬
ulous and provocative of annoying
amusement among persons who hear it
for the first time.
Sheet iron is rolled so thin at tht
Pittsburg iron mills that twelve thou¬
sand sheets are required to make a
single inch in thickness. Light shines
through one of these sheets as readily
as it does through ordinary tissue
paper.
Florida is one of the greatest of lake
States, if the number of its lakes aud
lakelets entitles it to be so classed. It
has a half score of considerable lakes,
including Okachobee, with more than
GOO square miles, and many scores of
small lakes and ponds scattered over
an area forty or fifty miles wide and
several hundred miles long.
The Philadelphia Inquirer quotei
statistics showing that while New
York received sixty-five per cent, of
the World’s Fair imports, Philadel¬
phia received only one-third of one
per cent. It declares that Tacoma,
El Paso and Laredo are commercially
ahead of Philadelphia, and it wants to
know why these things are so.
Some of the old personal unmet
met with in this country originated in
English work-houses, where it used to
be a common thing, as Dickens in¬
timates iu “Oliver Twist,” to name
foundlings for some utensil 1 about the
asylum, or for anything else that
might strike the stupid fancy of the
authorities. Thus many persons were
launched upon the world bearing the
names of the days of the week, or
some church or street near the asylum,
and of a hundred and one other things
furnishing equally absurd cognomens.
It is not to be disputed, maintains
the St. Louis Globe-Democrat, that
the railroad interests of the country
are in a badly tangled and very dis¬
couraging condition. About oue-fifth
of the entire mileage, including sev¬
eral lines of the firat'importance, is in
the hands of receivers, and a general
shakiness prevails among the com¬
panies that still maintain their sol
vency. Roads that have heretofore
readily met all fixed charges, and paid
reasonable dividends, are now hard
pressed for means to protect their
credit and keep up the earning capaci¬
ty of their property. The causes of
this unprecedented situation are dif¬
ferently stated by different observers.
New York Life remarks: ‘ ‘The many
thousands of American who are dis¬
gusted with the' sickening details of
vivisection are not deceived by the
old argument of sacrificing animals to
save human life. If that were the
question we should hold very different
views -on the subject. As it happens,
however, the amiable viviseetor, in
uinety-niue experiments out of a hun¬
dred, has no more thought of saving
human life than has the prolessional
bull-fighter in killing his animal. It
is entertainment, pure and simple.
A live animal quivering on a table
gives a keen edge to a lecture, and
furnishes more interest to the students^,,
than any number of dry words. To
a scientist so constituted as to enjoy
this form of sport, the shrinking of
sensitive nerves from knife and pincers
affords a pleasant excitement that no
dead body can possibly supply.”
SPRING PLACE, MURRAY COUNTY, GA. SATURDAY. MAY 12, 1894.
spring song. I
Sing me a son? ot the early spring, j '
Of the yellow light where the clear air
cools, i
Of the lithe willows bourgeoning
In tlle amber pools,
Sing me a song of the spangled dells.
Where hepaticas tremble in starry groups,
Of the violets swinging their golden bells
As the light wind swoops.
Sing me a song of the shallow lakes.
Of the hollow fall of the nimble rill,
Of the trolling rapture the robin wakes
On the windy hill.
Sing me a song of the gleaming swift,
Of the vivid Maryland -yellow-throat,
Of the vesper sparrow's silver drift
From the rise remote.
Sing me a song of the crystal cage,
Where the tender plants in the frames |
are set,
Where kneels my love Armitage,
Planting the pleasant mignonette.
Sing me a song ot the glow afar,
Of the misty air and the crocus light,
Of the new moon following a silver star
Through the early nigl l
—Duncan G. Scott, in Scribner.
A QUAKER IN LOVE.
A l ' HE little Quaker
community of Hills¬
boro had been in*
s* vaded by two world¬
lings that summer,
which had so dis
-V,m L turbed its wonted
ss !> Brother been quietness forced Cox that had t o
lament more than
once, ‘ ‘Alas, that
this should be 1 The days of our
peace have gone.”
Brother Cox felt the trouble more
than the other members of the com¬
munity, for he knew that he was
partly responsible for it. To think
that his nephew, his only brother’s
son, should come out to Hillsboro, and
in these few short months raised such
a commotion among the people !
ButHhere was a redeeming virtue in
the young man which Brother Cox
dwelt upon with a feeling of relief.
Before the saucy face and bine eyes of
Ella Strattan were seen in Hillsboro
Jack Cox was as quiet and demure as
the most conservative Quaker.
True, he only attended meetings
once a week , and then it was gener¬
ally out of respect for his uncle; but
he never entered into the gay life
which had since shocked the sensibili
ties of the Quakers
Naturally, Brother Cox took a per
sonal dislike to the new tenants of the
deserted deserted, entfuo-e cottage on on the the nntnl-irt. outskirts of ol
the village, and he could scarcely con
girl’s actions^^HeTfelt *0011 viuced°tltat I
h„ piuk wnc
eyes and rippling laughtei■ suggested j
the world too strong tor the Quaker’s I
t0 “l°y
She belongs _ to the , world,” llfT Brother
Cox said one day as he passed her. j
She has no right out here among ’
our peaceful people. It will be well
lor us when she leaves.” j
They were only summer tenants,
and her daughter, consisted simply and of Mrs. Stratton, They j
two servants.
did not exhibit much wealth or finery,
but to the plain Quakers their dress
and general appearance seemed alto
gether Then out the of propriety. Ella laughed, and j |
way
tramped over the fields on foot or
rode on horseback, shocked the good
housewives. Jack Cox had known the
family in the city, and he soon joined
Ella m these rides and walks.
It was from such a simple beginning
that the trouble arose. The olden
tieement of woman had led the young
man astray, and he was soon looked
upon as being as great a sinner as the
fair temptress.
The two were practically ostracized
in the community, and the upright
Quakers passed them with only a nod
and simple word of greeting. Ella only
wondered, but Jack shrugged his
shoulders. !
Brother Cox was inclined to be more
lenient than the others. His fields
stretched nearly out to the cottage of
the Strattons, and he would often stop
in his work to glance at the red house.
One day he paused in his labors, and
looked up to discover the bright face
of Ella Stratton. She was leaning on
the fence which separated the two
grounds.
“Don’t you get tired of work, Mr.
Cox?” she asked, in a sweet voice. “I!
do, dreadfully, and you are older than I
lam.’
The good Quaker straightened him- i
self up to his full six feet. He was i
still a fine-looking man of fifty, with I !
gray locks, a calm, noble lace and
dark eyes. :
he “Work answered keeps seriously. us from mischief. ” j
“I know that, an* I suppose you
think I ought to be at work now, and j
not standing here to bother you, ” she
;
replied. :
“It would be better for you,” was
the rather unexpected reply.
The girl’s cheeks colored a little at
the ungallant words, but she asked,
demurely: “Do yon think I’m so very
■wicked?”
‘‘TELL THE TRUTH.”
“Ye are of the world, and worldly*
minded. I cannot judge thee, but
thv actions have uot my approval.”
“Oh, what do I do that you don’t
like?” she asked, in a penitent voice.
“You know that I have been brought
up so, and how could I know what to
do?”
“That isn’t the question; ye can do j
better now. ” |
“Oh, I would like to do better—so
much! Will you tell me how? 1 1
should like so much to have you, for
I like you.”
This was said in so artless and in
nocent a tone that it went straight j
home to the man’s heart. As he
walked away from the place five !
minutes later he recalled the look ;
which accompanied the words. Such j
face, such eyes, moutli and ex
pression are not often seen in this ;
prosaic world, and Brother Cox should 1 !
be forgiven for thinking of them
again, and then again. He never j |
knew before how pretty and winning
the “Stratton girl” was. .
“If sho was only of our belief and j
number,” he muttered to himself, j
“But I might try to make her one.
She is not yet lost to wickedness. She j
wants to learn. I’ll teach her.”
After that the old hedge proved a, !
regular trysting-place for the two.
Ella found plenty of excuses for going
out to the fields, and Brother Cox culti-'
rated the field near that fence oftener
thau elsewhere. The weeds persisted
in cropping up on the west side of the
field, and he felt bound to keep them
under control.
One day Ella brought some lemon
ade out to him, carrying it in a small
silver pitcher. It was some of her
own manufacture, and the day was so
warm that it was very refreshing.
“Oh, Mr. Cox, I have some lemon
ade for von,” she said, as she hurried
over the field. “I hope you like
lemonade. I made it myself, and you
looked so hot and tired out here in
the sun that I had to bring yon a
drink.”
Brother Cox did drink, and smacked
his lips. It was so kind of her to
think of him, and while he talked he
admired her bright face and .j inuors.
Could any man look upon such a
vision of 'beauty and not feel his pulse
boat faster? Cold and dutiful as the
Quaker was, there was still much vi
tality of youth in his strong frame.
After all, he was only a man, and
the rights of nature soon broke
brough all barriers of steel.- H» loved
the beautiful girl who helped him to
lemonade.
... J ?°° ^ ,, d „ , bright ,
i lfi 10 0 !°, r „' sucl a
f ,lr , 0 u P on W1 th favor ? He had
been oa e< , ’ the handsomest man of
“
2*° ‘ ea , col wlle | ml1Ili and |y be before |£ BS 8111-0 he oourtRd he still llif! I
sess<)d ’ pos
some of the requisites ot a
,
^ h h ^ , . I
8e< d’ and give her a fine home. He
.
«> i»«- "'“-“j
» *
sturdy ’She may be frail now, but the j
oak was once but a sapling,
ho Haul She can learn and grow
He trod the floor ol his old home with
» lighter and firmer step. The bare
ness ol the old-fashioned rooms im
f Diction. e8Sed They with would a sense have ot to dissatis- be |
re
furnished and brightened. The flowers
and vines around the house needed
cultivation and pruning, and even the
outside of the house would need a new
coat; of paint,
Brother ‘ ‘f ’ vo fought Cox muttered, of doing “arid this before, it ” i I
may
bo done now.
there were improvements about the j
the gardens and the outbuild-1
Avble! ; -were readily suggested to :
critical eye. He made notes ol 1
these things and resolved to make a ;
complete transformation.
.She has been brought up in the
ways of the city and she would not
like to come to a gloomy house. It 1
will be just as well to improve things
a little at first. She can’t grow into
our ways at once.”
The golden harvest of the'autumn
was approaching. The crops nodded
obeisance to the reapers on every side.
The autumn colors suggested peace
and quietness in the Quaker com- |
rnimity after the toilsome days of the {
summer.
Brother Cox stood by the hedge sep
arating his fields from the garden sur
rounding the tenant’s cottage.
The day’s work had been finished
and the faint shadows suggested the
approach of twilight. Ella Stratton,
with a meek, demure face, was stand
ing before him.
“I feel that I have become so much
better this summer, ” she said. “You
know why; yon have been so good to
me and taught me so much.”
“You should not say that, for it
might make me vain. Such a sin
should not come to me at my age.”
“Why, you are not old, Mr. Cox.”
There was a thrill of pleasure in the
sturdy frame, and it seemed to straight- 1
en more erectly than ever.
“Then my errand here will be made
easier for me. Ye know that I have :
come here for a purpose. Ye have
guessed it?”
“Yes, Mr. Cox, I have,” was the
quick reply, while the face flushed
beautifully.
Thin must be the way of the world,
he thought, for the girl to make sue!
advances. It was so different in the
community.
“I would have spoken to thee be¬
fore, but I. wished to know thee bet¬
ter. That’s why I’ve spent so many
hours at this fence talking to thee.”
“Oh, how kind of you! I wanted
to know you better, too. I thought
probably different you would dislike me. I was
80 from yon—and wicked.”
“But ye are learning our ways, and
ye art very apt. Ye can be very good,
and there is nothing like having a
protector.”
“And such a good protector as I
shall have, ” she said, with a look of
admiration at him.
‘‘Ye are kind to say so. The Coxes
have always been good to their wives
an d families. ”
“1 know that, for they are so good
to every one now. I love them ; I be
beve that I love the whole family. I
this never enjoyed a summer so much aa
one in Hillsboro.”
It was graceful for her to say it. He
f®lt that she made his wooing easy.
How remarkable that she had
divined his feelings all along!
“Then ye think that I will suit
time?” ho asked, in a voice that was
almost raillery. “Ye have studied me
enough at the fence?”
“Yes; I know I shall like you; I
it from the first. Everybody
^thought that you were so cold and
Stern that you couldn’t love any one,
I knew differently. 1 liked you
then, and now I love you. ”
Bhe kissed his brawny hand im
pulsively, her warm lips sending a de
thrill through him.
This was not an old man’s courting,
but ft young woman’s, and, though
strange to Brother Cox, it had a
sweetness that drowned any thoughts
¥ wrong,
Blushed with his success, he felt
A* 1 * he could be plainer, and he con
Hnned, “Ye know J.’m strict in my
JM¥ng, Me. not approving frailties and gay
That should repel thee.”
“Oh, no! Jack told me all about
that at first. He said you were strict,
but. that you had a loving heart be¬
neath it all. He always got along
Well with yon and he knew that I
would. ”
_’‘ACk, lad been Jack ! Had he known of it all?
he putting her up to this
Leeve | raD fi at ' wooing, his uncle s laughing sentiment? in his
Iho ;irl continued rapidly, “He
’ va nted v o speak to you first and tell
* u ftl - Iif! you would dis
prove of our match, but 1 told him
not to tell you, I would first win
your friendship and then your love.
1 would meet you every day, and if I
could make you like me by autumn,
then he could tell you. I didn’t know
as I could marry him if you didn’t give
j' ml consent consent, but DU l when unon I L found tonnu how now
nice and good you were I felt that it
was all right. ”
Jp£re°d dadT
”* ”
Brother Cox heard the voice of the
ifl> , jut it ftl] seemed HO stran e . He
had not thought of Jack.
.. Arc J oin ° now? 0 h, £ yes, it
ig ttin dark! 1 didn > t reali e that
itwassolate , I must go back to the
b too The dew is on the f a
Good njght Jack and 1 mU a way8
j oye you „ always ”
Ho felt tlle p rea sure of the warm
lips on i lis hand again, but they did
not send a thrill through him as before.
It certainly was dark walking across
the field, and, several times Brother
Oox gt d to find his wa It was
Grange that he shouid get lost in the
fields which he had tilled and culti
vated for f orfc „ years When he
reached the houae ke f el t tired, and he
MBted ou the front piazza before en
tering the large dining-room. The
paillter8 and car p e nters had left their
tools around, reminding him of the
improveme J nts ho was having made in
hig home They seemed a mockery
now
He entered the house and walked
across the strong floors. Then he
strolled toward the dining-room.
“Jack, Jack, where are ye? I want
to see thee. Come here 1 I know all
—everything. She has told me, aud
ye have my approval. I’m getting
the house fixed up, and ye must come
here and live.”
“Is it really true, uncle? You are
as good as you are handsome, uncle,
Ella always said you were.”
“Ye must live here every summer,
and come and see me as often as ye
nan in winter.”
“\y e -rv-ijl, uncle.”—New York
World.
An Explosive Well.
A well in Dublin, Ind., has been
acting queerly recently. The well is
about twenty feet deep, and contains
eight feet of water. The other day it
began to bubble aud boil. A lighted
torch was applied, when a loud ex¬
plosion took place. In a short time
another torch was applied with the
same result, and lor half a dozen more
times when a torch was held over the
well a loud report followed, blowing
off everything that was over the well,
The boiling still continues with nc
less force.—Chicago Herald,
The peanut could be grown in the
light soils of the North to considera
ble advantage. It makes good stock
food and the vines make good hay.
ftl.OO a year in Advance.
WORDS OB WISDOM.
Men have sight; women insignt. —.
Victor Hugo.
Earnestness commands the respect
of mankind.—John Hall.
All human power is a compound of
time and patience. —Balzac.
Conceit nmy puff a man up, but can
never prop him up.—Buskin.
Words are an amazing barrier to
the reception of truth. —Sydney Smith.
Take not too short a time to make a
world-wide bargain in.—Shakespeare.
Honor to those whose words aud
deeds thus help’us in our daily needs.
—Longfellow.
The showy lives its little hour; the
true to aftertimes hears raptures ever
new.—Goethe.
Who lives to nature rarely can be
poor; who lives to fancy never can be
rich.—Edward Young.
He that cannot forgive others
breaks the bridge over which he him¬
self must pass.—Herbert.
A smile is the color which love
wears, and cheerfulness and joy—
these three. —H. W. Beecher.
One day at a time 1 It’s a whole¬
some rhyme; a good one to live by, a
day at a time.—H. H. Jackson.
We are ashamed at the sight of a
monkey—somehow as we are shy of
poor relations. —Charles Lamb.
The essence of knowledge is, having
it, to apply it; not having it, to con¬
fess your ignorance. —Confucius.
In every age there are a few men
who hold the opinions of another age,
past or future.—Charles Reade.
Every real and searching effort at
self-improvement is of itself a lesson
of profound humility. —Gladstone.
The two most engaging powers of an
author are, to make new things
familiar and familiar things new.—
Johnson.
Obeyed Orders Strictly.
“When I was a youngster of seven
teen,” said a successful business man
to a Detroit Free Press reporter, “I
got a job as collector with a man who
was about as strict a martinet as I ever
saw. He insisted on everything being
done just as he said, and there were
times when life was verily a burden,
but 1 stuck to him for six months, then
we had a difference. It was this way :
One morning he called me up and
handed me a bill on a man I knew and
said to me to take it around and cob
lect it. .
“ ‘It’s one of our standbys, ’ he said,
‘and every collector I ever sent to him
reported him absent, or uot fiudable or
something. Now you go and don’t
come back here till you see him.’
“ ‘Do you mean that,’ I asked,as two
or three clerks looked up.
“ ‘You know me,’ was all he said in
reply and I went out after my man.
“He wasn’t at home, the people
said, and wouldn’t be for six weeks.
So 1 stuck the bill in my pocket and
went off up the country on a visit.
The old man sent after me half a dozen
times, but my folks could only tell I
was out of town, and I never paid any
attention to a letter I got from the
boss, but went on enjoying myself.
Then I came back and had a visit with
some other friends and at the end of
six weeks I called on my man again
with the bill. 1 found him at home
and told him what I had done, and he
paralyzed me by paying the bill with
interest. Two hours later I stepped
into the boss’s office.
“ ‘There,” I said, before he had time
to gather his wits, ‘is the amount of
your bill and interest. He was out of
town for six weeks and I couldn’t see
him before. You toid me not to come
back till I did see him, and I was obey¬
ing your instructions. I had a rat¬
tling good time and the house owes me
six weeks’ salary. ’
“The old man gasped, got blue in
the face and I thought he was going
to explode, but he didn’t; he gulped
it all down and stuck out his hand.
“ ‘Young man,’ he said, ‘you ought
to have been a soldier; I’m going to
put you in charge of the collection de¬
partment and double your salary.’
And,” concluded the merchant, “when
I was twenty-five I was a partner.”
When the Hair Was Powdered.
Hair powder was first introduced
into England by ballad singers at the
fair of St. Germaine in the year 1614,
and it was long before it became
adopted as a fashionable ornament.
I 11 the beginning of the reign of
George I. only two ladies of rank wore
powder in their hair, and they were
laughed at for their singularity; and
at the coronation of George II. there
were only two hairdressers in London.
The rapidity with which dressing the
hair and wearing powder increased
is evident from the calculation made
by Pitt in 1795, when he proposed the
hair powder tax. It was then esti¬
mated that there wore in Great Britain
50,000 hairdressers; that the flour
they consumed annually iu hair-pow¬
der was to the value of $10,000,000,
and the number of persons wearing it
amounted to 200,000; so that, sup¬
posing a tax of one guinea a head were
laid on, it would yield over $1,000,000
per annum. The amount, however,
fell far short of this sum, and con¬
stantly decreased. In the first year of
the tax, 1795, it only produced $950, -
000, and in 1803 it had sunk to $250,
000 .
NO. 10.
THAT’S WHAT!
What’s the use in weepin",
Just because it snows?
"When the blizzard’s sweepin’,
Sing about a rose!
What’s the use in cryln’
When it’s hot enough to kill?
When the fat is fryin’,
Try an’ have a chill t
What's the use to holier
When fortune doesn’t please?
Think you’ve got a dollar
And jingle all your keys I
World is like you find it;
If you rise or fall,
Laugh an’ never mind it—
Best world of 'em all 1
—Atlanta Constitution.
PITIi AND POINT.
A touching case—“Lend me five.”
A coat, of arms is a good thing to
trade on if you have no other capital.
—Puck.
Every man has a show in life, but
few of them find it a circus. —Texas
Siftings.
farnouq EverJS^nan if he thinks had he might time to become write
more
poetry.—Atchison Globe.
Your real troubles will begin when
it is necessary to put up window
screens.—Atchison Globe.
“What makes somegirls look young
so long?” “The men are to blame,
They won’t propose.”—Life’s Calen¬
dar.
“Why was Bjones fired?” “He gov
the idea into his head that he was one
of the big guns.”—Philadelphia Rec¬
ord.
Van Warbler—“Ah, Stabbes, have
yon heard my last song?” Stabbes—
“Goodness knows, I bope so.”—Brook
lyn Life.
Don’t be a clam. If you’ve got to
be anything of the kind be a mud tur¬
tle. Then you may have some snap
to you.—Texas Siftings.
A little learning is a dangerous thing,
Yet he whose knowledge is but small
Inflicts upon us much less suffering
Than does the man who knows it all.
—Chicago Tribune
Mr. McCorkle was showing some
visitors over the house. Arriving at
the nursery he Remarked: “This,
gentlemen, is the bawl-room. Tit*
Bits.
Caller—“Hok do jofi like your new
cook?” Hostess—“I don’t know.
What I am trying to find out is how
the new cook likes me.”—Detroit Free
Press.
Miss d’Anglemont—“I suppose you
call your dog Cupid because he is such
a love of adog?” Mr. d’Anlan—“Not
exactly. You see, he is blind.”—
Hogue.
“No,” admitted a man this morning,
“my wife never tells me that she is
fond of me, but she always makes the
kind of pie I like best.”—Atchison
Globe.
“And now,” said the new Secretary.,
“yez may all rise, an’ whin I call the
roll ivery wan who is prisint may sit
down; all the rist remain sthandin’.” 1
—Elmira Gazette.
Hardnp—“That man looks as thougl
he had smallpox. 1 wouldn’t touch
him for $10.” Wigwag—“You prob¬
ably wouldn’t get it if you did.
Philadelphia Record.
Lucy—“And you’re going to marry
that rich old fellow ? Do you realize
what you are doing?” Molly—“Cer*
taiuly; coining the seigniorage.”-—
Cleveland Plain Dealer.
McClauters (of the sixt’)—“What’ll
you do when you gets out of that job
in the city’s emplo-oy?” Tracers
(mournfully)—“Go to work, I sup¬
pose. ’’—Chicago Record.
Witts—“Yes, thermometers, as yon
say, are all right for cold, but—”
Watts—“But what?” Witts—“A fur¬
nace is the only correct thing to reg¬
ister heat.”—Buffalo Courier.
“How did it happen that Biggs was
arrested by an agent for the S. P,
C. C?” “He was caught in the act of
abusing his baby.” “What was he
doing?” “Singingitto sleep.”—Chi¬
cago Inter-Ocean.
Married in Two aud a Half Seconds.
When the town board meeting of
West Indianapolis was iu session last
night Justice of the Peace Allen, who
was present, was summoned to perform
a marriage ceremony. The contract¬
ing parties were John Perry and Miss
McGreevy. The ceremony was per¬
formed at the residence of the bride
on Bridge street. When Mr. Allen
entered the house he was desired by
both parties that the ceremony be a
short one. Mr. Allen promptly tied
the knot. Mr. Wynne, who had taken
his watch from his pocket to note the
time consumed in the ceremony,
startled them all by announcing that
the world’s record had just been
broken.
■‘Yon have taken only two and one'
half seconds in the ceremony.”
Another gentleman present affirmed
Mr. Wynne’s statement.—Indianapo¬
lis Journal.
jQJ^e demand for Western cow-ponies
has increased, owing to their being
ushd as polo ponies in the East.
Prices have risen and it would appear
as if there was money in the business.