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THE MARKED MAN
, CHAPTERI = .
i .
I The Viking’s Story ™
Gustaf Erickson sat in the ¢'san
whitewashed kitchen of his house on
Madrid beach and watched his son
Norman disapprovingly, His small
blinking eyes moved restelessly from
beam to locker to panel, fixing them
selves nowhere, returning each time
to the tall lean figure of his son. The
boy- was stufiing & plckerel for their
dinner. Over_his.old dungarees, faded
and scraped thin at the knees and
“elbows, [i& wore a' woman’s blue apron,
Gustaf obzerved it, scowling, It was
his wife's; apron. She had been dead
six days. B
Norman deftly bent the slim body. of
the pickerel to fit the square baking
dish and slid the pan into the oyen.
As he opened the iron door heat
slapped out into the room. Sweat
rose on his forehead at the edge of
his straight blond hair. He walked
to a narrow shelf under the window
and poured two dippers of water into
a tin basin. '
His father regarded him critically.
Norman’s hands distressed old Gustaf.
They were too slender. The fingers
were too thin and too long. Their
suppleness irritated the old man, just
as the comfortable way Norman wore
the apron irritated him. Somehow the
hands and the apron suggested the
land, and the womanish ways of lands
men,
A salty anger arose in Gustaf Er
ickson, anger at his son, at youth,
at the passive and secure content of
all men who did not thirst for the sea.
#How long yet you goin’ to work
on that wagon job?’ he asked. His
voice had a windy flavor, as if it had
been tuned and broken against the
resonant chorus' of mighty storms. |
" Norman took™fiis serious blond face ‘
from “the rolter towel. He looked at
his father before he" answered.
“1 figured on golng back tomorrow,” |
he said at length. “Hans gave me as
long off as I needed. 1 was staying
at home on account of things here.
“That ain’t what I'm asking. How
long yet you going to waste time driv
‘ing around on a.wagon?”
b “Two months more, anyway . . ."
- @Qustaf tapped the arm-of his chair
with the short, knotted, once capable
.fingers .of his. broad right hand
¥es eyes, which had a habit
of widening or screwing shut accord
-dng to thie heat of his temper, regard
€d -his. son with emphatic disapproval.
= «Pell-’'em . you're quitting,” -he said.
He spoke'slowly. He pronounced his
words firmly as he always d.d when
there was malice. in him. *“You've
'fode -around enough . on -land. I'm
» takin*: you partners.”
* «In the boat?* Norman asked. Gus
‘tat"thought that he winced.
| “Sure, in the boat. Tomorrow.”
"* Norman turned without comment to
the ‘window. He knew that argument
\was futile. He could no more dispute
f(he verdict of his father than he could
' stop the rush of water in Lake Michi
loan. He stared out at the lake re
; ;glllt_msly, conscious of his father’s
‘eyes boring hard- at his back. He did
Pd't wish to fish. Since the-firsi -day he
could remember, another day -of-storm
iand disaster on the coast, ‘that vast
heaving® water had moeked -him, It
had combated him. It had’ taunted
mm and” dared him to hate -it.
And he could not bate.it. His re
sentment against deep water was
;eooted often by another sensation, a
strange tugging at his heart, particu
larly on-quiet days when it rolled with
‘a slow oily tempo. If the lake" were
‘:ln to+old Gustaf it must: be kin to
im. -‘His - father loved it more than
:he*did- wife or child; more than life
dtself, BT w :
. * Whole-souled old Gustaf offeréd the
disdainful witers a passionate and
l‘mmlng devotion. His brittle heart
softened when he thought of those
wet, unresponsive wastes. Thelr buf
fets onty endeared them to him, their
repulses stimulated his hot desire,
their . austere resistance stirred him
to new unreasoning attempts to con- |
quer, : i
~ Norman understood this fn his fa
ther. .qu_Oultnt played’ the part of .
‘%ulionu.e loves 'to Lake Michigan. -
His little black-eged mother had
::lowq‘,thal.’. ‘Certainfy she had not
wed such a rivil, She had not be-
Jonged here ot the beach 1n the wind
and spray. She' hid dled yearning
for a farm. A dozen times in these
‘lfx days Norman had blamed the cold
compassionless. waters .or her hard
lite, her lonely death.,
; It's time you learned to fish,” Gustaf
growled. “Been enough wearin' of
'lp‘?po and spidin’ around on lind’
and drlvin’ folks' wagons for any boy
o mine! I'l make a man o' you now.”
He arose jerkily from his chalr and
~crossed to the door, His back was
bent, just as his arms were and his
legs. He once had been ‘uller than
his son was: pow. Age had shrunk
‘him, pinching his flesh and bones.
He siammed the door behind him and
sat down gullenly upon the step. e
was ashamed ¢ his son.
“Pll learn him to sall,” he grum
bled, “learn him now!"
His shoaglaers were hunched as he
“gat on the kitchen step. His attitude
gave him, somehow, the appearance
_of great strength. He knew what the
:no fn Madrid Bay thought of blm.
; belleved him worn out. He had
. that, the way they pitied him
the day of his wife's funeral. They
were mistaken, He wasn't worn out.
He could still conquer his son. The
strength was there, hidden deep down
tu hig body that was wasting under
the heartless inroads of the years,
His tired old hands were capable still
of immense feats of lifting, short
bursts of terrifying toil. His big
fists were hard. He held them locked
now, over his big knees,
“Him an Erickson!” he grumbled.
“A grown boy, and still ashore!”
Gustaf knew the duties of an Erick
son. An Erickson went to sea. On
salt, in the old days. But he wouldn't
insist on that for Norman. He'd be
satisfied with the lakes.
Gustaf Erickson had sailed broad
~old square riggers In the days of his
blond inquisitive youth. He had felt
the sleet of the Cape and the Horn
on his face. He had sweat himself
into fever in<the Sargasso sea and
then, because of fabulous tales of a
dollar d day with the Groat Lakes
lumber fleets, he had left salt water
tehind him, and never regretted it.
A man could domineer labor on the
lakes. He rose in five years from sec
ond mate to master of a pot-bellied,
over-worked shingle schooner, com
manded her for three boisterous sea
sons, and one night, alone, swam
ashore from her heart-breaking wreck
on Mustache shoal.
His terified crew hed taken the boat
ten hours before. Lashed to his wheel,
Gustaf Erickson, stubborn, pitiless, un
afraid, an unthinking. mariner who up
held the dignity of the old sea,
watched his eraft sink lower and lower,
and boiling waves swarm over her
decks. In the morning, the morning
of his thirty-eighth birthdav, groping
a spar, he was tossed ashore and
crawled, beaten, up a flat sandy
beach.
He had lived a long, long life.
A French-Canadian farmer found
him and took him home., Three menths
later Gustaf married the -farmer's
daughter. Why not? She was young,
meek, womanly and available. By
Gustaf’s choice they named their son
Norman.
“If it's"a girl,” he had said, “call
her Aleece, or Ami, or any of the
French names you want. If he's a
boy, he’s a sailor, like me and my
father and my gradpaw. I”ll call him
Norman, aftet my gradpaw.”
By the same bewildering odds that
had broken up Gustaf’s schooner and
cast him safely to land, his soa Nor
ma had declined to put to sea.
Hunched. over on the back step, await
ing the fish that Norman baked, Gus
‘taf Ericksoh thought of the five fret
ful years he had tilled miserly soil. He
had wasted many good plowing hours
staring across dunes at the beckoning
lake. Then one morning, while his
wife cried out bittérly that he did not
love her, that he never had loyed her,
he sailed away to the fishing banks.
He had no crew to bully. Alone, reck
less, early seasons and late, he drove
the hoat that his own hands had bulilt,
setting and lifting nets, matching his
temper against wind and weather, al
ways making good catches of fish.
He moved hig wife without cere
mony from the farm to the house on
the beagh. She was past all remon
strance then, And each winter there
after, while ice spread over the water,
Gustaf Erickson sat by .the stove,
night #Tter night, In this same white
washed " kitchen,. and told mon§trous
tales of the five fresh lakes and the
seven salty seas.
Only once, in the years that Nor
man’'s mother kept”his house, did Gus
taf strike her: that night she had pro
tested when he flogged their son.” He
got out a piece of half-inch rope be
cause the boy had sniveled llké a
baby ovér Gu:' f's favorite story of
‘thie captain's © amddog t 0
“It was a g od dog” old Gustat
had sald, “a'big ‘dog, strong, hairy all
over, His name ‘was Nels, ‘We liked
that dog. The schagner . . . ah,
the Gottland, she ‘was a fine strong
schooner, a five-master! Nobody ever
jump ship off her, 1 tell you. Til'
that captain's. come aboard for a ‘
voyage, Why oy think that wom
an come ayy\ P e |
Old Gusth{,‘ Iodl?
“We hate her, us 0p schooner. She
never give nobody ‘endugh to eat, not
even ‘her old man. She wis punished
for itl It blows three days down off
Newfoundiand, Blow? How ean |1 tell
it!The third night . . . by Mack
inac, we all was glad when It gets
dark that night so we don’t have to
look no more at the waves! 1 was at
the wheel, The captaln, 1 know not
where that captain was. He wus all
over, He wus a good sallor, But his
woman, she sit with the dog In the
cabin. Jupiter, was she scared! We'd
of been kind of glad she feel bad, all
of us on schooner, If we was not so
seared ourselves, And then that’blg
- wave come along, two, three times as
blg as all the rest, The biggest wave
in the world. It smashed in the cabin
skylight, tore right through -the tar.
paullns . . push, rvight Inl- It
took out all the bulkhead on the port
glde. The ocean does not love the
captain's wife. A big, big hole!
#] gee something float past when |
have wiped the salt from out my eyes.
Two somethings, out that skylight. I
hollered. Hollered loud. The eaptain
came. It was all awash o the cabin.
Dark. He found no dog. No wife.
“Jt was a good dog. We feel sorry
that dog was lost. But the woman?
She give nobody enough to eat”
Gustat would light his pipe at this
polnt, pufiing contemplatively over
CHARLTON COUNTY HERALD
‘A Romance of the
Great Lakes
by KARL W. DETZER
Copyright by Tha nggl‘—ch:emll Co. i
the merciless justice of the sea. Many
nights he repeated the tale in his grim
weary singsong. The lake wept on its
beaches, end his son Norman, fleeing
white-faced.to bed, lay awake under
the hand-hewn shingles, hour after
pitiless hour, with terror sitting atr&!
the flannel covers, pressing the hreats¥
out of his iungs, tormenting sleep
from the room.
“I'll make that boy a sailor yet!” he
heard old Gustaf storm to Lis mother.
“Why should. an Erickson act so?”
Gustaf never forgot that night’s
scene, any more than Norman did. The
sympathy that grew up between his
faithful, harassed litile wife and his
son seemed unfair to him. He watched
i* suspiciously. He assigned all his
fallures with Norman to ber, attrib
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“How Long Yet You Goin' to Work
on That Wagon Job?”
uted contemptuously to back-hills
French -blood the sensitive spot in his
son’s pliant adoléscent mind. To be
sure he regretted his wife's abrupt re
moval from hig life. It was a shock
to discover one morning that she had
gone to bed quitely and died.
. Norman cleaned the house carefully
after the funeral. He saw her, wait
ing; always in an apron, for his fa
ther’s boat to tome ashore. He put on
the apron without distaste when neces
sity drove him to do her work. It did
pot occur to him that it might be a
soft womanish symbol to his father.
i“You been layin’ around land long
enough,” Gustaf grumbled that noon
when he finished the pickerel and po
tatoes. “Nearly twenty jears old, and
where you ever sailed? Madrid bay!
Thet's fine sailin’ for a gros n man,
now ain’t it? I was twice around the
Horn when | was twenty, My paw
and my gradpaw didn’t die ashore.
Why | name you Norman?”
He kicked his chair back from the
table. Norman arose. It was apparent
as they stood side by side how much
taller he was now than his father, In
his pink Erickson face, there showed
clean untested lines.
War Communique That Has Its Amusing Side
, An amusing Instance of war propa
ganda in the form of an official com
munique which gaye an astounding
Spanish version of the battle between
Sir Francis Drake and the Spanish
armada, has just come to light in
London, Plerre Van Paassen records,
in the Atlanta Constitution, This of
ficial Spanish proclamation, issued In
Madrid by the government of Philip
I In September, 10588, tells a story
which will astonish every schoolboy
who remembers the story of the fa
mous game of bowls, und the sub
sequent trouncing of the Spanigh
fleet. The Spanish communique re
lutes that the duke of Medina, in com
mand of the Spanish fleet, salled up
the channel as far as Plymouth
“where, having been notitied of the
enewy's presence, he uustered und
placed o order all his warships; and
erylging along the channel, on August
1, they discerned some enemy sulls,
which the following duy appeared to
be sixty warships, These the duke
caught up and overtook, but they
would not glve battle, although 1t was
represented to them.” From this point,
the Spunish version proceeds to re
late that flonlly some of the Engish
”—-_—-—‘-——-—————-———-—
Caesar’s Personality
Historlans say thit Jullus Caesar
was tall and of commanding presence,
His features were angular and prom
fnept. He bhad a falr complexion, with
keen, expressive black eyes. In later
years he was bald; at no time of his
life did he wear a beard. Though en
dowed with a constitution naturally
by no means robust, he became inured
‘ to hardship and exhibited astonishing
- powers of endurance, In matters of
dress, he was particular to the verge
\ of effeminacy.
“I'm goin2 out,” Norman said, He
nodded indefinitely in the directicn of
town. *ll won't be back for supper.”
Old Gustaf growled.
-~ “Get In early,” he ordered. “And
tell Hans Miller what 1 say. Tell him
Jyou're through drivin’ wagon., You're
going to have a man's job!”
It was two o'clock when Norman
walked out soberly from the lNouse.
His father watched him go gloomily,
without taking the trouble to answer
his balf-hearted good-by. Norman
made deliberately across the beach
P\whllé still within sight of his father’s
&r&th. But once beyond it, turned
ide and proceeded north, up toward
Ottawa lake. He had small idea where
he was going. Except that he had no
intention of seeking Hans Miller this
afternoon, or of imparting to him at
once his father’s decision that he must
go as helper in the boat. He hated the
Great lakes Intensely that minute. He
hated fishermen, He hated boats, the
smell of boiling nets, wind, waves,
three-day blows,
Life was extraordinary. Here he
‘Wds, his mother dead not a week, and
‘this thing he had dodged all his life
“immediately caught up with bhim. A
job in the fishing fleet!
He had worked more than three
yéars for Hans Miller, who owned
the store ir Madrid Bay, Lelping the
fat Dutchman put up ice and do other
odd jobs in winter, in summer deliver
ing the ice and fres. green vegetables
to the back «doors of resort cottages
along Ottawa lake. From the begin
ning his father had objected to the
agon. The day Miller took him on
.. . the boy bad run. down the
wharf to his father’s fish shanty to
tell him the news.
“Your name's Erickson,” Gustaf ex
ploded when Normar paused for
breath. “An Erickson driving a gro
cery wagon!”
Norman still remembered it resent
fully. His mother had taken no part
in that quarrel. Her bewildered black
eyes were troubled at the argument,
but she offered no counsel, Only once,
and he rer.embered now the anxiety
on her face, she had taken him aside
and reminded him dutifully, but with
no conviction, that other boys fished
with their fathers.
It was the winds Norman dreaded;
the rage of waves dismayed him, Al
ways during the tempestuous weather
of three-day blows, he remembered
Gustaf’s story of the schooner Gott
land and the captain’s dog. He'd not
tell his father that. g
“A dam’ poor Erickson,” old Gus
taf would complain, “No stomach for
winds, pfaugh!’ i
Gustaf made that “pfaugh!” an ugly
word. He had a way of thrusting it in
to Norman's flesh like a fish knife. To
be sure he need never hear it again.
He had stayed in his father’s house
because of his mother, hadn’t he? To
rizht, tomorrow, he could start out
unmindful of winds and weathers. He
could leave the lake and all its dis
tasteful memories, could settle some
where beyond the hills,
and farm? He wa'ked a bit more
rapidly at ‘the thought. He hated
farms,
He passed up the long gentle rise
of the road behind the village and at
the top sat down, Here, somewhere
near this spot where he was sitting,
he had fought once when he was a
small boy. He had fought and lost.
It was with a schoolmate named Ed
die Baker, one day when he had been
walking home with Julie Richaud.
The standard school in Madrid vil
lage, where Norman spent eight short,
ships did engage In real battle, which
resulted in fifteen of them belng taken
by the Spanish, including Sir Francis
Drake's flagship, with the admiral
himself on board, What happened next
the communique does not stale, the
imagination of the officlal writer hav
ing exhausted itself by that time.
Similarly, during the World war, gome
communiques left troops at a certain
point aund never referred to them
again,
Goes With Piano
Jean Ann Blomker, less than four
yeare old, was In a children’s day pres
entation at the church, Her father
was trying to get her to glve her reel
tation at home before the eventful day,
“1 don't remember 1t Jean Ann as
serted when her daddy trled to coax
her to speak.
“Well, think,” he sald,
“1 am thinking. 1 know it but 1
can't pay It”
“Well, now, how does it go,” he
begged,
“It goes with tha plano,” she an
swered promptly.
Energetic Conversation
R. L. Jones has canlculated that If a
milllon persons were to talk steadily
and the energy of thelr volces were
to be converted into heat, they would
have to talk for an hour and a half
to produce enough heat to make n cup
ful of tea (even If they were all poll
ticlans) l=Nature
American Toleration
There ara Japanese and Chinese
temples of worship In New York city,
Chicago, San Francisco and other
large cities, nlso churches for other
heathen denomipations,
satisfying terms, was remarkable !or|
only one thing, Two camps of cml-‘
dren succeeded during school hours in
living amicably under the same roof.
Even in his youth Norman was con
scious of these two discordant forces,
because he belonged by right of blood
to both of them,
One group, big, blond, slow, thor
ough, came from the neat homes of
the village fishermen, The other group,
small, quick, ill-disciplined, with sharp
black eyes like Norman’s mother,
were the sons and daughters of
French-Canadian farmers who came
¢owa in an onslaught from the black
hifis,
Julle Richaué was one of these.
She arrfved on an autumn morning
when Norman was struggling with
fourth-grade reading. He was eleven
years old. He had grown too rapidly.
His legs were bony, and the short
knee breeches his mother had made
for him four months before already
had crawled upward, till they did not
conceal the tops of his bhand-knit
stockings, He was self-conscious and
his voice had just broken,
Julie Richaud was a small, round,
flashing-eyed girl, who cared less than
nothing for any book or the confining
routine of district school discipline.
With her arrival Norman felt for the
first time in his life a dim satisfaciion
that be was bhalf-F'rench, She made
eyes at him for three days, On the
fourth, during voon lunch period, she
kissed him on the cheek.
“l 1 like you,” she told him, *“What
funny yellow hair you got!”
Norman flushed and wriggled free.
He stayed out of Julie’s reach during
the remainder of the fourth grade, The
next year he was more friendly, even
going so far as to run away from
school with her one morning recess.
They spent two ecstatic hours propped
~on their elbows at the end of the
dock counting the gulls that flew
- overhead.
They returned to school in the after
noon. Together, after the others were
dismissed, they wrote the word “tru
ant” five hundred times.
It was an afternoon late in May
. « « Norman was twelve years old
and the fifth-year term bhad less than
a week to run ~ . . when he
walked with Julie to the top of this
hill road where he was now siti'ng.
Julie was singing. It was not a tune.
Nerely something about bean soup
hot and cold. Never for a moment
was her tongue still. She stopped
suddenly and sald: “Eddie Baker
cheated in spelling today, Norman.
Twice, 1 seen him. What do you
think teacher’'d do if she catched 'im?¥”
Norman did not know. He could
think of nothing that would appall
Eddie Baker, not even the end of the
world. At the top of the hill he sald,
“See you t-morrow,” and lay down
by the roadside. He watched Julle
skip on through the yellow dust.
The weeds already were growing
tall enough to conceal him where he
lay., A farmer's wagon, crawling out
from town, creaked its unoiled wheels
up the hill. The farmer was asleep on
the high seat. Between the wheels
and through the slowly revolving
spokes, Norman made out a pair of
bare feet running behind the wagon,
The horses came abreast of him,
their driver still sleeping heavlly,
Norman perceived suddenly that the
boy running behind the wagon was
the same Eddie Baker about whom
Julie had jJust been talking. He was
a well-built, shifty-eyed, muscular
youth, a year older than Norman,
two Inches shorter but a good ten
pounds heavier. He had the name of
a ready fighter lin the Madrid Bay
school. Norman knew him to be In
vincible,
The wagon passed while Norman
watched, Before he had time to speak
young Baker twisted about, He
glanced up the road and down it, then
crawled rapidly Into the box of the
wagon. He slid off directly, with two
brown paper parcels in his arms, The
farmer still slept, The thief scampered
to the side of the road seratching hils
short, dusty bare legs In brambles.
As he dropped Into the grass he
saw Norman,
He did not gpeak for a moment,
Then, when he lled, Normun felt for
him an extravagant and pltiless scorn,
“Ie give it to me,” Baker sald sul
lenly.
Norman looked at him, his mild,
sober blond face taking on for a mo
ment a suggestion of pink,
“You swiped it!” Norman sald, He
was not accusing, He was merely
stating a fact In the blunt awkward
winy common to him, His father was
like that In speech, Old Gustaf made
hig statements firmly, as if he did not
expect contradictions,
Eddie Baker looked n little startled
nt the word, But he did not attempt
any further denlal, ile unwrapped the
longer of the two parcels, It con
talned a wooden box of plog tebaceco
senled In red paper, He looked at
Norman diplomatically.
“I'll go hulves on I1t!" he offered,
“You swiped it!" Norman repented,
His volee arose somewhat, but still
it did not Indieate noger,
“l 1 seen you steal,” Baker countered,
“geen you stenl lots of times . , )
“Me?" Normun nsked,
“And 1 can lick you, one hand tled
behind my back "
Norman stood up slowly. He had no
desire to fight. He knew Eddle Bak
er's prowess, But u:- formalities must
be observed. “Try 1t1" he W
(10 BE CONTINUED.) i
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\§ .‘thr *‘R:?“/
L™ R e
SAME PRESCRIPTION
HE WROTE IN 1892
When Dr. Caldwell started to practice
medicine, back in 1875, the needpl for &
laxative were not as great as today.
People lived normal lives, ate plain,
wholesome food, and got fi;lentfi' of fresh
air, But even that early there were
drastic physics and purges for the relief
of constipation which Dr., Caldwell did
not believe were good for human beings.
The prescription for constipation that
he unecr early in his practice, and which
he put in drug stores in 1892 under the
name of Dr. Caldwell’s SByrup Pepsin,
is a liquid vagehablé remedy, intended
for women, children and elderly rople, ¥
and they need just such a mild, safe
bowel stimulant.
This prescription has proven its worth
and is now Ehe largest selling liquid
laxative. It has won the confidence of
I)eoplo who needed it to get relief from
readaches, biliousness, flatulence, indi
gestion, loss of appetite and sleep, bad
breath, dyspepsia, colds, fevers. At your
druggist, or write “S{mp Pepsin,”
Dept, 88, Monticello, Illinois, for free
trial bottle.
You Know A Tonic is Good ‘
when it makes you eat like a
hungry boy and brings back the
color to your cheeks. You can
soon feel the Btrengthening, In
vigorating Effect of GROVE'S
TASTELESS CHILL TONIC,
Pleasant to take. 60c.
Liver Pills
&og:d witl? fow('}emveb.ol:{‘.‘li:’ ‘:!Péiu!gé"lfi?é
TASTELESS ‘CHILL TONIC for those
who wish to take a Laxative in connection
with the Tonic, :
Building “Modern” City
Exemplifying the latest style In
ornament and design, an entire new
city is being constructed n:{r Paris,
All the modern ideas in bulldings are
to be Included, The church is near
ing completion, and it reveals the
modern architectural tendencies, - The
main entrance is behind a single arch
that spans almost the entire width of
the structure. Figures used for dec
oration are very large, and the steeple
is a tapering “shaft of angles.”
Most people never know the sweet
contentment of becoming thoroughly
fatigued.
. y N
Vel AL
" { Al silk stockings treated with
by \ LIFE-O-SBILK will not run and
L will last three times as long!
A\ X Merely dip inte solution and
( dry—-unl{ one treatment re
quired-—harmless to color or
fabrie, Save many dollars by
wearing your silks till they
actually wear out! Send only
ONE DOLLAR for enough LIFE-O-SILK to
prevent runs in 256 pairs of hose or equiva.
lmt amount of lingerie—money back fll you
are not delighted,
LIFE-O-SILK LABORATORIES
388 WILLIAM ST. BUFFALO, N. Y.
For Pleasure, FEdueation and Profit, Most
interesting hobby in the world, The Stamp
Collector's Magnzine, a 6(2-90 page Hlus
trated monthly will help you, 100 all differs
ent forelgn postage stamps FREE to every
one n.-rmh:;“ 26c for a 8 months’ trial sub
seription, mple Copy Free,
. . .
Philatelic Publishing Co., Inc.
18 John St, Dept, A « - New York,
m iy, . P y
fPRACTOR SAWMILLS
B S -
RNy oA RTO P T R U LR S
TL B R R ke A L
5 ahopt Tutnbet (ke sow Je peing Moto siabs furn wms s
?mu‘.n-- T P R L L e iivtld
P U T flqtmu TiT DT RL L S T
wm .r-||.|anHl>¢.b<) SR T AT T R L
u}l AT sLR i s R \4lll P P
URA RSSO e LR
B e B e
" Y
RN e
B 0 Mastodon Strawberry Plants sl, 300, ‘l.
1% Weleh's Concord Grapevines 2 year, §l.
100 asparsgus, 51, 26 Rhubarb, sl. 6 best
bush Roses, 12, llrlrn or Forlv«t Hedging, 100
for 86, 60 Gladiolus, sl, Richmond Cher~
rien, §3. 10 Compans, 82,60, 10 Klofter or Barts
ott Pears, $3. 10 Kiberta Peaches, $2. 10 best
Plums (4 worts), $3, Good 4 ft, branched
trees (prepald), Checks aceoptod, Hatisfao
tion or money back, Wholessle catalog Froe,
WELCH NURBERY, SHENANDOAH, lOWA,
Vor Sale—tovernl farmn, 160 to 1,000 acres
in alluvial belt of Louisiann, near New Ore
feany, suitable to production of sugar ecane,
corn, potatoes, vegetablos, ete. [ lovite eor
respondence. B, Diekinson, CGreenwood
Plantation, Lafourche Parwh, Thibodaus, lA,
SEND NO MONEY! Extra fine eabbage,
onlon or vollard plants snt € O, D, mall
or expresy, 600, Ghes 1,000, §1; 6,000, §4.50,
Weite or wire QUALITY PLANT FARMS.
BOX 343, TIFTON, GEORGIA,
Pigoons, Profitable, pleasant pastime broed
ing plgeons, rlsing squabs, clenn, wgrevable,
Purchred neollmated Houthern Btock, White
Kings, Carneaux, Homers, Free booklet.Old's
fittle Boke Pigeon Plant, Hattleshurg, Miss,
“leosone” Is Ozone Combined With Medi
clun) 011. Quickly relleves colds, Invigorates,
purifies hy restoring olrx«l to Hlood, (,'vp
sulon £1.20 box, Neosons Laboratory Media,Pa,
Stlesmen, No limit to your eurmings, selling
Adurns fiumflu Auto u,m. sticks any
where, Exp. unhecessary, ull ar part time,
Adums Merchand’e Co., Ine., Willlamsport, s,
i
White Real Est, Broker doslros Ist mor(::r
funds on colored homes, churches and 1)
tn Philadeiphin, Title lon, with ea. mort, free,
W, Gretginger, 6109 N, 16th #t, Phiis, Ps
FANN MONEY IN YOUR SPARE I‘ly
doing pleasant \vork{vwo MI 10 onch for ad
dromhll‘ vlwnlifip“. rite AWTHUR BALES
CO,, 05 FIFIH AVE, NEW YORK,
et e s et a——
» ‘lc'lle 'filll IAIIII"I'I 00l
o rupply wtock, eatalog, eontract,
100; big profits, l'ounr Vur l‘nn.(}nlly.flx
e —————— A
rren OYT VTSN sy
e [ s
supply 2be (n&). hg
‘W. N. U, A, NO. 49.1928,