Newspaper Page Text
.. The Marked Man..
A Romance of the Great Lakes
i By KARL W. DETZER G
THE STORY
From his French-Canadian
mother, Norman Erickson inherits
a distaste for life on the water,
which is beyond the understand
ing of his father, Gustaf, veteran
deep-water sailor. At Mrs, Er
ickson's death Gustaf determines
to make Norman, who has been
working for a grocer, his partner
in his fishing boat at once,
CHAPTER I—Continued
T
Young Baker put down his two pil
fered bundles carefully in the grass.
Both boys circled once. Eddie struck
first. Norman replied, toc high. Eddie
hit again. His hard swift fists caught
Norman in the teeth. It was a one
sided combat after that though Nor
man tried desperately not to let it be
80. Blood ran from his nose into his
panting mouth. He dropped to his
knees and Baker kicked him twice.
The victor returned to the roadside,
spit disdainfully into the dust and
once more began to examine his to
bacco box.
“T'l do it again,” he warned, “afore
the girls next time, if you dare
squeal!” He tucked the bundles un
fer his arm. “Hear me? Just go tell
teacher. 1 dare you! Double dare
youn!”
Again he spit disdainfully, He
turned his back as if this controversy
had scarcely been worth his while,
and whistling through his teeth, moved
by a wide detour toward the town.
Norman’s head ached. His eyes were
swelling. His throat burned. His
lungs strained, his heart thrashed in
his thin chest. Miserable and 1l at
ease. he watched Baker disappear into
the woods north of Madrid Bay.
It did not occur to him to return to
the village and tell the story. A juve
nile shame restrained him. He had
taken his, beating. That was bad
enough without having anyone else
know it. Irrelevantly his mind re
turned to Julie Richaud. What would
she think of him now? He arrived
home late for supper, and said nothing
, Of the afternoon affairs.
He never mentioned Eddie Baker's
thievery to anyone. But he, began to
play less and less with B&er about
the school yard. An enmity grew be
tween them, born of a guilty secret
which both boys had reason to keep.
Baker had “gone partners” with his
stepfather when he was eighteen. He
labored with stout endurance in their
leaking smelly boat. Norman saw him
often, perhaps an average of once
a day lhrough the year. They spoke
to each other with an air of casual
disinterest. But it seemed to Norman
that Ed . . . he had outgrown the
name of Eddie . . . was showing
a certain bravado in his presence of
late.
Norman envied him his assurance,
It was so much like his own father’s.
Once or twice he tried to speak to
‘ )
. \ 7
re oy 3 4", .
L op e %42 giy;g :
%:’ r=q_ N }l"l{',
SR AT 0
L e e
~ &“‘\ ‘:1
. LM
0 \ e
N e b 3
& N\
! 3 ' - ,'
‘ b gk
lf{’ /”' ’, v‘,
s 2 ; //
£ , % €29
oy
% >
it Was a One. Sided Combat After
That, Though Norman Tried Des.
perately Not to Let It Be So.
Julle, thinking that she might under
stand. but he never got farther than
a word or two, , ; -
He could talk to Julfe, though, about
most things. She'd listen, She wasn't
g 0 set on his agreeing with her as the
rest of the world. He rose briskly
from the roadside and stretched his
legs. Yes, he'd talk to Julle. Not til
this minute had he known where e
wanted to go this afternoon. 1t was
the Richnuds whom he ueeded to see.
It was becnuse he was thinking un
consclously of Julle that ‘be bad
climbed this hill In the first _place,
because of her that be remembered the
old fight with Eddie Bakpr, Of course!
He'd go td the Richauds.
He ctepped out rapldly through the
woods to the shore of little Ottowa
jake. This was the rond he followed
dally with Hans Miller's delivery
wagon.
fe left the maln road at the next
mail box and entered a lane bordered
by a pair of snake fences with berry
bushes in their angles. At the end
of this lane a low plaster house, its
roof shining with onew shingles,
stretched along the brow of a hill
Somehow the Richaud house reminded
Norman of tl,e place that formerly be
longed to his excitable French grand
father. : -
Norman never had felt at home at”
his grandfather’s. Even now as.:lie
stalked up the path that ‘same.sefise
of loneliness seized him, the-loneli
ness of a person accustomed to wide
wet ‘horizons when his vision s
cramped by hills. AL old man was
pumping water at the barnyard -well.
He was short and dark, with cheek§
as red as app'es. :
““Allo!” he criec He almost ran
toward Norman, his short legs pound
ing rapidly, water from the pail splash
ing up the dust. “Glad to see you,
Norman boy! What you do out heré?
Quick, go in! I get chores out the
way. Rain tonight!” He pounded dn
toward the barn. e S -
“Julie . . .” Norman began. ‘
“Julie’s working,”. .the ‘old~, man
shouted back vigorously. “"Allo! Julie! ‘
Come see what the good saints brought
you!” e h
Julie Richaud “looked up startled
from the apronful of, peas she. was
sheJling on the back steps.
“Norman!” Julie cried. :
" She stood up quickly, forgetting the
peas that slid from her apron., She
seemed embarrassed” for a moment
She did not speak. Only her eyes
moved, absorbing him, "
Norman never heard gayone describe
Julie's eyes. But he knew exactly
what they were like “from long ad
miration of them. They were large,
dark, yet not black, and they gave the
impression of changing color the long
er one ‘looked into them.
She had changed appreciably. since
their days in the Madrid school.” She
was not so tall as he, but even he
realized that her figure was moré ma
ture. Her shoulders were as wide as
they would ever be, her breast as
round. When she teaned forward these
was grace lhth!insh.nt.na::m
which was brown, but very. sl nq‘r.:;
A painter ‘would have said Julie's
mouth.: wi§: splendid, a little broad.
with character there.:. A sculptor
would have mentioned her nose first,
for it was generous, full at the nostril
and straight of bridge, a.nose’spited
to marble . . . but he woq]’&%ave
found her mouth difficult, and prob:
ably have made it pout, which it never
did. i
“Norman,” she was saying, “Nor
man, T'm sotry ', ahpgt"f&our
mother, 1 mean. So sorryl” =
She descended the steps slowly. Her
voice was liquid, with a Latin flexi;
bility, smooth. as the music of Lake
Michigan op a.quiet day. She looked
up soberly at Norman‘when she stood
in front of him, her head tipped back
ward. Lo '
“l could not go-to the funeral,” she
said. “My mother went. | had to
stay with the children.” |
Norman took off his hat. His long
blond hair rumpled in the wind. He
could not upenl‘« for a, moment, and
then he simply said: “That’s all right,
Julie,” and again stood silent,
Julie Richand looked at him keenly.
Hans Millgw's ,wagon duver “baffled
her since he was grown up.
“Sit down,'Norman,” she - directed,
“on the step here, out of the wind. |
It's blowing harder every minute.”
Again she studied him. “There's some
thing worrying you. What is it . . .
pesides your mother?” ‘
“Nothing much,” Norman answered.
“1 just walked out. | wanted to (hink.
and came farther than | meant. |’
was here hefore | knew it."
Julle godded. She knew* why Ror.
man had come. It nnt'erea,,n.Ju._
wanted to see her for no redson In
particular, Fral L
“You think we'll get a storm?’ ghe
asked cheerilv. “We need ~au. DIO"
you notice it coming up? Everything
so dry!” o X, %y
Norman looßed"n amng warlly
in the samé wayrfigather did. Clouds
marched up, the; sky, lack battalion
with é:‘l‘nrdfee:lflu"& fresher winds,
Lightning rasped out of the north,
It eame without warnipg, sudden
sheets from the heart of a somber
bank, beating spitefully on the earth.
Julle Richaud shivered, )
“1 don't like 1t!" she sald. “Light.
ning, clouds, storms ~ . . 1 always
want to ery” ?
Norman stammered. *1 don't ke
it elther. It's a funny thing, Julle
-
“What?"
He plunged recklessly,
, “The way my father likes bad
wenther, wiry my mother dldn't. She
used to tell me how It thundered
worse than the crock of doom the
wght | was born” < B
. “Are you afrald of storms?” sbe
asked, :
“No!" Norman protested, - Then’:
“I'm not sure, Julle, I've never been
out in a bad blow) " »
Julle leaned forward swiftly and
put both hands on Norman's knees.
“Listen, Norman,"” she sald, “it's
all right to tell me that. ‘But don't
tell anybody else. Other folks might
not understand it the way I do, Nor
man. You're not afraid of storms. You
may think you are, but you're not.
You're just afraid you might be. Your
mother wasn't scared. Not really.
Why'd she marry a sailor if she was?”
Norman was silent. He couldn't an
swer that. He'd often wondered him
self why his mother had married a
sailor, wondered at least why she mar
died old Gustaf, .
" Julie arose briskly.
' “Come,” she: bade,” “it's raining.
Let's go inside.”. ]
It was pleasant.in, the Richaud liv
ing room. -Rain thumped down upon
the hard &?w shingles of the roof,
making a Hollow, humming sound, un
like the dull beat of 'storms against
the heavily beamed hoéuse of the Er
icksons on the beach. In all way: the
room was unliké "his father's kitcken.
He knew his mother would have found
it much more friendly here than in
the stiff seamanly house she had kept
for Gustaf @il thosc years.
, Germalne:dripped in from the chores
at five o'clock: The rain still pounded
against , the roof with a gusty wind
thrashing after fit.
“Come . . . sausages for sup
per!” Germaine insisted. *“Sure Nor
man will stay We fix your place!”
It was dark wheén Norman started
back to town*but the rain had stopped
and thé wind fallen with it. He
walked slowly, as if anchors dragged
at his iegs. Why had he come uap to
the Richaud farm? He had meant to
bé bold, to tel! Julie Richaud that he
was leaving Madrid, going as far away
inland as his feet would take him, to
some place where he never need lie
awake through another hideous night
with the drum of surf spelling out
ghastly - stories in his sleepless ears.
He had been afraid to tell her that.
She would not have believed him. Nor
had he.;mentioned his father’s plans
for him in the fishing fleet.
He strode on. Below :the hills,
above thé talkative wash, the town of
Madrid Bay huddled againgt its dunes,
showing a .sad sprinkle .of dimly
lighted windows and misshapen blots
of luminous reflection on wet roofs.
Fhe . street was deserted. Only the
poo! hall blazed wuagnificently.
Pug Downey, its ocwner stood on the
poréh, spitting enormously, his wooden
leg propping open the screen door.
He waved his arms excitedly when
he saw MNorman, snd immediately
hobbled back into his establishment.
Norman ‘approached. The rooom was
silent as he opened the door. A
crowd of fishermen pressed together
in the back es the room,
“Here he is!” Pug Downey cried im
portantly. T, ¢
“Come here, you, Norman,” three
men called out together.
Upon the bar stretched Gustat Er
ickson. His gray hair lay in tlxln wet
strings across his forehead. His eyes
were closed, llps battened tight, bis
theeks whiter thdn Norman had ever
seen apy man's,
“He ain't dead yet,” Puz Downey
said.
. “What happened?” Norman demand
ed. ‘
No one answered. A quick hot tin
gle ran over his scalp. A man gripped
his arm, It was Jim Nelson, an old
sea matg of Gustaf.
“Where “iyou, been?” Nelson asked.
“Come heré™: .He pushed Norman
ahead through, the crowd. “Sure we've
call’t the doctor. McCarthy from Cop
perhead. We've give Gus a shot or
two of stuff, so's to hold him out
McCarthy ought to be here by now.
Where you been?”
His volce was accusing. Norman
stared bewilderingly at the old man's
grintfßter face and did uot answer.
Nelson had salled’salt water with Gus
taf Erickson when both were young.
The chance that follows the seas had
flung, them together in Madrid.
“Battle Ax mail boat put out just
afore dark, 'bout sundown,” Nelson
sald. ®Couple of ladies wanted (o go
along across with Lem Hardy. Too
much weather, he says. Told 'em he'd
¢ome back and get 'em tomorrow. He
Just puts off when the thunder and
Hghtning tets go. Where you at, you
didn't bear the thundér?”
“I heard It,” sald Norman,
“Well the lightning hits the mall
boat. She wasu't fifty fathom off the
end of Itnp crib. Sets her afire, Gus
o Wfiponr paw ~ . . Ue's down
at the tish ’l‘!lCl. tendin’ some gear
or other. Th Y Wis a 4 mean sean run
nin’, Lem Hardy ought to knowed
better than go out hisself, Well, he
didn't know better,” ]
“My father . & , 7" Norman be
gun, ’
“Never wulted a minute,” Nelgon
sald. “Casts off alone soon's he sees
::; fire. He ought to have knowed bet.
VIOO, Lem's bont rammed agnlost
the cedar poles In that old break:
water south of the harbor. Your paw
carrled & line over, but the sea's run
nin' 80 dirty he ean't hold the two
boats together, We was all down shore
by thut time. We see Gus duck into
Lem's cabln once. Thut mall bont
purmt hard 1 tell “ye! We see from
here be could never get Lem out
I told you it wus & mean sea? Well,
I guess Gus saw it was no use, couldn't
get throug « the fire, fe'd give It up
and was tryln' to get back on hig
CHARITON COITNTY HRERAT N
own boat when the two of them pulled
apart and he goes down a-tween 'em.
They was smashin’ together right
hard.”
Nelson wiped his lipe with the “acl:
of his hand. The dying wind hooted
outside. Norman shuddered.
“Sea w: hed him in about where
that old pier used to run out,” Nelson
sald bluntly. “Some of the boys brung
In his boat knowed your paw wouldn't
want that boat to break up. He's got
a busted leg and back, I figzer. Least
somethin’s wrong with his back. We
can't get no sense o' what he says.
Lem Hardy? Lor’, he went down with
the mail boat! We sent for the coast
guard from Blind Man’s point, wanted
to make it regular and all, Tele
phoned right off for McCarthy.”
Doctor McCarthy, fat, middle-aged
and undisturbed, arived at the pool
room in thirty more minutes. The men
stopped their talking. The ' doctor’s
face became severe,
“Open tnose windows, Downey, all
of them. Get outside, you fellows.
Two of you stay. What's the matter
with you, lad?” he swung critically on
Norman. “Why you so white? This
ish't your funeral! Your father? This
your father? Take him along,” he bade
Jim Nelson, “get home and fix a bed.
Have it warm. Take some stones, so
big, heat 'em hot and wrap 'em up in
paper.”
Norman scuffed blindly out of the
poolroom, stepping twice on Jim Nel
son's boot heels,
“Good man, your paw,” Nelson sald
awkwardly. “There’'s a real sailor!
Tellin’ me today you're goin’ partners
in the fish boat with him!”
Norman mumbled, “Think his back’s
broke?” he asked.
“Looks like 1t to me,” answered
Jim Nelson. “Ought to knowed better'n
to go out alone in such a dirty sea.”
Fishermen brought Gustaf Erickson
home on a shutter after a long hour.
He was breathing better, Norman
thought.
“Left thigh is fractured and his
right shoulder blade,” Dector Me-
Carthy said. “There’s a bad concus
sica . . . bump on the head, that
is. 1 need'some hot water.”
“Is he like to pull out?” asked Nor
man,
“Oh, yes, I reckon so. Pretty tough
wood, you fishermen. Can't kill you
off. No way except drowning.” He
arranged the hot stones in the bed.
“Of course, 1 wouldn't say he'll be
wround tomorrow. Stay in bed all
fall and winter, I suspect. Won't ever
work again.”
CHAPTER 11
A Hard Skipper
Winter whipped down early on the
upper lakes and Gustaf Erickson still
stayed abed. His grim spirit took on
harsher irritability the longer he lay
an invalid. He bullied Norman and
his shipmate Nelson, screamed out the
old, bitter, forgotten übuse with which
he once had driven his schooner erews,
Norman was a clumsy nurse. He un
derstood dimly the anguish Gustaf
suffered. It was unbefitting that a man
of his frame should lle abed. The
kind of religion that Gustaf esteemed
made provision for a self-respecting
seaman to die afloat,
It was not untll April, with the ice
kicking to pieces on the shore and hun
gry gulls sailing over the fishing town,
that Gustaf Erickson took his first
Bird Dog’s Delicacy of Scent Remarkable
The delicncy of a dog's nose—his
ability to sift and define scents of in
finite kinds—to locate birds for the
gunner, or follow faint tralls of game,
is one of nature’s most amazing mir
acles,
~ High up In the lst of dellcate dog
noses aré those possessed by the
“bird dogs”—the setter nnd polinter,
A pointer, from one whiff of the
trall of a quall, can tell many things
about that particulat bird, no mat.
ter how many chickens, ducks and
geese have crossed his path,
He knows, for instance, whether
it is nlone or there nre other quall
with 1. There Ix good evidence that
he notes a difference between the
body-scent and the foot-scent of the
bird, because with only a breath of
hreeze In his favor, he can locate in
the brush, many paces from him, an
unseen quall that has walked or
flown Into cover 1o windward of him,
Moreover, If he strikes the trall of
it ——
Food Requisites
The most importunt mineral sub
stance required in food ure the salts
of iron, lodine, phosphorus, ealelum
(lime), manganese, potash, and sodn.
fron 18 required for the blood. The
red coloring matter, lnrgely composed
of iron contained In the red cor
puscles, carries the oxygen taken In
by the lungs all over the body,
Aged Criticism
mmgaam and Rve,
the easiest to do bas been to
criticize young folks.—Atchison Globe.
cautious step. He hnd wasted during
the winter. He coughed incessantly,
snarled, did not reply when spoken to,
but sat moodily for "hours, staring
thirstily at the lake, swearing black
oaths if anyone disturbed him,
Each day, at length every hour of
each day, he talked of the new fishing
season, He found ecstatic delight in
grumbling to Norman of work to be
done upon the boat, of nets to be re
paired, lines to be spliced, of the thou
sand small tasks that usher in spring
labor on the fishing coast. Norman
himself became taciturn, Arter all,
what difference did anything make?
He had tied his mind into knots try
ing to think out his problems. He
was going to fish, was he? Well, all
right. He'd fish.
On the first day of May, Gustat
walked down the planks to the fish
shanties and leaned on a cedar stick
while he discovered mean chores for
his son. Norman performed them,
streaming with sweat. He objected to
none of them. They were only hard
work, scraping ribs, daubing on tar,
patching, painting. He could see that
it was a good boat; a wet one, but
it had goed planks and a good engine.
He overhauled it thoroughly in the im
pulse of despair, laboring till his back
ached. ! .
“Next week,” Gustaf croaked daily
‘““bout next week we'll set them nets
I''l make a man out'n you!l” ;
Ed Baker, whose shack huddled
next to old Gustaf's, stcpped often
in the Erickson doorway on his way
to and from town, He had little t¢
say to Norman, Always a frosty re
o
Qb sy
——— “
Wé
:“§§ S
:/‘ s i‘y
- 7 ]
:( B:% L
-fi‘.\\/; L=T ‘{/- 3'!.
%1’ E \\}\“.f' E L] ,!-—
o e 7\;
]' R lho
§ Y el "
] W= -
| [ ASEREENL S T
4 Ve
é (5
e »}1 }
He Waved His Arms Excitedly When
He Saw Norman.
straint kept the two apart. Neither
could forget the day upon the road
when they were boys, when young Ed
revealed himself a thief and Norman
took his thrashing, But the fiat-faced,
thick-shouldered Baker talked inter- |
minably with Gustaf. ‘A young fisher- |
man could learn many. worth-while de
talls of his trade from the elder Erick- '
son.
“There's a neat lad,” Gustaf would
say when Baker had gone, “If you
had some of bhis stuff in you . . ."
Then one morning . . . ‘lt was
the last week Ih May . . . Gus
taf sald: “Go crank the engine. We
set nets today”
Norman glanced at the calm lake,
then at his father’'s wasted figure.
Gustaf’'s hunds trembled over the line. '
he was untangling. He had refused
his breakfast that morning, had stag
gered as he walked down the wharf.
“We best walt till tomorrow,” Nor- |
man sald.
“Walt?
“You walt,” Norman amended. *“I'l
go today. Nelson can show me how
s "
(TO BE CONTINUED.,)
a walking bird, he knows which way
it Is moving and never makes the
mistake of taking Its back track, ]
His nose tells him, at a distance,
whether his master has merely
wounded or killed the bird ountright.
It the latter, he goes forward with.
out hesitagion and retrieves the quall,
It wounded, he continues to point
rigldly or pdvances at command untl)
the bird agaln goes up=lf It can,
Settled Legal Quibble
Bome yeurs ngo an AmeMcan dled,
lenving part of his estate. to angther
to enjoy while he Mved, with the
privilege of devislpg It at his death to
others whom be nilzht select undor hin
“hand and senl” A document was exe
cuted so devising the property, bt i
was contested by others clulming the
property on the ground thwt the paper
contnined no senl after the signature
and that the devise was therefore
vold,
A wise Judge, after a close seruting
of the signature and a patient listen.
Ing to the arguments of counsel, de
cided that at the end of the signature
there waos an extra seroll or flourish
made with the pen with which the
signuture was made, and that this
wus suffclent In lnw %o constitute &
' Perseverance
¢« “Perseverance Is admirable” sald
Hi Ho, the sage of Chinatown, “but
It by chanee you are in the wrong,
it only leads you farther astray,e
Washington Star,
Dr.Hartrjr}an
Said g GRS
S
R
Fight Off
INDIGESTION:
and Mr. Powell
i
sayss: T
*“I AM a circus clown
and about two Ycars oy
ago began to have e l
severe attacks of in- ?“
digestion—l thought - P )
1 would have to give A
up. I lost weight and my appetite was
bad.” (Anyone who has suffered
attacks ojy indigestion can under=
ata?d Just how Mr. Powelll\‘felt.g
*A friend told me about PE-RU-NA, so
. bought a bottle and started taking it. I
have now taken three bottles. My health
is restored and my work a gleasure."
(For over 50 years, PE-RU-NA has
been the key to a renewed health
and vitality for hundreds o{ thou
sands.) “‘An carnest desire tohelp others
prompts me to make this statement.”
(Signed) Albert Powell, Louisville, Ky.
}A PE-RU-NA user is always a PE-RU-NA
riend—thousands recommendit toothers.
All druggists have it; get a bottle today.)
Use Hanford's Balsam of Myrrh
Money back for first bottle if not suited. All dealers,
Stop your suffering—use
"‘i.‘\'_ | P Hl;m’:
s o \ PONHIERT S
[ Juh\ oS A Guaranteed
O :ii;nnfinnto;’d ?;—u cdtizro {_Q.I-hlnc. Bleeding,
}E\ o fq;\do((l,.l. (‘.':; tlm';\gnnf;;.h(l,;om:rt’h,p“;
A pipe, 76¢; or the tin box, 60, Ask for
& DPAZO OINTMENT
Grove’s
Tasteless
Chill Tonic
A Bodg Builder for Pale, Deli
ff:.fuhf‘“%‘.’fé‘rgg”fi%"%ii;
gtc‘g;; rl{e_ Blood. Ix:np‘zi'ofz
the gggf,xte. Pleasant to
take.
I@ PARKER’S
o HAIR BALSAM
‘\r—:,\—}’ RemovesDandruff-StopsHairFalling]
,\..‘\k\ ; Restores Color and
N Beauty to Gray and Faded Hai
L ~.‘) p 60c. and §I.OO at Druggists,
) ) 4 d Hizcox Chem, Wks, Patehoeue, N, Y,
FLORESTON SHAMPOO-Ideal for use in
connection with Parker’'s Hair Balsam. Makes the
hair soft and fluffy. 60 cents by mail or at druy
gists. liscox Chemical Works, Patchogue, N. r
Caricature Handkerchief
London women have a new fad rt
is caricature handkerchiefs, They are
large and somewhat crudely colored,
and lin one corner is a stenclled copy
of a famous picture. Smart dressers
are going farther, however, by having
a sketch or caricature of themselves
substituted for the picture. .
Had a Profession
Dentist—Open your mouth wide
and I won't hurt you a bit. ‘
Patient (a few minutes later)—Now
I know what Ananias did for a llving.
~Boston Post,
e S S —————
MEDITERRANEAN (ruise
:l:’ ;f'l';::uylunh" sailing Jan, l"
ks Fmrurs o iee sy
o, A e,
Riviera, @ varbours. (Faris), - Taclodes howl
ides, motors, ete,
‘:-—-mmdlmuu-
FRANK C.CLARK, Times Bldg.,N.Y.
i 0 RBBBT N B P
’ ' . + 5 | ']
' t: L . m‘
X A
' 4 ; | .
RIS AR T TR
Learn to D e
arn 10 Dance pome!
New Original Truehart Home-gtudy Method
teaches latest Ballroom Bteps and VProfes
slonal Dancing In few eany lossons right 'n
your own home, Develops grace, charm and
porfect form, Credits accepteod by leading
Dance Studion, Write for VREN descriptive
folder TODAY
TRUEHART EAST COANT DISTRIBUTORS
AO7 N S, KW, Dept, 54, Washington, D, €,
‘SO Monumént 1 17
sz
e u.:u.- n-..m mmnm:u GHORGIA
e " A 1 LT
BENTL, NO MONEY! Extra fine eabbage,
onlon of collnrd plants sent C, O, D, mn‘i
or express, ,00. She; 1,000, §l3 5,000, £4.60,
Write or wire QUALITY PLANT VFVARMS,
BOX MO, TIFTON, GEORGIA,
Afm-. Men and Women to sell nationally
ndvertised Jowelry, sliverware, Execlusive ter
mow Write, KRANDLE, ROTHFELD €O,
15 . 47th ML, New York City,
Salesmen, No limit to your earnings, selling
Adams Magnetle Am’ l-:pbl. stioks any:
where, m nnm-c-«nr{. ull ar part tine
Adums hand'e Co,, Ine, Willimmsport, Pa.
A Knwsas Oty Manufacturer Has Vrofitable
b ek sy, ey Topons, W
r b A
u’u Manager, 808 Linwood, ‘nw City, Mo,
“Rewons” ls osone m‘;;:;-dflqi
':& %uwu{ mfi-vn onma.l ln;lnon\u. puris
reste Ry o !-01. 2
s 'lm:. n-on.ono muury. o&?fl. h
l.l:nt; Pureh a_.-m,m pald for
"Tibrnrien, -\uda wots mmllcno? ho%n.
List books, their bindiug and condition, M.
Valrburg, 590 Droadway, New York City,
RAINE FUR RABBITS, Wo ntoek,
uul-% contraot, all g "“‘.‘E'H"‘
POUND FUK FARM, THAY,