Books published by publisher Cope Press

The Cattle-Baron's Daughter - BY HAROLD BINDLOSS - THE hot weather had come suddenly, at least a month earlier than usual, and New York lay baking under a smrching sun when Miss Hetty Torrance sat in the coolest corner of the Grand Central Depot she could find. It was by her own wish she had spent the afternoon in the city unattended, for Miss Torrance was a self-reliant young woman but it was fate and the irregularity of the little gold watch, which had been her dead mothers gift, that brought her to the depot at least a quarter of an hour too soon. But she was not wholly sorry, for she had desired more solitude and time for reflection than she found in the noisy city, where a visit to an eminent modiste had occupied most of her leisure. There was, she had reasons for surmising, a decision of some moment to be made that night, and as yet she was no nearer arriv- ing at it than she had been when the little note then in her pocket had been handed her. Still, it was not the note she took out when she found a seat apart from the hurrying crowd, but a letter from her father, Torrance, the Cattle-Baron, of Cedar Range. It was terse and to the point, as usual, and a little smile Crept into the girls face as she read. Your letter to hand, and so long as you have a good time dont worry about the bills. ,Youll find another five hundred dollars at the bank when you want them. Thank God, I can give my daughter what her mother should have had. Two years since Ive seen my little girl, and now it seems that somebody else is wanting her Well, rve were made men and women, and if you had been meant to live alone dabbling in music you wouldnt have been given ycus mothers face. Now, I dont often express myself this way, but Ive had a letter from Captain yaekson Cejmr, U. S. Cavalry, which reads...........

IN NATURES GARDEN THE MOUNTAINEER first saw the light of day in a deep ravine, far from the haunts of man, from under an overhanging rock, where his mother had made for herself and him a soft couch of earth which she had scooped up with her sharp forefeet. It was an awfull day on which to come into the world. A terrific gale tore through the trees on all sides, bending the feathery tops of the pines to breaking point the rain came down in sheets, and vivid flashes of lightning were followed by terrifying peals of thunder, which reverberated among the cliffs and echoed and re-echoed in all their awe-inspiring wonder, as though each succeeding peal was intended to strike terror into the hearts of every living thing upon those mountain ranges. The lahr, however, paid little heed to the elements, for were they not, one and all, accustomed to the storms that howl round their mountain fastnesses from babyhood Tenifying though it was to the little one, it was nothing to those more advanced in age, who had taken cover from many even worse during the winter months. The little mother sat unmovable, shielding her newly born kid from the gale with her body, and occasionally licking him with her warm tongue. A small herd of does with two young bucks took shelter from the rain and wind in a miniature cave in the cliffs a little further down, and the little mother had every confidence in the all-seeing eyes of the sentry and her own nose to give her timely warning of danger. The storm passed almost as suddenly as it had come, and the herd left the cliffs to browse on the newly sprouting grasses among the trees in the ravine, but the mother sat on with her kid, only leaving him for a few minutes to pick up a few mouthfuls which grew from the ledge of rock immediately below her. In a couple of days the little kid was able to .....