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A NOVEL DEALING "WITH COTEMFORAKY LIFE.
WRITTEN FOE THE DISPATCH.
BY WILLIAM BLACK,
Author,of "A Princess of Thule," "Sunrise," and Many Other
Stories of the Highest Meputation on Ttao Continents.
CHAPXEE XXIY.
KETT WAYS OP LIFE.
Bat no soonerhad he torn open the en
velope than his heart seemed to stand still
with a sort of fear and amazement. For
this was Maisrie's own handwriting that he
beheld as startlintr a thing as if she herself
had suddenly appeared bclore him, after these
long, voiceless months. Be sure the worthy
banker's accompanying letter did not win
much regard; it was this sheet of thin blue
paper that he quickly unfolded, his eye
catching a sentence here and there, and
eager to grasp all that she hat to say at
once. Alas! there was no need for any
such haste; when he came to read this
message that she had sent to
Toronto, it had little to tell him ot that
which he most wanted to know. And yet it
was a marvelous thing to hear her speak,
as it were! There was no date nor place
mentioned in the letter; but none the less
had this actual thing come all the way from
her; her fingers had penned these lines; she
had folded up this sheet of paper that now
lay in his hands. It appeared to have been
written on board ship; further than that all
was uncertain and unknown.
He went into the library, and sought out
a quiet corner; there was something in the
strange reticenceof this communication that
he wished to study with care. And yet
there was an apparent simplicity, too. She
began by telling Air. Thompson that her
grandfather had asked her to write to him,
merely to recall both of them to his memory;
and she wenton to say that they often talked
of him and thought of him, and of bygone
djys in Toronto.
"Whether we shall ever surprise you by
an unexpected visit in Yonge street," she
proceeded, "I cannot tell; iorgrandtather's
plans seem to be very vague at present and,
in fdet, I do not think he likes to be ques
tioned. But as far as I can judge he does
not enjoy traveling as much as he used; it
appears to fatigue him more than formerly;
and from my heart I wish he would settle
down in some quiet place, and let me care
for him better than I can do iu long voyages
and railway journeys. You know what a
brave face he puts on everything and, ip
deed, becomes a little impatient if you
show auy anxiety on his behalf; still,
I can &ee he is not what he was;
and 1 think he should rest now. "Why not
in his own couutrv? that has been his talk
lor nianv a day; but I suppose he considers
me quite a child yet, and won't confide in
me; &o that when I try to persuade him that
we should go to Scotland, and settle down
to a quiet life in some place familiar to him,
he grows quite angry, and telis me I don't
understand such tilings. But I know his
own fancy goes that way. The other morn
ing I was reading to him on deck, and
somehow I got to think he was not listening;
so I raised uiy head; and I saw there were
tears running down his cheeks he did not
seem to know I was there at all and I
heard him say to himself 'The beech woods
of Balloray one look at them before I
die!' And now I never read to him any of
the Scotch songs that mention places such
as Yarrow, or Craigiebnrn, or Xiogan Braes
he becomes so strangely agitated; for some
time afterward he walks up and down, by
himself, repeating the word, as if he saw
the place before him, and I know that he is
constantly thinking about Scotland, but
won't acknowledge it to me or anyone.
"Then here is another piece ot news
which is all the news one can 'send from on
board a ship; and it is that poor dear grand
lather has grown very peremptory! Can you
believe it? Can vou imagine him irritable
'and impatient? You know how he has al
ways scorned to be vexed about trifles; how
he could always escape lrom everyday an
noyances and exasperations into his own
dream-world, but of late it has been quite
iiflereni; and as I am constantly with him,
lam the chief suflerer. Of course I don't
mind it, not in the least, if I minded it I
wouldn't mention it, you may be sure; I
know what his heart really feels toward me.
Indeed, it amuses me a little; it is as if I
had grown a child again, it is 'Do this' and
Do that' and no reason given. Ah, well,
there is not much amusement for either of
us two; it is something."
And here she went ou to speak of certain
common Iriends in Toronto, to whom she
wished to be remembered, finally winding
up with a very pretty message iroui "Yours
affectionately, Margaret Betnune."
Then Vincent bethought him of the
banker; what comments had he to make?
"Dear sir, I enclose you a letter, received
to-day, from the pernicious little Omahussy,
who says neither where she is nor where she
is going, gives no date nor the name of the
ship from which she writes, and is altogether
a vexatious young witch. But I imagine
this may be the old gentleman's doing; he
may have been 'peremptory' in his instruc
tions; otherwise I cannot understand why
she should conceal anything from me. And
why should he? There also I am in the
dark; unless, indeed (supposing him to
have some wish to keep their whereabouts
unknown to you) he may have seen an an
nouncement in the papers to the effect that
you were going to the United States and
Canada, in which case he may have guessed
that you would probably call on one whose
name they had mentioned to you as a fnend
ot theirs And not a bad guess either;
George Bethune is long-headed when he
comes down from the clouds; though why
he should take such elaborate precautions
to keep away from you, I cannot surmise."
Vincent knew only too well! The banker
proceeded:
"I confess I am disappointed for the
moment. I took it for granted you would
have no difficulty in discovering where they
were; but, of course, if friend George Is not
going to give his address to anybody, for
tear of their communicating with you, some
time may elapse before you hear anything
definite. However, there is this to be said:
I gather from Margaret's letter that tier
grandfather has at last got a little tired of
traveling, and may be willing to settle down
in some quiet place for good. But I think
she mistakes in imagining that he would go
to Scotland. Scotland would be a lonely
couctrr for George Bethune now. I should
say that nearly all the friends he has living
are on this side; and if he wished to pitch
his tent anywhere, I shouldn't be surprised
if he chose Toronto. One might be on the
look-out if it were possible to know
whether they were going east or west when
Margaret's letter was posted. I forgot to
mention that the postmark on the envelope
was Port Said "
Port Saidl Had Maisrie been at Port
Said and not so long ago either? Instantly
there sprang into the young man's mind a
vision of the place as he remembered it a
poor enough place, no doubt, but now all
lit up by this new and vivid interest: he
could see before him the rectangular streets
of pink and white shanties, the sandv roads
and arid squares, the swarthy AraSs and
yellow Greeks and Italians, the busy quays
and repairing yards and docks, the green
water and the swarming boats. And did
Maisrie and her grandfather while the
great vessel was getting in hercoals, and
the air was being filled with an almost im
perceptibU black dust did thev escape
down the gangway and go ash'ore and
' wander about, looking at the strange cos-
turns and the sanblinds and the half-burst
TOB f AJT,
tropical vegetation? Mr. Thompson went
on to say that he himself had never been to
Port Said; but he gusssed that it was more
a calling-place for steamers than a pleasure
or health resort; and no doubt the Bethunes
Had merely posted their letters there en
route. But were they bound east or west?
There was no answer to this question for
they had not given the name ot their ship.
So the wild hopes that had arisen in Vin
cent's breast when he caught sight of Mais
rie's handwriting had all subsided again;
and the world was as vague and as empty as
before. Sometimes he tried to imagine that
the big steamer which he pictured to himself
as lving in the harbor at Port Said was
homeward bound; and that, consequently,
even now old George Bethune and his
granddaughter might have returned to their
own country; and then again something
told him that it was useless to search papers
for lists of passengers that the unknown
ship had gone away down the Bed Sea and
out to Australia or New Zealand, or per
haps had struck north toward Canton or
Shanghai. He could only wait and watch
and he had a sandal-wood necklace when
he wished to dream.
But the truth is he had very little time for
dreaming; for Vin Harris was now become
one of the very busiest of the millions of
busy creatures crowding this London town.
He "knew his best distraction lay that way;
but there were other reasons urging him on.
As it chanced, the great statesman who had
always been Vincent's especial friend and
patron, finding that his private secretary
wished to leave him, decided to put the
office in commission; that is to say, he pro
posed to have two private secretaries, the
one to look after his own immediate affairs
and correspondence, the other to serve as
his "devil," so to speak, in political mat
ters; and the latter post he offered to Vin
cent, he having the excentional qualifica
tions of being a member of the House. It is
not to be supposed that the ex-Mimster was
influenced in his choice by the fact that the
young man was now on the staff of two im
portant papers, one a daily journal, the
other a weekly; for such mundane con
siderations do not enter the sub
lime sphere of politics; nor, on
the other hand, is it to be
imagined that Vin Harris accepted the offer
with all the more alacrity that bis hold on
those two papers might be strengthened by
bis confidential relations with the great
man. Surmises and conjectures in such a
case are futile the mere playthines of one's
enemies. It needs only to be stated that he
accepted the office with every expectation of
hard work; and that he got it. Such hunt
ing up ot authorities; such verification of
quotations; such boiling down of blue
books; such constant attendance at the
House of Commons; it was all bardly
earned at a salary of 400 a year. But very
well be knew that there were many young
men in this country who would have re
joiced to accept that position at nothing a
year; for it is quite wonderful bojv private
secretaries of Parliamentary chiefs manage,
subsequently, to tumble in for good things.
Then it is probable that his journalistic
enterprises which necessarily became some
what more intermittent after his acceptance
of the secretaryship brought him in, on the
average, another 400 a year. On this in
come he set seriously to work to make him
self a miser. His tastes had always been
simple and excellent health may have been
at once the cause and effect of his abstem
iousness; but now the meager fare he al
lowed himself, and bis rigidly economical
habits in'every way," had a very definite aim
in View. He was "saving money; he was
building up a miniature fortune by half
crowns and pence. Food and drink cost
him next to nothing; if he smoked at all it
was a pipe the last thing in the morning be
fore going to bed. Omnibusses served his
turn unless some urgent business in behalf
of his chief demanded a hansom. He could
not give up his club; for that was in a way
a political institution; and ottentimes he
had to rush up thither and find someone
who was not in the precincts of St. Steph
en's; but then oc the other hand, in a
good club things are much cheaper
than in any restaurant or in the members'
dining room of the House of Commons. It
was remarkable how the little fortune ac
cumulated; and it was a kind of amuse
ment in a fashion. He pinched himself
and laughed. He debated moral questions
for example as to whether it was lawful
to use club stationary in writing articles for
newspapers; but he knew something of the
ways of Government offices, and perhaps
his conscience was salved by evil example.
What the manager of the Westminster
Palace Hotel thought of his manner of liv
ing can be imagined if so august an official
cared to inquire into such details. His
solitary room, breakfast and washing: no
more: those were small bills that he called
for week by week. And so bis little hoard
of capital gradually augmented very grad
ually, it is true, but surelv, as the rate of
interest on deposits rose and fell.
In the meanwhile Lord Musselburgh had
not been very successful in his endeavors to
bring about a reconciliation between Vin
Harris and his family; nor had he been able
to obtain the information that Vincent de
manded. "You see, Vin." he said (they were again
walking up and down the lamp-lit terrace
by the side of the deep-flowing river), "my
wife is awfully upset over this affair. She
thinks it is entirely owing to her misman
agement. She would never have told you
about the 5,000 if she had not been certain
that that would be conclusive proof to you
of the character ot those two people; and
now that she sees what has come of her tell
ing you so much, she is afraid to tell you
any more. Not that I suppose there is
much to tell. Mr. Bethune and Miss
.Bethune are no longer in this country; but
I doubt whether anyone can say precisely
where they are "
"Nonsensel" Vincent broke in, im
patiently. "They're humbugging you, Mus
selburgh. Consider Ibis for a moment. Do
you imagine that George Morris handed
over that 5,000. as a Inmp sum, without
making stipulations, and very definite stipu
lations? Do you imagine he would be con
tent .to take the word of a man whom he
considered a thief? It is absurd to think
bo. Do ut facias would be his motto; and
be would take preclons good care to keep
control over the money in case of non-fulfilment
"
"But there is the receipt!" put in Lord
Musselburgh.
"A receipt for theatrical purposesl" said
Vincent, with something of contempt.
"You may depend oh it the money was not
handed over in that unconditional fashion;
that is not the way in which' George Morris
would do business. He has got some hold
over Mr. Bethune; and he must know well
enough where he is. Supposing Mr.
Bethune had that money in his pocket,
what is to prevent his returning to this
country to-morrow? Where would be the
penalty for his breaking his covenant? You
don't trust "a man whom you consider a
swindler; yon must have some guarantee;
and the guarantee means that you must be
able to get at him when you choose. It
stands to reason! V
"Yes, I suppose so it would seem so,"
said Lord Musselburgh, rafher dr-btfully;
"but at all events i t isn't George Viorris who
is going to open his mouth. I've been to
'him; he declines; refers me to your family.
And then, you see, Vin, I'm rather in an
awKward position, x aon i want to tafce
aides; I don't want to be a partisan; I would
I rather act as the friead ot all of vouj but
the moment I try to do anvtbing I am met
by a challenge and a particularly incon
venient challenge it is. Do I believe with
them, or do I believe with you? I told your
aunt what you said about Mr. Bethene
how you described his character, and all
that; but I didn't do it as well as you; for
she remains unconvinced. As you told the
story, it seemed natural and plausible; but
as I told it and I was conscious of it at the
time it was less satisfactory. Ahd mind
you, if you stick to hard facts, and don't
allow for any interpretation "
If you look through the blue spectacles,
in short"
"Precisely. Well, then, you are con
fronted with some extremely awkward
things. I don't wonder that your aunt asks
pertinently whv. it von are to beein and ex
tend this liberal constrnction of conduct
this allowing for motives this convenient
doctrine or forgiving everything to sen-ae-ception
this looking at a man from his own
standpoint I don't wonder that she asks
why anybody should be sent to prison at
all."
"Oh, as for that," said Vincent, frankly,
."I don't say it would be good for the com
monwealth if all of us were George Bethunes.
Far from it. I look upon him as a sort of
magnificent lusus Daturas; and I would not
have him other than be is not in any one
-particular. But a nation of George
Bethunes? it would soon strike its head
against the stars."
"Very well, then," said Lord Mussel
burgh, "you are not contending for any
general principle. I don't see why you and
your family shouldn't be prepared to agree.
You may both of you be right You don't
insist upon having the justifications you
extend to Mr. Bethune extended to every
one else, or to any one else; you make him
the exception; and you needn't quarrel with
those who take a more literal view of his
character."
"Literal?" said Vincent, with a certain
coldness. "Blindness want of considera- '
tion want of understanding is that tOj.be
literal? Perhaps it is. But I thought yo
said something just now about Mr. Bethune
and a prison; will you tell me of any one
action of his that would suggest imprison
ment?" "Your aunt was merely talking of theo
ries," said Musselburgh, rather uneasily,
for he had not intended to use the phrase.
"What I urge is this why shouldn't both
of you admit that there may be something
in tbe other's view of Mr. Bethune, and
agree to differ? I stand between you; I can
see now how much can be advanced on both
sides."
"And so you would patch up a truce,"
said Vincent. "How long would it last?
Of course I do not know for what period of
banishment my kind relatives stipulated;
5,000 is a considerable sum to pay; I sup
pose they bargained that Mr. Bethune and
his granddaughter should remain away from
Entrland for some time. But not for ever?
Even then, is it to be imagined that they 4
cannot be found? Very well, then. Either
in this country or abroad, Miss Bethune and
I meet face to face again; and she becomes
my wife I hope. It is what I live for.
And then? Where will your patched-un
truce be then? Beside, I "don't want any
sham friendships with people who have
acted as they have done"
"It was in your interest, Vin," his friend
again urged. "Why not give them a little
of the lenient judgment you so freely ex
tended to those others "
"To those others?" replied Vincent, firing
up hotly. "To whom?"
"To Mr. Bethune, then," was the pacific
reply.
"I don't think Mr. Bethune ever con
sciously wronged any human being. But
they were they not aware what they were
dointr when thev slaved this underhand
"trick? sending that girl out into the world
again, through her devotion to ber grand
father? I have told you before, there is no
use crying peace, peace, when there is no
peace. Let them undo some of the mischiel
they have done, first; then we will see. And
look at this silly aflectation of secrecy!
They told me too much when they told me
they had paid money to get George Bethune
out of the country; then I understood why
Maisrie went; then I knew I must have
patience until she came back in the same
mind as when she left, that I know well. I
was puzzled before, and sometimes anxious;
but now I understand; now I am content to
wait And I have plenty to do in the mean
time. I have to gain a proper foothofd
and make some provision for the future as
well: already I am independent of anybody
and everybody. And perhaps, in time to
come, when it is all over, when all these
things have been set right, 1 may be able to
forgive; but I shall not be able to forget."
This was all the message that Lord Mus
selburgh had to take borne with him, to his
wife's profound distress. For she was very
fond of her nephew and very prond of him,
too, and of the position he had already won
forhimself, and what she had done she had
done with the best intentions towards him.
Once, indeed, she confessed to her hnsband
that in spite of herself shehadaBortoUneak
iog admiration for Vincent's obdurate con
sistency and faith, insomuch, she said, that
if only the old man and all his chicaneries
were out of the way she could almost find it
in her heart to try to like the girl, lor Vin
cent's sake.
"The real question," she continued, "the
thing that concerns the most of all to think
of is this: Can a girl who has been so dragged
through the mire have retained her purity
of mind and her proper self-respect? Surely
she must have known that her grandfather
was wheedling people out of money
right and left, and he took her
about with him to enlist sympathy?
Do you suppose she was not per
fectlv aware that Vincent invariably paid
the bills at those restaurants? When trades
people were pressing for money, do you
tancyshe was in Ignorance all the time?
Very well : what a life for any one to lead !
How could she hold up her head among
ordinarily honest and solvent people? Even
supposing that she herself was all she onght
to be, the humiliation must have sunk deep.
And even if one were to try to liKe her,
there would always be that consciousness
between her and you. You might be sorry
for her, in a kind of way; but you would be
still sorrier for Vincent; and that would be
dreadful."
"My dear Madge," her husband said in
his character of mediator and peacemaker,
"you are arguing on a series of assumptions
and prejudices. If Vin does hold on to his
faith in those two and if he does in the end
marry Miss Bethune I shall comfort my-
I self with the conviction, that be was likely
IT "WAS IN MAISRIE'S 0TN HANDWRITING.
THE PITTSBTOpDISPATCH.' SUNDAY; DECEMBER 14,
to know more about them than anybody
else. Ho and they have been on terms of
closest intimacy, and for a long time; and
you may be pretty sure that the girl Vin
wants to marry is no tarnished kind of a
person in his eyes."
"Ab, yes in his eyes!" said Lady Mus
selburgh rather sadly
"Well, his eyes are as clear as most folks
at least, I've generally found them so,"
her husband said trying wbata little vague
optimism would do.
One afternoon Vincent was walking along
Piccadilly and walking rapidly, as was his
wont, for'the twin purposes of exercise and
economy when he saw, some way ahead of
him, Lady Musselburgh crossing the pave
ment to her carriage. She saw him, too,
and stopped color mounting to her face.
When be came up be merely lilted nis nat,
and would have kept on his way but that
sne addressed mm.
"Vmcentl" she said in an appealing, half
reproachful fashion.
And then she said
"I want you to come into the house for a
few minutes I must speak with you."
,"Is there any, use?" he asked rather
coldly.
However, she was very much embarrassed,
as her heightened color showed, and he
could not keep her standing qere in Picca
dilly. He said, "Very well," and followed
her up the steps and into the house. When
they had got into the drawing room she
shut the door behind them, and began at
once with not a little piteous agitation in
her manner.
"Vin, this is too dreadful ! Can nothing
be done? Why are you so implacable? I
suppose you don't understand what you
have been to me, always, and how I have
looked to your future as something almost
belonging to me, something that I was to be
proud ot; and now that it is all likely
to come true, you go and make a
stranger ot yourself 1 When I see your
name in the papers, or hear yon spoken of
at a dinner table it is someone who is dis
tant from me, as if I had no concern vith
him .any longer. People come up to me and
say, 'Ob, I heard your nephew speak at the
Mansion House the other afternoon,' or 'I
met yonr nephew at the Foreign Office last
night;' and I cannot say, 'Don't you know;
he has gone and made himself a stranger to
us?' "
"I wonder who it was who made a stranger
of me!" he interposed but quite impass
ively, "I can only say, again and again, that it
was done for the best, Vin!" she answered
him. "The mistake I made was in letting
you krrow. But I took it for granted that
as soon as you were told that those people
had accepted money from us to go
away "
"Those people? What people?" he de
manded, with a sterner air.
"Oh, I meant only Mr. Bethune himself,
said she, hastily. "Oh, yes, certainly, only
him; there were no negotiations with any
one else."
"Negotiations!" he said, with a touch of
scorn. ''Well, perhaps you can tell me
what those negotiations were? How long
did Mr. Bethune undertake to remain out of
this country?"
"Three years, Vin," said she, timidly re
garding him.
"Three years?" he repeated, in an absent
way.
"But there is no reason," she added
quickly, "why he should not return at any
moment if he wishes; so I understand; of
course, I did not make the arrangement
but I believe that is so."
"Return at any moment?" He said.slowly.
"Do you mean to tell me that you put
5,000 into that old man's hands, on con
dition he should leave the country for three
years, and that all the same you left him
tree to return at any moment?"
"Of course he would forfeit the money,"
said she, rather nervously.
"But how could he forfeit themoney if he
already has it? He has got the money; you
showed me the receipt. Come, aunt," said
he, in quite a different tone, "let us be a
little more honest and above-board. Shall
I tell you how I read the whole situation?
You can contradict me if I am wrong. But
that receipt you showed me; wasn't it pro
duced for merely theatrical purposes; wasn't
it meant to crush and overwhelm me as a piece
of evidence? Themoney wasn't handed over
like that, was it? Supposing I were to
conjecture that somebody representing you
or representing my father has still got con
trol over that money; and that it is to be
paid in installments as it is earned by
absence? Well, isn't that so?"
He fixed bis eyes on her; she hesitated
and was a little confused.
"I tell you, Vin," she said, "Ihad person
ally nothing to do with making the ar
rangement; all that was left in George
Morris' hands; and, of course, he would
take whatever precautions he thought
necessary. And why should you talk about
theatrical purposes? I really did not think
that when I could show you Mr. Betnune
was ready to take money from strangers to
go away from England you would change
your opinion of him. But apparently, in
your eyes, he can do no wrong. He is not
to be judged by ordinary rules and stand
ards. Everything is to be twisted about on
his behalf, and forgiven, or even admired.
Nobody else is allowed such latitude ot con
struction; and everything is granted to him
because he is George Bethune. But I
don't think it is quite fair: or that you
should take sides against your own family."
This was an adroit stroke, following upon
a very clever attempt to extricate herself
from an embarrassing position; but his
thoughts were otherwise occupied.
"I should like you to tell me," said he.
"if you can, what moral wrong was involved
in Mr. Bethune consenting to accept that
money. Where was the barm or the igno
miny? Do you think I cannot guess at the
representations and inducements put before
him, to get him to stay abroad for three
years? Why, 1 could almost tell you, word
for word, what waB said to,himl Here was
an arrangement that would be of incalcula
ble benefit to everybody concerned. He
would be healing up family dissensions.
He would be guarding his granddaughter
from a marriage that conld only bring her
disappointment and humiliation. Three
years of absence and forgetfulness would
pat an end to all thoie projects.
And then, of course, you could not ask.
him to throw up'his literary engagements
and incur the expense of travel, without
some compensation. Here is a sum of
5,000. whioh will afford him some kind of
securityin view of this disturbance of his
engagements, A receipt? objjef, a receipt,
if necessary. But then, again, on second
boughts, wouldn't it only be prudent to
lodge this 5,000 with some third person,
some man of position whom all could trust,
and who would send it In installments, to
avoid the risk of carrying so large a sum
about with one? There might be a little
harmless condition or two attached, more
over. You undertake, for example, that the
young people shall not have communication
with each other; you say your grand
daughter will do as you wish in all things.
Very well, pake her away; disappear, both
of you; you are doing us an immense kind
ness, and you are acting in the bestinterests
of all concerned. Never mind a little mis
ery here or there, or the risk of a broken
heart; we can afford to pay for such things;
we can afford to have the moulds of a des
sert service destroyed and a little matter of
5,000 is not much, when we have plans.
And so those two go out into the world
again."
He paused for a second. "Well, aunt,
you've had your way; and there's no more
to be said, except this, perhaps, that you
don't seem to realize the greatest of all the
mistakes you have made. Your three years,
even if they should be three years of ab
sence, will not be years of forgetfulness on
either Maisrie Bethune's part or mine; Oh,
no; nothing of the kind; don't cherish auy
illusions on that score. It happened curi
ously that just befere they left Brighton she
and I had a little talk over one or two
things; and she asked ma for a promise,
which I gave her, and which I mean to
keep."
Well, the handsome lad now standing be
fore her had a great hold on her affection;
and she even admired, in a covert way, this
very bigotry of constancy and unswerving
faith of his, so that lor an instant her head
swam, and she was on the point of crying
out "Vincent Vincent go and bring her to
me and I will take her to my heart lor
your sakel" But the next moment she had
recovered from that mad impulse; she saw
that what bad been done was not to be un
done in that happy-go-lucky fashion, even
if it could be undone at all; and she was
silent and embarrassed, It was he who
"Well, von must excuse me. aunt; I've
to be down at the House by question time."
"You're not going like that, Vin!" she
exclaimed.
"What do you want of me?" he asked in
a coldly civil way.
"I I want you to be as you once were,
to all of us," she cried, ratberincoherently.
"I want you to go back to Gro'svenor Place;
and to accept the allowance your father has
made you ever since you came of age; and
to resume the old bygone relations with us.
Surely it would be possible, with a little
consideration on both sides. What we have
done was done entirely out of thoughtful
ness for you; and if we have made a mis
take we are only human beings! And re
member, it is quite possible that you may
be mistaken too, Vin; it is one thing to be
able to get up and make a clear and clever
speech about some political subject, and
quite another to. understand some of the
strange sides of human nature. You may
be mistaken just as much as we and
and"
"What you propose, aunt," said he (for
time was precious with him), "even if it
were practicable, would only be temporary.
I am looking forward to marrying Maisrie
Bethune iu spite of your three years of
forgetfulness and when that happens, your
Eatched-up state of affairs would all come to
its again. So what is the use of professing
a sort of sham reconciliation? I have no
wish to return to Grosvenor Place. I have
taken some rooms at the foot of Bucking
ham etreet; and I have a key that letsme
through by the Embankment gardens into
Villiers street; it will be convenient for
getting to the House. And I can tide along
pretty well without any allowance from my
father; in fact, I'm saving a little money in
a quiet way 7
"But at what a cost, Vincent at what a
cost!" she protested. "I wish you could see
how worn and ill you are looking "
"Well, I've had some things to think of
lately thanks to my kind relatives," said
he. "But really I must be off "
"Vincent," she said, making one last des
pairing effort to' bring things back to their
former footing, "when are you going to ask
Lonie Drexell and me to dine with you at
"the House?"
"I'm so busy, aunt, just now," said he, as
he opened the door for her. Then he saw
her into her carriage; and she drove away
a most perplexed and unhappy woman.
These rooms that Vincent had taken at
the foot of Buckingham street were right up
at the top of the building; and commanded a
spacious prospect of the river, the embank
ment gardens, the bridges, the great dusky
world of London lying all around, and the
dome of St Paul's rising dim and phantas
mal in the East They were bachelor cham
bers, that had doubtless seen many tenants
(the name of one, George Brand, was still
over the door, and Vincent did not think it
worth while to change it), but the young
man had no sooner entered into possession
than he began a series of alterations and
improvements that bachelor chambers did
not seem to demand. Not in any Hurry,
however, nor perhaps with any fixed
intent; it was a kind of amusement
for this or that odd halt-hour . he
could snatch from his multifarious
duties. To begin with, he had the wood
work painted a deep Indian red, and the
walls a pearly blue-gray; while the former
color was repeated in the Japanese window
curtains, and tbe latter by the great world
outside, on the lambent moonlight, nights,
or sometimes in the awakening of, the dawn,
as he lay in a low easy chair and watched
the vast, silent city coming ont of its sleep.
This top floor was "a very still place, except
for the early chattering of the tree sparrows,
into whose nests, swayiug on the branches
just beneath him, he could have tossed a
biscuit. Andf then his peregrinations
through London, rapid though they were as
a rule, occasionally brought him face to
face with a bric-a-brac shop; and from time
to time he picked up one thing or another,
just as it happened to strike his fancy. Per
haps these modest purchases were jnst a
trifle too elegant for a bachelor's apart
ments, tbe sitting room away up in that
lofty situation came to look rather
like a boudoir; lor example, there
was a musio stand In rosewood and
ormula a tall stand it was, as
if for a violin player which he him
self never used. Pictures he conld not
afford; but-books he could; and the volumes
which were one by one added to those
shelves were of a more graceful and literary
stamp than you would have expected to find
in tbe library of a young and busy member
of Parliament It was not a lordly palace
of art, this humble suite of apartments in
the neighborhood of tbe Strand; but there
was a prevailing air of selection and good
taste; perhaps, one ought to say, of expect
ancy, also, in the presence of things not yet
in use. Then the two large and low win
dows of the sitting room were all sur
rounded with ivy, of long training; but
beside that, there were flower boxes; and at
a moment's notice, and at small expense,
these could be filled with potted
geraniums, if one wished to be
gay. And always outside was
the varied panorama of the great
city; the wide rlvr and the bridges, the
spires ana the towers, the far marses of
buildings becoming more and more spectral
as they receded into the gray and wavering
mist 'Sometimes the rose and saffron of the
dawn were there, ascending with a soft suf
fusion behind the purple dome of St Paul's;
sometimes there were blown and breezy
days, with flying showers and watery gleams
of snnlight;and sametlmes tbe night lay
blue and still and clear, tbe Surrey aide in
black and mysterious shadow, the white
moon high in the south. This silent alti
tude was a fine place for dreaming, after
all the toil and moil of the working hours
were overj aud .1 fine place for listening,
too; sometimes, toward the morning, just as
the leaves began to stir, you could tancy the
wind was bringing a message with it it'
seemed, coming from far away, to say some
thing about Claire Fontaine.
(2V be continued next Sunday.)
Glvo the Ducks Time to Eat
Coos Bay. Ore., News j
It is the intention to introdacea bill at
the next session of the Legislature prohibit
ing night shooting on the waters of Coo
Bav. The .ducks are allowed no time tog
,ee.d. at present, either 4 or night,
1890,
FEATS OF -FASTING.
Doctor Gibier's Explanation of tbe
Secret of Signor Sncci.
WILL J OWEK AND TRAINING DO IT.
The Unparalleled but Well-Established
Achievement of Ilarides. '
MONTHS IS A SDBTEEEANEAN T01IB
The fast of Signor Succi (pronounced
"Sooehy") at New York is attracting uni
versal attention. He ate his last meal No
vember 5, and if he completes his 46 days
without food he will take his first meal Sun
day morning, December 21. He is a mere
skeleton now, and, as this is his thirty
eighth day, he is likely to be a mere astral
body before the 45 days are up.
What is his secret?
Few men are better qualified to discuss
this matter than Dr. Paul Gibier, director
of the New York Pasteur Institute, not so
much by reason of his knowledge of bacteri
ology and contagious diseases as because of
his thorough knowledge of psychological
questions. Dr. Gibier studied at the famous
Salpetriere Hospital, in Paris, and under
Prof. Charcot and Dr. Luys, both of whom
are unrivaled as specialists! He is himself
the author of varions standard works on
psychological questions. Asked about
Succi, the eminent physician spoke to a New
York Herald as follows:
THE THEORIES ADVANCED.
"I shall not take up your time in discuss
ing.the different theories that have been ad
vanced regarding Signor Succi. There is
without doubt a little truth in each of them.
Succi is certainly highly endowed with that
power of resistance which is peculiar to the
human race. He has great strength of will
and energy. He lives by the universal
ether, for what is the universal ether but the
energy, the anima mundi, which animates
all living beings, but which must not be
confounded with tbe intelligence. So, you
see, there is a certain amonnt of truth in
each theory, but not sufficient in any to sat
isfy the scientific mind. My explanation
will, I think, satisfy you, if not completely
at least better than the others.
"When a man wants to do something ex
traordinary, no matter what be its nature,
he can accomplish feats quite unusual and
apparently entirely at variance with the
laws of nature. He attains his object here
is the whole secret in a nutshell by means
of a combination of a mild sort of enthusi
asm and energy. His strength of will en
ables him to succeed. I am well aware that
men, and even animals, have lived a long
time without food, aud yet in these cases no
one would claim that enthusiasm had proved
an auxiliary.
STARVATION THAT'S INVOLUNTARY.
"Dogs, for example, can live for weeks
without food, but not without drink, as has
been fully proved by different physiolo
gists, among others by Dr. Laborde, of
Paris. Men condemned to death who have
tried to starve themselves in order that they
might escape the gallows have lived for
weeks. These, however, are isolated cases.
On the other hand, Sncci's case is the result
of training, as I will demonstrate by facts
which may appear to you extraordinary, but
which are easily and naturally explained.
"Six hundred years ago Ibn Kaldoun, an
Arabian savant, told iu his 'Prolegomena of
Universal History,' a copy of which can be
seen in the National Library of Paris, of
men who surrendered themselves to a strange
enthusiasm with the object of discovering
things concealed from human ken both in
the present and the future, and he added
that 'these men are as a rule inhabitants of
India, where they are known as Yoghis.
According to Ibu Kaldoun these Yoghis
wrote several books describing the method
of training and containing accounts of mar
velous feats of fasting and endurance. So
you see that 600 years ago, as to-day, India
was considered the cradle of the marvelous.
THE INFLEXIBLE "WILL.
"Through a long and painful education
these believers acquire a new nature, and
are in consequence enabled to exercise the
psychic powers of which Ibn Kaldoun
ipeaks, their great aim, I say without hesi
tation, being to attain an ideal which is at
once most beautiful and most lofty. It is
astonishing what feats a man can perform
when impelled by an inflexible will, which
nothing can swerve from the proposed goal.
We hear of fasters who, like Succi, remain
for several weeks without taking into their
system any substance except pure water. In
India there are men who go to even greater
extremes. There can be lound tasters who
remain for several years without taking any
thing except some grains of rice and a little
water. Some perform a still more wonder
ful feat; by means of a peculiar process
of auto-hypnotization they succeed in
suspending for the time being all the normal
functions of active life.
WHAT DE. HONIGBEEOER SAW.
"How 'great is the will power of these
Voghis, and how horrible are the torments
which they callously inflict upon their
bodies, you can see from the following ac
count of an extraordinary feat, witnessed by
Dr. Honigberger and confirmed by Sir
Claudius Wade, the English Besident Min
ister at Lahore.
"After long meditation and thinking it
high time that he should join Brahma in an
eternal Nirvana, Harides, the Brahmin, be
came a hermit and began that series of relig
ious, physical and intellectual exercises by
which men are fitted for that state, which
Dr. Beyer calls anabiose, and which the
Hindoos call Vdg Vidya, Bu Stambha or
Vaju Stambha, which means the art of pro
ducing, by means of ecstacy and a complete
withdrawal of the elemental forces of life, an
entire and harmless snspension of the vital
functions. While in this state a man may
be buried for a long time and brought back
again to life.'
HARIDES, THE FASTER.
"Haridesffrst builta sort of semi-subterraneous
cell and. aided by his disciples, he
entered through a narrow door and stretched
himself on a soft bed of wool and cotton.
His servants then closed the door with earth
and left him within, seated in the attitude
of Brahma or reclining on his couch and
either reciting prayers or meditating pro
foundly on the Divinity. At first he only
secluded himself for some minutes, then for
some hours, but finally, by gradually ac
customing himself to live without air, he
acquired the power to remain in his narrow
grave for several days. At the same time
hi began the exercise of Pranayama, or
holding the breath, aud at first for 5 min
utes, then for 10, then for 21, then 43, then
for Si minutes he did not suffer a breath to
escape him. Don't ask me why he abstained
from breathing for exactly so many min
utes on each occasion, as that is a secret of
the Voghis.
"He also caused several incisions to be
cnt under his tongue one incision ealh
week. Tbe object of this operation was to
enable him to turn hii tongue back into his
pharynx in such a manner that the opening
of the glottis would be closed during the
period ot his anaboise. And while all these
preparations Vere being made tbe recluse
observed all the rules of Voghism. He
nonrished himself with vegetables only and
kept himself unspotted from the world.
A -WONDERFUL EXHIBITION.
"Finally, when he was ready to make the
great trial, he presented himself at the Court
of Lahore. Why did he present himself he
fore Eajah Bunget Sing? I 'presume his
object was either to convert him, if he was a
Mussulman, or, following the example ot
tbe prophets of Israel, who were also Voghis
in their own way, to reproach tbe King
with his faults and predict that he and all
his courtiers would come to a speedy and
lamentable end if they did not straightway
repent of their sinf. In any case, in order
that thev, might feel assured ot his divine
mission, he oflered to prove thatlie could re
main lor weeks and mouths under ground in
1
a coffin and then resume bis natural life.
"His proposition was accepted.
Then Hsxidw. tb.9 Yogbjl saade-hJafiaal
preparations. His body he purified exter
iorly by ablutions and interiorly by fasting
and the juices of sacred herbs; his stomach
he cleansed, not by means of a tube, after
our modern method, bnt by means of long
strips of linen, which he swallowed and
afterward drew out through his mouth. On
the appointed day an immense crowd as
sembled. Surrounded by his difciples and
attended by the Eajah and his court, Harides
advanced solemnly toward his chosen
grave.
A DEATH-LIKE TRANCE.
"There a linen shroud had been stretched
on tbe ground, and on it he placed himself,
and turning his face toward the east cros ed
his legs in the attitude Pamadzan that is
to say, in tbe attitude of Brahma seated on
tbe lotus. Then he rolled his tongue back
into his throat, fixedhis eyes on the tip of
his nose and remained motionless. Pres
ently his eyes closed, hit limbs became
stiff and it became apparent that he was in
a sort of lethargic catalepsy. I propose to
call this death-like trance tbanatoeidis,
from the Greek word signifying 'death and
'appearance.' The epithet 'lethargic' does
not signify 'apparent death,' as we under
stand the phrase, but 'a deep, pathological
sleep,' as can be seen from the derivation of
the word. Anabiose also seems to me an
improper word in this sense, as it signifies
'loss of life,' whereas snspension of life is
all that really takes place. '
"The followers of Harides then hastened
to close his eyes and nostrils with linen
plugs, their object doubtless being to protect
him from insects. Above his head they
joined the four corners of the shroud and
tied them firmly together. The Kajah's seal
was placed on the knots and tbe body was
then shut up in a wooden casket fourfeet in
height by three feet in width, which was
closed hermetically and was also stamped
with the royal seal.
SIX TVEEKS IN A TOMB.
"The casket was placed in a vault of
exactly the same dimensions, which had
been constructed tor the purpose, three feet
under ground. The door was then closed,
sealed and completely) i surrounded with
earth'. Thenceforth the tomb was guarded
day and night by chosen sentinels and was
an object of veneration to thousands of
Hindoos, who had flocked from all direc
tions, as thongh on a pilgrimage, to the
burial place of the holy man.
"At the end of six weeks, which was the
time fixed for the opening of the tomb, an
immense mass of spectators gathered and
waited to see what would happen, and first
the Bajah caused the earth which walled up
the door to be removed and was satisfied
that his seal had not been broken. Then
the door was opened and the lid of the
casket, on which the seal also was untouched,
was raised.
"Dr. Honigberger noticed that the shroud
was covered with a moist substance, and
naiurally attributed it to the humidity of
the grave. The body of the recluse, still
wrapped in the shroud, was removed from
the casket by bis disciples and propped
against the lid; then, while the shroud was
still around him, they ponred some hot
water over his head. Finally they released
him from the shrond, after they bad verified
and broken the seals.
A REMARKABLE RESUSCITATION.
"Then Dr. Honigberger examined him
carefully. The man's attitude was the same
as on the day of the burial, except that his
bead now reposed on one shoulder. The
skin was wrinkled, the limbs were stiff.
All the body was cold, except the head,
which bad been sprinkled with hot water.
Of a pulse no trace conld be fonnd, and tbe
utter failure to discover any sign of motion
in the heart seemed to be a clear indication
of death. Tbe raised eyelids revealed eyes
glazed and spiritless as those of a corpse.
"The disciples and servants washed the
body and began to rnb the limbs. One of
them placed on the skull a mass of hot
wheaten dongb, which was renewed several
times, while another removed the stoppages
from the ears and nose and opened the
month with a knife. Still, Harides re
mained as a statue of wax and there was
not the faintest sign of life in him.
"After opening his mouth the disciple
caught hold of his tongue and replaced it
in its natural position. Thus he held it for
some time until its tendency to tall back on
the larynx was overcome. Meanwhile the
eyelids had been rubbed with grease and a
final ointment of hot dough had been
placed on the head. Juit then the body
was seized with trembling, the nostrils
dilated, a deep breath was drawn, tbe pulse
began to beat slowly and the limbs became
mobile. A littlt melted butter was poured
on the tongue, and after this painful scene,
the result of which had appeared so doubt
ful, the eyes regained their pristine bril
liancy. A SECOND ENTOMBMENT.
"The resurrection of the Voghi was ac
complished, and as bis own eyes met tbe
Bajah's he said to him simply, 'Now do you
believe me?' Half an hour sufficed to re
vive him and in another half hour, though
still weak, be was sitting at the royal table,
clothed in a rich garment and decorated
with a necklace of pearls and bracelets of
gold. Some time afterward, doubtless be
cause the Bajah had paid no heed to his
teaching, the Voghi caused himself to be en
tombed a second time, and on tnis occasion
.his grave was six feet under ground. Earth
was piled around nis comn, tne grave was
walled in, more earth was spread over it
and in this earth barley was sown. Ac
cording to the same eye witnesses Harides
remained for four months in this tomb and
at the end of that period came back to life
in the same manner as on the former occa
sion. "These achievements are as much at vari
ance with all that physiology teaches us
about the ordinary conditions of human life
that one cannot refrain from sayiug: 'Yes,
these strange things may be true, but I'd
like to see them.'
SHO-WS THE POSSIBILITIES.
"Still, as the writer, from whom I bor
rowed this story remarks: 'It would be rash
for us, simply because we cannot yet ex
plain them, to assume that such fact3 are
impossible.' I could tell yon of many other
marvelous deeds of a similar nature
achieved in India, bnt I think I have said
enough, at any rate you can see that Sncci
is yet far from being the equal of Harides,
though it is quite possible that by rigid
training and the exercise of that will power,
with which he is unquestionably endowed,
he may ultimately arrive at tbe same re
sults. "Whether he does or not, the examples
which I have cited prove, I think, that pe
culiar powers which are apparently at vari
ance with all laws of physiology, may be
acquired by training and that just as men
can become boxers, runners, swimmers and
morphine maniacs, so, too, men can becom
adepts at fasting. All tbey need is to grad
ually acquire the habit until it becomes, as
it were, their second nature'."
ABE THE DOCTORS CRIMINALLY LIABLE?
Complications of an alarming character'
are likely to arise' in connection witn tne
long fast of Succi. A dozen doctors may be
indicted for manslaughter. That is, if the
Italian dies, and he is failing very fast Of
course, tbe doctors deride the idea,but it is a
novel question and may give them serious
trouble. The report that Succi had gone
insane has been followed several times by
statements that he was at death's door. His
weight is at about the hundred mark now,
and his average dally loss of avoirdupois
since his fight with starvation began has
been about a pound and a .sixth a day. At
the rate he has been dwindling in bulk he
will weigh about 94 pounds if he is alive at
the end of 45 days. This will be a loss of
ZZYK pounds to an undeiz:d middle-weight
man.
Can a man of slight .bnirs and nervous
temperament like SlSnor Sncci, who never
weighed more than 147 pounds, stand such a
loss? Can he go 46 daysfwifliout as much
food as the crumb which the sparrow picks
up for breakfast? It is true that the plucky
Italian has fasted successfully for 40 days
in the languid climate of Italy and in the
muggy atmosphere of England, where tbe
processes of life are slow and the waste of
tissue small.
But that is no evidenee that he c in fast 46
days in the clearairof the United States. His
waste ol tissue is greater in New York and
his appetite keener than they would be
JLa tho cliautt cf th -Old "World,
21
ON AN OSTEICH FARM.
Growing the BBirds in the Colonies
of South Africa.
CHICKS ARE COMICAL BEAUTIES.
Kaffirs Fall Oat the Stabs of the Feathers
With their Teeth.
APPETITE OP THE SECKETAP.I BIED
In the early' days of ostrich farming
splendid fortunes weremade. Then feathers
were worth 100 per pound, the plumes of
one bird at a single plucking realizing on an
average 25. For a good pair of breeding
birds 400, or even 500, was no uncommon
price; and little chicks, only just out oftht
egg, were worth 10 each. Indeed, the un
hatched eggs have been sometimes valued at
the same amount But since the supply has
become so much greater than the demand
things are sadly changed for tbe farmer; our
best pair of ostriches would not now sell for
more than 12. And experience has taught
us to look for no bigbersum than 30 shillings
for tbe feathers of the handsomest bird at
one plucking. At the same time, if a lady
wishes to buy a good leather in London or
in Paris, she has to pay nearly the same
price as in former times.
There are not many young animals pret
tier than a little ostrich chick during the
first few weeks of life, writes Annie Martin
from an ostrich farm South Africa, in a very
clever contribution to literature. It has
such a sweet, innocent baby face, such large
eyes, and such a plump, round little body.
Ail its movements are comical, andtlhere is
an air of conceit and independence about
tbe tiny creature which is most amusing.
niS PRETTY STRIPED COAT.
Instead of feathers it has a little rough
coat which seems all made up of narrow
strips of material, of as many different shades
of brown and grey as there are in a tailor's
pattern book, mixed with shreds of black;
while tbe head and neck are apparently cov
ered with the softest plush, striped and col
ored just like a tiger's skin on a small scale.
On tbe whole, tbe little fellow on hifirst
appearance in tbe world is not unlike a
hedgehog on two legs, with along neck.
On a large farm, when plucking is con
templated, it is anything but an -easy mat
ter to collect the birds; the gathering togeth
er of ours was generally a work of three
days. Men have to be sent out in all direc
tions to drive the birds up, by twos and
threes, from the far off spots to which they
have wandered. Little troops are gradually
brought together, and collected, first, in a
large inclosure, then in a small one, the
plucking kraal, in which they are crowded
together so closely that the most savage bird
has no room to make himself disagreeable.
Besides the gates through which the
ostriches are driven into the kraal, there is
an outlet at the opposite end through the
"plucking box." This latter is a most use
ful invention, saving much time and
trouble. It is a very solid wooden box, in
which though there is just room for an os
trich to stand, he cannot possibly turn
round; nor can he kick, the sides of the box
being too high.
PLUCKING THE BIG BIRDS.
At each end there is a stout door, and after
more or less of a scuffle he is pushed in and
the door slammed behind him. Then the
two operators, standing one on each side of
the box, have bim completely in their
power, and with a lew rapid snips of their
shears his splendid wings are soon denuded
of their long white plumes. These, to pre
vent their tips from being spoiled, are
always cut before the quills are ripe. The
stumps of the latter are allowed to remain
some two or three months longer, until they
are so ripe that they can be pulled out
generally by the teeth of the Kaffirs with
out hurting the bird. It is necessary to pull
them; the feathers, which by their weight
would have caused the stumps to fall out
naturally at the right time, being gone.
Some farmers, anxious to hurry on the
next crop of feathers, are cruel enoy gh to
draw the stumps before they are ripe, but
nature, as usual, resents the interference
with her laws, and the feathers of birds
which have been thus treated soon dete
riorate. It is best to pluck only once a
year. The tails and the glossy black quills
are not cut, but pulled out; this, every one
says, does not hurt the birds, but there is an
unpleasant tearing sound about the opera
tion which I think must make their eyes
water.
S-WALLO-WED KITTENS ALIVE.
Among the numerous pets on the farm
from which I write, says Mrs. Martin, is a
secretary bird. He was like a boa-constrictor
in bis capacity for "cutting himself
outside" the animals on which he fed
lizards, rats, toads, frogs, fat, juicy locusts',
young chickens, alas! and some of the
smaller pets, if left incautiously within his
reacb, even little kittens all went down
whole. The last named animals were his
favourite delicacy, and he was fortunate
enough while at Walmer to get plenty of
them. His enormous appetite, and our
difficulty in satisfying it, were well known
in tne neighborhood, ana the owners of
several prolific cats,instead ot drowning the
superfluous progeny, bestowed them on us
as offerings to Jacob. They were killed
and given to him at the rate of one a day.
Once, however, by an unlucky accident,
one of them got into his clutches witheut
the preliminary knock on tbe head, and the
old barbarian swallowed it alive. For
some minutes we could hearthe poor thing
mewing piteously in Jacob's interior, while,
he himself stood there listening and looking
all around in a puzzled manner to see where
the noise came from. He evidently thought
there was another kitten somewhere, and
seemed much disappointed at not finding it
SNAKES OF bOUTH AFRICA.
Snakes are, it seems, indeed, one of the
greatest drawbacks to South African life.
There are so many of them, they are of such
deadly sorts, and the obtrusive familiarity
and utter absence of ceremony with which
they come into the houses render the nerves
ot newly arrived inmates liable at any mo
ment to receive a severe shock.
After a time, of course, finding that every
one you meet bas some startling experience
to relate of the discovery of intrusive snakes
in all sorts of places where they were most
unlooked for and least observable, yon be
come somewhat inured to this unueasans
feature of colonial existence, ana move
about your house with the caution of one
who would not be surprised to find a snaka
anywhere.
MADAME A. RUPPERT
Complexion Specialist
jr
nrn. A. Ennnert's world-renowned
M.ai.h I tba onlv laee tonic in tne world whiaM 1
positively removes freckles, moth patehenj
blackheads, pimples, birthmarks, eczema ase '
all blemishes ot the skin, and when appHed
mnnnt bs observed br anyone. The fada
Mcacn can only ba had at my branch o&eei
Jf r. VS tlllo avenue, iiammun uunainjt roosa
203 and 204, Pittsburg, or sent to any address oa
receipt ot price. Bold at tZ per bottle, or terea i
bottles, usually required to clear tbe flTrmalnTij
ion, so. seaaiceBwjw'-'Koiuiiai.ua.rcH
.ecll-sa UHS.A.B.VSSi
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