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W VV""), ,1
-.rpTfs,srs"'B5 "-j?f-
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r-PI5R!' --ijlf'fff '
13
then it the Casino, she tells me, and not sel-
Jaki in tha MAvnv C .1 Y . !.! IP
uvu. u .mc l.uiujUit VI IUO IMMTJ iHUlSClI.
He has the entree into the most difficult
Saltravian houses. Indeed, why not,
since that Clarimond designs to "be his
friend? You will change your mind about
the Jerninghanis, mv dear" will vou not?"
'So," replied Kathleen, with much firm
ness. Then she looked at her mother very
fixedly, and pursued: "Sow, mamma, le't
one thing be clearly understood between
you and me. We came here for the waters
at least I did, if you did not. It is late in
the day for me to try and impress upon you
that niy social lite "is ended. You must
have seen that in Dresden. And as for a
certain idea of yours, I can only gay that it
would be painful to me beyond words
painful and mortifying in the extreme
were it not so strongly flavored with an
element of wild absurdity."
Mrs. Kennaird attempted no further per
suasions. "Let me achieve her presenta
tion to the Kinc," she mused, "and this
nonsensical desire for secluding herself will
vanish like one of the Saltravian morning
mists." And while she robed her stately
figure, that afternoon, in the most becom
ing gown that her limited wardrobe pos
sessed, the new yearning cheered her
spirit as an exlixir-like cordial warms the
blood. Because an aim was dazzling, even
dizzying, should it for that reason be de
serted? Ah, to think of the exquisite vic
tory it would mean? How that horrible
Marchioness of Dendudlow would writhe
when she heard of it? To be the mother of a
queen! There was something splendidly
distinctive in the very boldness of the pro
ject. The fact that an eflbrtlikethis teemed
with novelty and daring was no sign that
It would prove a failure. After all, so much
depended on Kathleen's powers of fasciua
tiou, and these were immense. Then, too,
was she not just Amarican enough to be
called an American girl, and was not this
the next remarkable and stirring act for the
American girl to commit? Margaretta
Kennaird surveyed herself in the dressing
mirror as she donned her bonnet, and
thought how the matronly symmetries of
her figure would grace a court And then to
have her portrait painted by some famous
European artist and hung in the palace as
that of the "Queen's mother!" Perhaps
several centuries after her death it would
hang there. And for several centuries, no
doubt, they would recollect her great ac
complishment overseas in Sew York,
whence her stock had sprung. Everybody
who could claim the faintest relationship
with her would do so. "Queen Kathleen"
would rate for them as an ancestress worth
having; that humiliating Dendudlow affair
would be mercifully hidden (why not?) by
the capacious mantle of historv itself.
"Queen Kathleen 3" What a delightful
sound it had ! "Clarimond and Kathleen 1"
There was not as much real honeyed roman
ticism in even "Borneo and Juliet 1"
It must be confessed that meditations of
this kind produced an intoxicating effect
upon this most curious of American "aristo
crats." Her state of mind was almost an
agitated one by the time that a short stroll
had brought her to the gates of the Jerning
ham villa. She felt hcelf on the verge of
society here in Saltravia; felt that to-day
might prove but the quiet threshold of many
beautiful morrows. There were not more
than "0 guests present, and these were near
ly all her own country folk. In the course
of a little time she was presented to at least
half of them, finding that she already knew
a few, that she had heard of a number more,
and that certain others were not by any
means of a desirable type. Then it entered
her shrewd mind that this set, into which
she had drifted, was altogether the wrong
set, and that if she kept Kathleen quite out
of it she would be doing a most prudent
act
The Jerninhams, brother and sister, had
evidently a great grudge against the King
and his court, and it was pleasant for them
to feel that their friends were of the same
rather rancorous mind. They never spoke
acainst Clarimond, but they hinted that he
was flippant and frivolous and had all the
proverbial bad faith of the Princess.
Brother and sitter ere oddly alike, both
being tjll and slim, both having a sunken
look about the cheeks and slaty-hued eyes
with piuk-edzed lid's. They fioth talked
with a slicht lisp, and in talking used their
hands with the same jerky little gestures.
Neither of them often said "I," it was
nearly always we" with them, so that
alter a while yon got the impression that
nothing happened singlv to this devoted
brother and sister, but that human experi
ence treated them to its sjood and its ill in
perpetual duo, as the rain and sun tre3t two
apples on a single stem.
Harriet .Terningham made herself notably
civil to Mrs. Kennaird, and after awhile
they had a private chat together amid the
general babble of the little modish drawing
room. "Wc hear your daughter is so wonderfully
beautiful, Jlfs. Kennaird," said the sister
of the deposed Art buperintendent "Par
don me, but v.e do! And it grieves us
greatly to hear that she is indisposed to
day. The waters sometimes afiect people
for a few days just like that.
We can't live away from them now, thousrh
at first we thousht them reallvquite horrid.
That is whv my dear brother Wasn't depart
ed from Saltra la. I mean since Mr. Eric
Thaxter caused the King to treat him so
cruelly. But perhaps you haven't heard
about "that. So? Oh, then, I won't bore
you with our private grievances. And yet,
after all, they've become horribly puvjlic,
ever since my dear brother wasousted from
his position and that Alonzo Lispenard was
made to replace him."
"Alonzo Lispenard:" broke from Mrs.
Kennaird. "Is is he in Saltravia?"
"I believe he is in Munich now, though
there's a report that he will be back next
- eek lor tne great royal ball at the palace.
Pray, do you Know him?"
"i'es. Yes, I'e met him. He's a a
New Yorker, you know."
"True. I suppose you've met him in
society over there in the Tour Hundred,'
as they call it. "
"Ye's," said Mrs. Kennaird, feeling a
little dizzy and hardly knowing just what
answer left her lips. "Quite right It er
was in the 'Four Hundred," as you sav."
"Such a queer name, isn't it?" babbled
Miss Jerningham. "We can't get used to
it, you know. There was nothing of that
sort when we were there."
"Oh, ves, there was." her listener might
mentally have said, "only you know noth
ing about it" But Mrs. Kennaird was in
no mood for any such 'comments, whether
mute or vocal. "And so this Alonzo Lis
penard," she presently faltered, "holds a
position here under the King,"
"Oh, yes, Art Superintendent, you know.
Eric Thaxter, the adored friend of Clari
mond, took it away trom us tnai is, l
mean from my brother and gave it (with
the King's full sanction) to this Mr. Lis
penard." "I see I see."
"Pray, is it true." continued Miss Jer
ningham, "that he was engaged to a beauti
ful girl in New York who iilted him the
moment she heard he'd lost all his money?"
"Beally, I think it is quite false," mur
mured Mrs. Kennaird. She got away from
the villa as soon as decent politeness would
permit The late afternoon made the ex
quisitely tended and statuted lawns in front
of the hotel look like squares and medall
ions of dark-green plush, from an immense
Japanese pagoda that, burned with as mauy
tints as if it bad been builded out of a
fallen rainbow, floated music made by one
of the most perfect orchestras in Europe.
Kathleen in a plain, dove-colored gown,
without a single ornament of any kind,
moved here and there amid the arabesque of
box-edged paths, holding a book against one
side of her bosom, as women are w ont todo.
She seemed wholly unaware of the attention,
rven the scrutiny, which she attracted,
though she wa3 perhaps perfectly well aware
of it and preferred to appear otherwise.
She had known no ore at thehotel, on her
arrival, and afterward had desired complete
isolation. The new acquaintanceships into
which her mother had drifted were not
shared by her; she remained calmly though
not haughtily aloof.
When Mrs. Kennaird now drew near the
great square, over which loomed the light
and pretty lacade of the chief hotel, she at
once perceived that Kathleen was being a
great deal noticed and silently admired.
"Little wonder, too," it swept through her
mind; "for as she walks there now her form
and face seem to embodr this delightful
thing of Chopin's that His Majesty's rau-
K
- ntfisw
I sicians are playing so finely." And then
' lf. TT......... ...1 ............ ..I... .3 l..v dnrthtol"
11.13. OXUiltlUlIU UUJ'I UUtUCU UCl ",".'.
But before she could reach her side, old
Mrs. Madison, with wrinkled face, gouty
step and a cane bis enough for a British
squire, beet bv the same malady as herself,
came hobblinglv forward.
"My dear Mrs. Kennaird! I don't know
, how I can stay any longer in Saltravia un
less you present me to vour uaugnten t
isn't only that four or five young men ara
always tormenting me for a presentation to
her, knowing that 1 know you. It's, that
lots of tiresome old persons like myself, of
whichever sex, make mv life a burden with
their longings." Here Mrs. Madison shook
her head, and so briskly that the gold
rimmed glasses trembled on her high, clear
curving nose. "Ah, Mrs. Kennaird, it's
we old things that are the wisest lapidaries
for pronouncing on the color and water of
that dearest of all diamonds, youth!"
"My daughter will be charmed to meet
vou, and your friends also, my dear Mrs.
Madison, of course," was the reply given
by Kathleen's mother. But while she stood
and strove to talk blandly with this old
alienated Knickerbocker (for who could for
get that the Madisons were leading people
in the Tialmv davs of the Van Leriuses, and
that a Madison once married a Van Lerius
as far back as 1795?) she was secretly throb
"bing with discomfort and chagrin.
Alonzo Lispenard here in Saltravial And
not only that, but on terms of special favor
with the King! It was ruin of all those de
licious hopes! For the very moment that
he heard Clarimond had admired Kathleen
what would he be sure to do? Prejudice his
roval friend, beyond a doubt, against both
herself and her child. Oh, it was too aggra
vating, too maddening!
When she reached Kathleen Mrs. Ken
naird grasped the girl's wrist with a tremor
and force that instantly betrayed her
trouble.
"My dear Kathleen," she began, 'haye
such wretched news."
"Wretched news, mamma?"
"Yes; don't stare at me. Everybody, I
hear, is staring at yon. Therel I won't
clutch you in that idiotic style any mora.
You you know, my. dear, that I I have
alwavs prided mvseff on my repose."
"Well, mamma?"
"Let's walk along quietly toward the
hotel, as if nothing had happened. I've
just heard from Mrs. Madison that your
wonderful beauty and grace have set every
body talking about you."
"And is that all that has happened?"
Kathleen asked, with a decided languor."
"So. I onlv wish it were! My dear child,
where did you think Alonzo Lispenard had
gone after after the breaking of your en
gagement? Don't look demoralized, now!
Answer me!"
Kathleen had visibly started, and her
change of color was manifest "Gone?" she
repeated. ""I heard that he was here in
Europe. You remember, mamma. Some
thing was said about an Austrian Grand
Duke having wanted him to purchase works
of art for his private gallery. But I never
believed the report It was never con
firmed. I "
"Kathleen! Believe the report now, If
you choose!"
"Believe it, mamma!"
"Yes. But change the Austrian Grand
Duke to a a Saltravian King."
Kathleen looked fixedly at her mother
for several seconds as they moved still
nearer to the steps of the hotel. When she
spoke it was clearly to show that she had
in a measure understood.
"Alonzo is here?" she faltered. "Yon
mean that?"
"He lives here, and lives under the very
wing, so to speak, of Clarimond. It seem
that his friend, Erij Thaxter, sent for him
to come on here after the failure." Then
Mrs. Kennaird gave a few further explana
tions which ended by the time they reached
the huge enclosed balcony of the hotel and
ascended the steps. Kathleen sank into a
chair, not trembling, but lookiog as if
tremors might at any moment begin.
"We must go away from here, mamma,"
she presently said, glancing up into her
mother's face while that lady stood in placid
grandeur beside her. "We must go at
once."
"Oh, now, mv dear Kathleen Yon surely
won't be so foolish "
"He will think we came solely on his ac
count" "But I tell yon he isn't here." ,
"Still, he may return any hour. Ko,
mamma; I will not stay. Let us go to Vall-
ambrosa to-morrow, we intended going
there, you know, when you suddenly got
this craze for Saltravia."
Mrs. Kennaird tightened her lips togeth
er, stared straight ahead, and gave not a
syllable of response. Oh, of course Kath
leen must have her own way! It would be
folly to keep her here against her will, for
that will had modes "of making itself felt
which coercion sooner or later failed to
profit by. And to think that the presence
of this detestable Alonzo should shatter
such a lordly edifice of shining and pris
matic dream! Ah, it was too harrowing! In
a certain sense Kathleen was right; the
horrid creature might think she had come
here because of him, though any thrills of
dignity ou the subject would have been
idle if it were not that this bugbear was
actually an intimate of the Kirnr. In that
abominated capacity he was fate appointed,
as one might tay, to head herself and her
daughter oil" Scalding tears of ire and dis
appointment gathered to the eyes of Kath
leen's mother while she stood and watched
the spacious hotel grounds dotted with
strollers and sweeping on toward the
palace, white and splendid against
its dark green mountain side. She had
raised her handkerchief to brush away the?e
fiery tears if in reality they should" show
signs of falling, when a kind of flurry
among the people on the laurels made her
curious to learn its cause. This soon be
came plain, as she discerned a group at
some distance away, headed by a man of'
noble and gracious presence. She had seen
Clarimond a day or two ago, on the occasion
when Kathleen had so evidently won his
heed, and once having seen, it was not easy
to forget him. She now leaned down and
murmured to Kathleen:
"The King, my dear. And I think he is
coming this way."
"Le't us go upstairs, mamma," said Kath
leen, rising. "Or will you remain here and
shall XT'
The words died on her lips, for just then
old Mrs. Madison came puffing up the steps
w iiu u uuuu cuueuiau ui binkiDg appear
ance at'her side. "Mrs. Kennaird," called
the old lady, "I couldn't stand the pressure
of circumstances any longer. I'm compelled
to beg of you that you'll make me acquaint
ed with vour lovely daughter, so that I can
can appease the longings of Mr. Erie Thax
ter, who is resolved to know her or die."
"Mr. Thaxter certainly shall not die
without knowing Kathleen," said Mrs.
Kennaird, in her most dulcet tones. And
then there was an exchange of introductions
gone through quietly and quickly, as most
well-bred persons manage to deal with such
matters.
Kathleen, who was one of those women
made even more interestingly beautiful by
weariness and pain, at once found herself
liking Eric Thaxter. It had all come hack
to her that he had been "Lonz's foreign
friend," and for this reason he was now
clad with a peculiar enticement While
Mrs. Madison bowed over her cane and held
converse with Mrs. Kennaird, the girl, low
voiced and spurred by a desperate sort of
frankness, addressed Eric
"I've just heard, Mr. Thaxter," she said,
"that Mr. Lispenard lives here, and with
vou."
"Yes," replied Eric, "but at present"
"He is in Munich. I've heard that, too.
The whole piece of intelligence has given
me great annoyance. I take for granted
that he has told you of of our broken en
gagement" "Yes, Miss Kennaird, he did tell me."
Prepared though she somehow was for
this candid reply, its gentle delivery sent
the rose-tints flying into her face. Her
eyes moistly sparkled as she fixed them on
Eric's. "Oh, I'm so sorry mamma and I
should have come here!" she exclaimed,
though? with a softness of tone that de
feated her moth'er's thirsting ear. 'We
never dreamed that he was here. I
think nobody in New York except
perhaps his sister, ilrs. Van Sant
voord, really knew just where he had
gone." Then she dropped her gaze for an
instant, and while she aid so her observer
had, as he himself might have phrased it,
THE
artistically explained her. "The face for a
i Psyche," passed through his mind, "and all
' the more entrancing because nature has
' gifted her with that divinest of charms the
incessant lorgetiuiness mat sne is su uraun
fuh She doesn't think in the least about
the divinity of her profile. Self-consciousness,
the curse of most feminine beauty, has
mercifully spared her. A woman likethat,
who treats herself as if she were a spinster
of 60. with defective front teeth and a hairy
mole on her chin, becomes an nnconscious
goddess, i I don't wonder Lonz adores her
still, and I don't wonder Clarimond is ask
ing to know her.
But aloud Erio said, with his native
affable bluffness: "My dear Miss Kennaird,
it's not a very mighty planet, after alL
Don't bore yourself about Alonzo's prox
imity. When he knows that you've honored
Saltravia with your presence, he will prob
ably be quite too ashamed of his past mis
conduct to let you get the faintest glimpse
of him. Oh, I know iust how atrociously
he behaved. He's told, me, and I've scolded
him without pity."
Kathleen bit her lip and watched the
speaker for an instant with searching and
wistful eves.
"He's told you?" she breathed. "But if
you don't think me to blame at all, Mr.
Thaxter, he he must have given you a very
generous version of the whole affair.
Then she drew herself up, and with almost
a lofty c&lmless went on: ."But we are go
ing to-morrow. We have decided to push
on toward Vallambrosa. No doubt you
know it They say it is so delightful, and
very quiet there. Betirement is what I
most care for, just now."
"Betirement?" echoed Erie, with a mock
gesture of despair. "And here I am, Miss
Kennaird, come to you as an envoy from
the King, who greatly desires the pleasure
of your acquaintance. "
Perhaps Eric had without intention loud
ened his voice a little. Anyway, Mrs.
Kennaird.heard all that he had just said,
and, considering the fact that Mrs. Madison
had a minute ago uttered certain tidings of
a most exhilarant sort to her, she was now
suddenly transported once more with hope
ful surprise.
S 'My'dear," she said to Kathleen, as the
latter'drew backward several steps, with a
distinct show of reluctance, .even depreca
tion, "I trust that if Mr. Thaxter wishes to
present you to the King you will not hesi
tate to accompany him."
But here Eric shook his head, and broke
into a light laugh.
"Miss Kennaird needs not to accompany
me bv any means." said he. 'If vou will
I merely walk with her down toward this
little fountain where the bronze tritons are,
I will bring the King to her."
Mrs.Kennaird caught her daughter by the
wrist She was excessively agitated, and
showed it, to the great secret amusement of
Eric
"Do you hear, my love?" she almost
stammered. "The the King is to be
brought to you!"
Half descending the steps which ha had
lately mounted, and removing his hat as he
did so, Eric answered in tones of courtesy as
tranquil as tuey were careless:
"Oh, I assure you, King Clarimond never
permits a lady to bo presented to him. He's
very royal, if you please, in other ways, but
that is not one of them."
Pale, and inwardly quivering, Mrs.jKen
naird still held her daughter's wrist At
Eric passes down the lawn, her voice, with
brisk staccato whisper, shot into Kathleen
ear. It conveyed but four words, yet these
were pregnant with an intensity of desire
and demand:
"Come 1 Come, at once I
To be conlinutd next BtmSafJ
A bricht girl who is fating a special
course in natural science in one of the
woman's colleges has elevated her opinion of
humankind considerably since she began
her studies. "Talk about the wickedness of
human beings!" she wrote back home, not
long ago, "it isn't a circumstance to the In
iquity of these lower orders. Why, in
watching some of tha Amceba under the
glass I've seen the whole ten commandments
go to smash in a single half hour. Their
wickedness may be miscroscopical hut it's
awful. Whole families are aten by some
one enterprising member, they steal each
others wives and children and lie and rob
and practice polygamy and they're slyer
than lots of people, toe I'm going to study
cells next term and I expect to find pro
toplasm the-most depraved substance yet J
believe what' theologian's call original sin in
people must be nothing but protoplasm
working."
It is proverbial th at a man must ask his
wife's leave to thrive. It is quite as true
that a woman must ask her husband's leave
to -be bright and amiable Sugar by fer
mentation turns to acetio acid. "The
sweetest soul that ever looked through
human eyes." will turn sharp and bitter
nnder the ferment of rasping marital criti
cism. Two women spoke of a third; said one
enthusiastically:. "Age cannot wither her
nor custom stale her infinite variety."
"True," murmured the other. "In the
last census report she is set down as just
two years younger than her eldest son, and
her life's .'story I've heard it half a dozen
times, and it's always a romance and always
a new one."
If yon value yonr youthful looks, dress
five years beyond your real age. Yonr
wardrobe more than aught else should take
time by the forelock. The gay trappings
of 16 go marvelously ill with gray hairs and
the wearer of them is a sorry spectacle for
gods, men or the observing sex.
Nothing is so underbred as quarreling, to
say nothing of the waste of nervous energy,
and there is neither honor nor profit in it
If your adversary is a woman she can heal
her self-esteem of your sharpest stabs in a
bath of tea and tears. The manliness of a
manly man puts him at a cruel, dumb dis
advantage a coward can always shelter be
hind your womanhood. It is much better
to resent insolence or positive hurt with
fine freezing courtesy than with the most
clamorous sarcasm or the most hysterio
sobs.
..
There is a story that a testy old land
holder in the District of Columbia often
said to our first President when he was
planning the Citv of Magnificent Distances:
"Mr. Washiugton, I'd like to know what
you would have amounted to if you hadn't
married the Widow Curtis." Certainly
marriage with the wealthy widow helped
the handsome young soldier to the leader
ship in his province that afterward flowed
into the command of armies, and gave in
dependence to a nation.
A
Strive to keep these things clear: your
eyes, your complexion, your conscience;
these things soft: your hair, your hands,
your heart; these things clean: your lips,
your name, your mind.
A
To know how to ride a horse, to shoot a
gun and to tell the truth: once that was
held to make the education of a gentleman,
and it is still a very good foundation for
modern flourishes.
A
The lady managers of the World's Fair
are already receiving most astonishing let
ters applying for space in the Woman's
Building. The mother of three pairs of
twins has written to say that she thinks she
is entitled to recognition, and. she would
like to have a crayon drawing of her off.
spring exhibited. She also desires to know
in what department she ought to have the
exhibit go.
9fc JjBKk'aUjjgHK !ifffM 'i'lfi'ralflffiSfliffli liLi'iMfi"!'
PITTSBTmG- DISPATCH,
A HERMIT OF' FAME.
Ono of the Sons of John Brown, at
His Quiet Home on Lake Erie.
HE LUES IH THE HISTORIC PAST.
The Family True to the Memory of the
Hero of Harper's Ferry.
LETTEB OP 1 CONFEDERATE BOLDIEB
rcoBKXsroxpcxcx or TBS distatcxj
Put-in-Bat, Lake Erie, Noy.6. "lea,
this is Mr. Brown," said a strang'ely pic
turesque character, as he stood by his load
of gathered fruit which he was making
ready for market "I am the son of John
Bown, of Ossawattomie, and the only one
of the race living this side of the Bocky
Mountains."
The speaker is an old man with white hair
and whiskers; but his eye is so clear, his
step so elastic and his speech so full of vigor
that I marvel after all his years and won
derful experiences that his powers are so
strong and complete.
"I live on and enjoy these acres and the
products they bear," he continued. "In
my retirement I look back upon the events
of the past with which my family name is
connected with a mingled feeling of pride
and sorrow. My father's memory is to me
very sacred. His life and history is also a
reverence to us alL There are seven of us
left, four women and three men. All of
them live in California except myself. I
have dwelt on this island almost ever since
the tragedy at Harper's Ferry, and expect
to as long as I live."
Fat-ln-Bay In the Fall.
What a strange experience I have had
this afternoon on the Island of Put-in-Bay
in Lake Erie, the largest and most import
ant, I believe, of those specks of land in its
blue waters which are found between San
dusky and Detroit The fruit season is just
closing, and the frosts of fall have turned
the leaves of the trees and of the vineyards
a strange yellow color. The very last of
the fall fruit is being gathered as I come by
accident upon one of the oldest of the sons
of John Brown, and the one who bears his
father's name. He is a most intelligent
man and stands by his family record with a
dignity that makes one feel an interest in it
and him, no matter what may be his views
of the past
"I am more than content with the judg
ment the country has made up of the events
of 1859. They demanded much of life and
death; but both were made without hesita
tion by those who were called upon to act
Look at the evidence of these tacts. My
father's grave at North Elba, in the interior
JbJm Brown's House.
of New York, is visited every year by
thousands of people who believe that in his
attempt to destroy slavery he did to the full
his duty as he saw it No man does great
things without great sacrifices, and my
parent .was no exception to the rule. His
family shared his ambitions and are proud
of his record. Despite the loss of a noble
father, who imparted his spirit and his pur
pose to all his children, we have lived to
see his idol completed by other hands.
The Recovery ot Watson's Body.
"Brother Watson, who was killed with
him at Harper's Ferry, or rather mortally
wounded, is, you know, buried by his side,
and there is a touching story connected with
my recovery ot his remains. They were
spirited away from the place where he died,
and were not discovered for somo years
nfterward. One day I received a letter from
adoctor in Martinsville, Ind., informing me
that they were in a medical school at Jefier
sonville in the Hoosier State. I went down,
found the identification complete, and the
officers of the school surrendered the body
to me without question. They were well
preserved, and were bein-j used a an an
atomical specimen for the education of
young doctors. I brought them North and
buried them beside my father, because I
thought it fitting that the two men of our
family who fell at the inception of the war
which destroyed slavery should rest side by
side.
"It is a good many years since these
events at Harper's Ferry, and I have had
many queer experiences in relation to them.
Only a few years ago I received a letter
from a Confederate soldier, who was in or
about the combat my father had in Vir
ginia. His letter was yery frank and gen
erous. A Letter to a Confederate.
"I preserved it carefully among the many
missives which I have received since the
war. My reply to that letter will indicate
its spirit, for I have not the message at
hand this moment. Here it is:
Pct-w-Bay, Lake Emr,
hi, )
r. O , '
879. S
uitawa u.oustt.
Juxe 18, 1879.
Deak Sib "One tonch of nature makes tha
whole world kin." Thoe words expressed
my thoughts, as I read your letter of the
15th Inst, giving some of vour own recollec
tions of my father and brother Watson at
the close of the assault at Harper s Ferry.
You "uided my father to rise as he stumbled
fornaid ont of the engine house." You
"Improvised a couch out of a bench with a
air of overalls for a pillow for my dying
i other, and you gave him & cup of water to
quench his thirst, which won jou his
thanks-" His th 4nks were, I know, sincere,
for his was a soul of sincerity. Will you not
with equal faith accept mine, and not only
mv own. but on behalf of all mv lather's
family! Thonch you aie a "South Carolinian
ana cook part on tne siue oi tne south tn the
late war," this is no barrier to our sympathy
and lespect for you as a man who was
faithful to his convictions. My ather,
brothers and comrades who fell at'Harpei's
Ferry did not liate the people of the South,
'twas only toward her slavery that they
cherished a sacied animosity. It may seem
to Southern people paradoxical, and yet I
know that the South never had truer friends
than those she then considered her direst
foes. When that day comes, as come it will,
in which the whits people of the
late seceded States shall fully rec
ognize and freely grant to every one
without distinction of color, race or pre
vious condition the rights they claim for
themselves, and which Rre inherent in hu
manity, they will then appreciate the hearts
of the men at Harper's Ferry who would
have risked all for them, had the uttimtinn
been reversed.
Waiting with somo Interest the publica
tion of your reminiscences, and hoping
sometime to offer a fraternal hand to you
who gave a cup of. water to my dying
brother when you deemed him an enemy,
I remain.
Yours for the rights of all,
JoHa Bbowtt, Jr.
A Lost Not Without Its Return.
"As you may imagine it was a touching
letter that brought out this reply from me,
for it was such an evidence of how the ani
mosities of the war have softened with
years, that I felt that our losses were not
without return. I have many more con
tributions to the history of that time; but
this one that I have given you is enough to
illustrate how our funiily appreciates the
changed conditions that have come upon
the country since 1859, and through them
gather iresh reverence every year for our
lather's memory. He gave a noble life for
a mighty sentiment The cost to us was
heavy, but we are horn of a race who be
lieve in giving up the dearest things of life,
and even life itself for the right As for
myself, I do not mingle much with the
'iSPWyjygsSl gpC-JsMarew f.!Sr-y
SUNDAT, NOVEMBER '8
world, except the quiet one I make here
for-myself."
Isn t it strange that in an afternoon of
accidents I should have found Mr. Brown
who bears the name of the remarkable man
who began the war on his own account with
a handful of men.. The son "who bears the
father's name is now past 70 years of age;
buthe is still full of that fire which made
his father such a marked man. I imagine
that he does not look unlike his parent did,
when he died. His little vineyard of seven
acres from which he picksa good
living, unless all the evidences fail, stands
back from the main road some distance, and
John Brown's Little Office.
the house where he lives is just beside the
waters of the lake. All about it are proofs
of neatness and a reasonable degree of pros
perity. Belles or Harper's Ferry. '
After we had chatted for a time we went
down to a seat under the spreading branches
of a tree, and there talked for an hour. Just
to the left of us was a little office facing the
house, in which the veteran preserves tha
relics of the contest at the little Virginia
town at the junction of the Potomac and
Shenandoah rivers, that has made his family
name famous the world oyer. In it are
books, manuscrips, and even some of the
arms that were used at Harper's Ferry.
Mr. Brown keeps the small building as a
sort of workshop, where he may live
among the memories sacred to his father.
To pore over the mysteries of that place,
and delve among the written things he has
preserved would be worth much; ,but he is
keeping them all for a family record, and I
can say nothing more about them, than that
when they are given to the public, romance
and tragedy will be so mingled as to attract
any mind.
"Yes, my sister Buth, who lives in Cali
fornia, is preparing a sort of sketch or me
morial volume about the events of 1859 and
those that preceded and follow ed it She
may not write a large book, but a good part
of her life has been spent in gathering up
the threads of that time, and when her
volume is printed the world will have some
new facts in relation to John Brown. I do
not know how they will be received, for it
has moved so rapidly since those days that
it is hard to say what will interest those of
the present generation. But I am getting
evidences every day, that thought about the
cause my father espoused, and his family
who tried to help him carry it out, is not
dead."
"Were you in the fight at Harper's
Ferry?"
Enlisting Recruits In Canada.
"No. I had been sent by my father to
Canada to enlist the active support of the
better class of colored men who had escaped
from bondage in fact, to recruit soldiers
for the cause. I had been quite successful,
and had just returned to onr home in Ash
tabula county,intending to rejoin my father
near the scene of action, when the combat
took place. It was not his intention to make
the attack for some months after he did, but
a traitor in his party forced him to move
quickly and without proper preparation.
He was a very ardent man, who knew no
fear, and hence when the emergency arose
he never hesitated to act
"We have profound respect for his mem
ory, and have never looked upon his like
since he went to his grave. You will re
member, perhaps, that the movements upon
the armory at Harper's Ferry resulted in a
Congressional investigation, wnicn was
managed by Mr. Mason, of Mason and Sli-
dell fame. They nnlertook to take me to
Washington to testify. They even sent a
deputy marshal after me, but I refused to
go. I knew what my presence in Washing
ton would mean, and remained at home. I
took no part in the war, except to go to
Kansas and join one of the border regiments
for a time.
Doesn't Balse Grapes for Wine.
"Let me see. It was early in 1862 that I
came to this island and settled on this little
patch of land to raise fruit I have led a
very secluded life, attending to my vine
yard and gathering my grapes. See, I have
a wagonload almost ready for the Detroit
John Brown, Jr.
boat, where I have sent all of my product
for years.. I never sell a pound of mygrow
ng for wine."
"You will excuse my farmer's garb," said
he, as we walked along; "but I like it and it
fits my business."
We parted at the gate by the main road,
and I walked toward the little wooden town
which is called Put-in-Bay. An hour later,
just as I was finding my way to the dock
where the big steamers land for Detroit,
Cleveland, Toledo and Sandusky, I met Mr.
Brown again just under the spreading
branches of the willow tree which marks
the spot where are buried Perry's men, who
fell in the memorable battle on Lake Erie,
j hen the old Commodore sent the ringing
message to the Government that has been
cast in letters of gold: "We have met the
enemy and they are ours."
We gossiped a little about the history of
this spot where we were standing,and as we
parted he said kindly: '"Come and see me
again, if you ever come this way."
' FSAKE A. BUBB.
A MlnUter Saves the .Life ot a Neighbor.
Mr. Isaac Snyder, a neighbor of mine, had
an attack of the colic, rnd was wishing only
that he could die. I gave him two doses of
Chamberlain's Colic, Cholera and Diarrhcra
Remedy, and in a short time he was entirely
relieved. No family should bo without so
valuab r a medicine. John S. Bakee,
Even- Bedford county, Pa. wsu
Household goods packed for shipment
HATCH &"KEEKAir, 33 Water street
Su
4 W 3
1891
HOUKS. OF SICKNESS
Do Hot Pasa Swiftly, So Patients Have
Lots of Time to Think.
SOME DIFFERENCE IN THINKING.
The Est. George Hodges PreierflMi Pour
Spiritual Hedlclnet.
HOTT TBOUBLE OFTEN INDS DT GOOD
pnUTTET FOB TOT DI3PATCH.1
It is altogether likely that everybody
within the reach of this sermon will some
day be sick. It is not everybody, however,
who knows how to be sick. It is a great
thing to know how to he sick.
The sickroom is a battlefield, and the fight
that is fought there is not only a physical
one; it is a spiritual combat also. And
battles go, for the most part, to the best
prepared contestant It has again and again
been found that readiness counts for more
than numbers. The Germans beat the
French in their last war because they had a
general who planned out all the battles he
forehand, and had every detail looked after
and was perfectly ready.
If we are all going to be sick, let us learn
how to be sick. And the best time to learn
that is now while we are wclL There is
not much use preaching to sick people. It
is a great deal better to preach to the sick
people before they begin to get sick.
XeUnro Is a Iiost Art
Now, sickness gives almost everybody a
chance to think. Somehow a good many
people are so busy in this hurrying life that
they seem fo get no time for thought There
is not half an hour in the whole day when
there is not something to be done, and done
right off. The whole attention is taken up
with a succession of business cares or house
hold duties. Our modern life is lived on a
perpetual run. Never had any people so
many time-saving appliances as we have,
and never has any people had less leisure
time. We spend all that we save. Leisure
is a word for whose meaning we consult the
dictionary. We read about it with curios
ity in old books. It is one of the lost arts.
There is plenty of thinking, but it is ap
plied almost entirely to the visible and the
temporary. There is little opportunity to
consider the great truths of the human life.
What are we here for? Where are we go
ing? We hardly stop to ask. And if we
sometimes question with old Pilate, what
is truth? the chances are that we follow
Pilate's example, and stay not for an
answer. We have hardly time to say our
prayers.
Spiritual Value ot Sickness.
Now, in the midst of this unending hustle
and bustle, in the midst of this noisy life,
comes the angel of sickness, and we are led
away out of it all, away from the sight and
hearing ot it, into a quiet room where we
can think. And what shall we think about?
The spiritual value of our sickness depends
upon the answer to that question. We may
go out of our sick room as we would go out
of a prison, hating every remembrance of it,
counting onr confinement as just so many
weeks stolen from ns out of our life. Or
we may go ont as a victorious soldier goes
from the field of triumph, wounded and
broken, and weak and weary, but with his
heart glad in the consciousness of a good
fight bravely and successfully fought; or as
a devout soul departs from the still sanc
tuary, with the glow in his face reflected
from the face of God, and who goes out
now in thestrength of that blessed meeting,
helped and uplifted, to uplift and help his
brother men.
The difference is very largely a difference
in thinking. Meditation is the soul's medi
cine. If we take no medicine, or if we take
the wrong kind of medicine the soul will
suffer for it, like the body. It is of im
mense importance to know the right thoughts
to think when one is sick.
Four Spiritual Medicines.
I would prescribe four kinds of spiritual
medicine meditation upon the love of God,
and upon the sympathy of Christ, and upon
the fact of sin, and npon the fact of the
shortness and uncertainty of human life.
God loves us. Sometimes it is pretty
hard to believe thai in the midst of pain.
But the great spiritual heroes, and saints,
and doctors of the old time, who were closer
to God than we are, and knew God better
than we do, declared that suffering was
even a sign of the great love of God. It is
not necessary, I think, to emphasize the
authority of Peter, and John and Paul. It
is plain enough to see that they were mas
ters in tliat realm of knowledge where mas
tery depends on spiritual sympathy and
appreciation and character, where spiritual
things are spiritually discerned, and where
one cannot see at all unless he first be born
from above. They knew as much about
pain as we do, they had sufficient exper
ience of it in their hard lives, and they
knew 1,000 times more about God than we
do. And they said that human pain has
somehow a close relation to the divine
fatherhood. "My son, despise not thou the
chastening of the'Lord, nor faint when thou
art rebuked of him; for whom the Lord
loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every
son whom He receiveth. If ye endure
chastening God dealeth with you as with
sons."
Understanding the Father.
In different words and different ways,
they all taught that And unless we know
more about the heavenly Father, and are
closer to him and understand him better
than they, we will do best, it seems to me
simple to accent that
"Lord, he whom Thou Iovest is sick."
That message, which is forever being car
ried by word, or letter, o'i" telegram, hither
and thither among the sons of men bringing
consternation and foreboding with it, came
once to Christ
"He whom thou Iovest is sick." And we
know that Christ was all the time healing
the sick. Would he suffer it, then, that bis
best friend should be sick? Would he not
hasten at once and heal him? Instead of
that, he stayed on where he was; and Lazarus
got worst and worse day after day, and
finally died. And yet Lazarus was so dear
a friend to Jesus that they did not need to
speak his name when they brought the news
of his sickness but deemed it enough to say
"he whom Thou Iovest" is sick, knowing
that the Master would understand. So a
man could be the dearest personal friend of
Christ, and yet be sick, and die.
The Answer to Onr Prayers.
In the case of Lazarus we have not only
the first chapter of the story, but the last
We can read it all the way through. And
we can see how Jesus withheld the lesser
blessing of recovery only that He might
grant the greater blessing of new life. The
story breaks off in the middle, in our
human experience of sickness and death.
We read only the sad part of it. We see
Christ standing afar off, and seeming to pay
no heed to prayer. They whom we love are
sick, and death comes, and the bleising is
hidden from our eye3. But thebles'ing fol
lows. And our prayers are answered, if we
could but know it, not as we asked, but in
finitely better.
Sickness is only the beginnin? of God's
dealings with our souls. We are reading
the first chaper in the sick room, and what
the next chapter will be we know not, ex
cept that our Heavenly Father means that
it shall be a new life somehow. The first
thing is to trust him, to rely unreservedly
npon his infinitely wise and infinitely tender
love, to say over and over toourselves,"God
is my father,God is caringfor me, and doing
the best with me, and making ready a
blessing to give me. The Father loves me.".
That will help us to be patient
the Divine Sympathy.
And God knows. That is the next thing
to think about. God was in Christ, taking
our flesh upon Him, meeting our tempta
tions, bearing our sorrows, making acquaints
ance with pain. We have not an high priest,
who cannot be touched with the feeling of
1
onr infirmities. We can be sure in our sick
ness not only of the love of the Heavenly
Father, but of the sympathy of the Son.
Our Lord represented himself to us in the
gospel as the Good Shepherd. And one of
the duties of the shepherd in that Syrian
country was to lead the sheep. He never
drove the sheep. He went on at the head of
them and they followed." And so wherever
they went he had gone before. All the hard
and steep and thorny paths he had himself
walked in.
It is a great thing to feel that God under
stands us. One of the supreme blessings of
the incarnation, of the revelation of God
here in human flesh Is that it assures us of
the understanding, of the perfect sympathy,
of God. It is wonderful to have'God love
ns, but it is wonderfully unspeakable to
have God down here on our human level,
putting Himself in our place, making Him
self man.
The Story Hot a New One.
God knows all that sick people have to
suffer, knows just how hard it is. All the
manifold discomforts of the sickroom, all
the painful weariness and the hourly strain
upon the patience, and the slow creeping of
the minute hand on its interminable journey
around the figures of the clock, all the
anxieties of the long day and the worries of
the sleepless night, all the headaches and
the heartaches, and the feeling that every
thing is going wrong in the house or getting
twisted at the office, and that we ought to be
up, and that we are so weak that it tires us
even to think of getting up all that is
known to God. Every bit of it had its like
ness somewhere in the Ijfe of Jesus.
As for downright pain, God knows what
that means. The cross testifies to that He
who hung there in the darkness, thorns
upon His forehead, marks of the scourge cut
deep into His shoulders, nails through His
hands and through His feet, suffering torture
of body and desolation of soul, is able to
have sympathy. The cross is the symbol of
the sympathy of God.
Accordingly, the last chapter of the
gospels are good reading in the sick room,
and Good Friday is a good day to think
about We will do well in the midst of
pain to fix our attention upon that scene of
Calvary, to take Christ as our example in
the endurance of suffering, and to realize
how much closer His pain and our pain
brings us together.
The Fellowship of Suffering.
I met a good old man the other day who
told me he was a Methodist, a "shouting
Methodist," and yet that he would like to
see a crucifix in every church. Probably
he would like to have a picture of thecruci
fixion hung in every sick room. It is not
unlikely that we have lost something in
putting away out of the sight of our
Protestant eyes that old, impressive, strik
ing symbol of the love and sympathy of
God. Jesus suffered as we suffer. And so
he knows. We get into the fellowship of
His sufferings through the door of the sick
room. He comes day by day tojbe more to
ns more hopeful, more near, more neces
sary, more beloved.
The cross, however, has a message about
sin as well as a message about sympathy.
And that is tte next thing that we will do
well to thins: about when we are sick.
First, the love of God, and then the sympa
thy of Christ, and then the fact of sin.
Sickness always means sin. Directly or in
directly, it is always the outgrowth of sin.
If there had h,een no sin there would have
been no sickness in the world. The sick
ness may be the consequence of somebody
else's sin. So closely are the lines of hu
man lives intertwisted and tangled that if
one member of the great human family suf
fers other members suffer with it, and if one
commits sin the evil effects of that sin reach
out and touch others than the sinner.
Worst Punishment of Sickness.
That is one of the fearful things about sin,
that it not only destroys the happiness of
the sinner, hut it strikes a sword through the
hearts of his best friends, and poisons thej
lives of his innocent children. Sickness is
always the punishment of some kind of sin.
But it is one of God's punishments; and
that means that it comes out ot love, not
out of anger; and that is not the reaching
ont of the hand of God to strike us, but, in
stead of that, is just the natural and inevit
able consequence which is attached to sin
like a shadow. It follows sin as a shadow
follows him that walks in the sun.
In sickness, accordingly, is a good time
for a man to think about his sins. We get
away out of our common course of life; we
are set for a time quite on the outside of it,
where we can see it What sort of a life is
it? What kind of days have we been spend
ing? At what purposes have we been aim
ing? Is it a good life to close up right now
and take with us, as a completed thing, for
the inspection of the Great Judge? And, if
it is not, then how would we better change it?
Sickness suggests self-examination, and
new resolutions. A severe affliction be-
fins a new era in a man's existance. If he
as been living in the Dark Ages, now is a
good time for the Beformation.
The Anticipation of the End.
And. with this, comes in that fourth oc
cupation which I suggested, the meditation
of the sick person upon the shortness and
uncertainty of human life. Everybody
who is sick thinks about death. He may
not say anything about it, but there it is, a
dread thought in the background ot ni3
mind getting always more and more in the
foreground some day, in some sickness, I
must die. Every sickness awakens the
consciousness of that inevitable destiny of
man. And we wonder if it will be this
time or the next?
Death is probably much more dreadful in
the anticipation thii- in the reality. , We
shrink from it, partly because it is the
entrance upon an unknown and solitary
journey; partly because it is a separation
Between us and those who are dearer to us
than the life itself; partly, with some, be
cause it takes us out of our pleasant houses,
as Johnson said to Garrick when he saw the
delightful rooms he lived in, "Ah, David,
these are the things that make death terri
ble;" and then, beside all this, is the con
sciousness of sin. That is true which St
Paul said: "The sting of death is sin."
Happy are they who can go on and finiih
the sentence "But thanks be to God who
giveth the victory, through our Lord Jesus
Christ"
A Thought That Interprets lAIe.
We think of death in quiet moments in
the sick room, and it interprets life. The
thought gives somehow a different meaning
to all the entries in our old journals and
changes our ordinary estimations of value.
Much that seems great, seems very small
looked at from the point of view of death.
Money and society, gain and pleasure, our
old anxieties about our dress and our dinner
these things interest us and are of im
portance to us to-day. But they who look
back, as we, all must sometimes, with one
hand in the hand of death, set, no doubt, a
different value upon all these things. It is
no longer a question with them about the
pleasures they possess down here; they are
a great deal more interested about the
credit they will find up above in the books
of Heaven. What they have, will then
matter-nothing; what they are, will be the
question ot questions. AVhat they may
have thought about a score of theological
doctrines, for or against them, they will
then utterly forget; only the .
Great Realities Are of Concern
to him who looks away from all the wrang
ling disputation into the eternal future. He
wants a faith that he can stand on. He
Wants to be sure of a Heavenly Father, and
a personal Redeemer, and a life beyond.
Alas, for him, if he can only reach out,
empty handed, into the empty air, and tako
but a tragic leap into the dark.
"Lord, teach us to think that wc must
die," prayed a good man, "that we may be
wise." We ought to go out of th'e sick
room with a new sight, with eyes opened to
see things as they really are, and hence
forth to prize them at their actual values.
It is evident that such a sickness would
be a benediction. Out of such a sickness
we would come into spiritual convalescence,
into health of soul. "It is good for me
that I have been in trouble," wrote one
who had passed through some such benefi
cial experience," that I may learn thy stat
utes." "Before I was troubled, I went
wrong; but now have I kept thy word."
Geoege Hodge.
AS AETinCIAL I702T.
Beoest "Experiments That Seem to Be la
tha Bight Direction.
Natural ivory is composed of trfbasia
phosphate of lime, magnesia, alumina, gela
tine, albumen and calcium carbonate.
Many attempts have been made to make an
artificial substitute, but . until lately they
have proven unsuccessful The Pharm. Era
reports experiments on the line of repro
duction of the natural- product by employ
its natural constituents. The process's,
briefly, to treat quicklime with sufficient
water to convert it to a hydrate, adding to
to it, however, Just before it becomes com
pletely hydrated, an aqueous solution of
phosphoric acid, and while thoroughly stir
ring, incorporating small quantities of cal
cium carbonate, magnesia, and alumina,
and finally the gelatine and albumen dis
solved in water.
Thus is obtained a plastic, intimately
mixed mass, which is set aside to allow com
pletion of the action ot the phosphoric add
upon the chalk. A day later, while tha
mixture is still plastic, it is pressed into the
desired form and dried in a current of air at
about 150 C, and after being kept for
three or four weeks it becomes perfectly
hard. The proportions, which can be col
ored by the addition of suitable substances,
are quicklime, 100 parts; water, 300 partir
phosphoric acid solution (1.05 specifio grav
ity), 75 parts; calcium carbonate, 16 part;
magnesla,l to 2 parts; alumina precipitated,
5 parts; gelatine, 15 parts.
TOgotlatinE a Loan,
Clothier andTarnisher.
Travers See here, that last rait 70a fan
charged me ?50 for, and you know you
never charged me but $45 before.
Tailor Oh, well sir, we won't quarrel orer
such a small matter. I'll give you credit
for the (5.
Travers You don't happen to havf it
abont you, do yon?
The Courtship of a Clerta
Clothier and FnrnUher.
Briggs Did you hear about Miss Orot
grain? She has married a drygoods clerk.
They met, he woo'd and won her, and ae
they were married.
Griggs Why, when did this all happen?
Briggs While she was waiting for the
change.
bating a head may be a good
policy sometimes. But to date back
tradition says that Emperor Charles ,
IV., while deer hunting in Bohemia, ',
j: 1 .t-- r-j.iA c:.. I
uiscoveieu iuc wiuuau unu
This is some 500 years ago. Since
then this place has been the first
health resort in Europe.
Carlsbad has but 12,000 of its own
residents; every summer it has a
population of 45,000, the others com
ing from all parts of the world, to
avail themselves of its wonderful
waters, that are so gifted with healing
power. Goethe, Schiller, Bismarck,
Moltke, emperors, all men of wealth
and station, have found renewed
health here.
Can't go, yon say, on account of
the expense?
Don't need to. The genuine Carls
bad Sprudel Salts answer exactly tho
sanie purpose. Every drug store has
them. The genuine have the signa
ture of "Eisner & Mendelson Co.,
Sole Agents, New York," on the bot
tle. A prominent medical authority
says: "What we positively ascer
tained is, that Carlsbad Sprudel Salts
in a high degree promotes organic
changes in the system; that princi
pally by its alkaline constituents as aa
antacid throughout the organism.and
that it performs this wholesome ac
tion by stimulating, augmenting and
chemically altering the whole process
of secretion." su
10,000
will be paid for a recipe enabling
us to make Wolff's Acme Black
ing at such a price that the retailer
can profitably sell it at 10c. a bottle.
At present the retail price is 20c
This offer Is open until JximxTj lit., xSo For
particulars address the undersigned.
Acme Blacking is made of pure alcohol,
other liquid dressings are made of water.
Water costs nothing. Alcohol is dear. Who
can show us how to make it without alcohol
so that we can make Acme Blacking as cheap
as water dressing, or put it in fancy pack
ages like many of the water dressings, and
then charge for the outside appearance in
stead of charging for the contents of ti
bottle?
WOId""""' & BAUTJOIiPH, PhUadelpai.
PIK-RON
is the name of a paint of which a 25c bctr"
is enough to make six scratched and dolled
cherry chairs look like newly finished ma
hoganies. It will do many other remarkable
things which no other paint can do.
All retailers sell it.
The loss of flesh Is a trifle.
You think you need not
mind it
But, if you go on losing
for some time or lose a good
deal in a short time, you are
running down. Is that a
trifle?
Get back to your healthy
weight and generally you get
back to health.
A book on careful liv
ing will tell you what it is to
get there, and when Scott's
Emulsion of cod-liver oil is
useful. Free.
ScaUBoinn'Ci'asa.t3S9aai3fixAnam,'
Hew York.
Your drogzut keeps Scott's KaroUiaa of cad-Urcr
eU-aU drocgiso ererywaere do. jj.