Sure Cure for Colds m TrCT=SSSSSBSSS==SSSSSSSS====^ When the chi'dren get their feet wet and take cold give them a hot foot bath, a bowl of hot drink, a dose of Ayer's Cherry Pectoral, and put them to bed. They will be all right in the morning. Ayer's Cherry Pectoral will cure old coughs also; we mean the coughs of bronchitis, weak throats, and irritable lungs. Even the hard coughs of consumption are always made easy and are frequently cured. Three sizes: 25c., 59c., SI.OO. If your druggist canuot supply you send us one dollar and we will express a large bottle to you, all charges prepaid. Be sure and give us your nearest express office. Address, J. C. AYBK CO., Lowell, Mass. England's Next War In Egypt. I have good reasons to believe thnt there will be an important expedition Into Kordofan next year. When the Sirdar was in England he npplied for British troops to co-oper ate with the Egyptian army in this enterprise, but was informed that it would be necessary to wait until a large portion of the forces in South Africa could be withdrawn. A powerful chief, with an army placed by some estimates at 100,000 men, is said to be exercising sovereign ty in Kordofan and the territory to the westward of that province, and it is considered essential that his power should be broken. The country through which the ox peditionary force will have to pass Is a most difficult one, but the clearing of the Nile of sudd will facilitate mat ters and enable the army to use the river as a base.—-Assouan correspond ence London Mail. Some men become pessimistic be cause a girl refused tnem, and others develop the same symptoms because she didn't. WHY MRS. PINKHAM Is Able to Help Sick Women "When Doctors Fail. flow gladly would men fly to wo man's aid did they but understand a ■woman's feelings, trials, sensibilities, »od peculiar organic disturbances. Those things are known only to women, and the aid a man would give is n<*t at his command. To treat a case properly it is neces sary to know all about it, and full information, many times, cannot be given by a woman to her family pliy- MRS. G. 11. CiiArrcLL. sician. She canuot bring herself to tell everything, and the physician is at a constant disadvantage. This is why, for the past twenty-live years, thousands of women have been con fiding their troubles to Mrs. Pinkham, and whose advice has brought happi ness and health to countless women in the United States. Mrs. Chappell, of Grant Park, 111., whose portrait we publish, advises all suffering womeu to seek Mrs. Pink ham's advice and use Lydia *E. Pink ham's Vegetable Compound, as they cured her of inflammation of the ovaries and womb ; she. therefore, speaks from knowledge, and h'jr experience ought to give others confidence. Mrs. Pink ham's address is Lynn, Mass., and her advice is absolutely free. LIVER ILLS. 1)b. Hadway A Co., New York: Dear Sirs—l have been alok for nearly two years, and hare been doctoilng wltli »ome of the most expert doctors of tli« United States. I have beea bathing In nnl drinking hot water at the Hot Springs, Ark., but it seemed everything failed to ilo nie Rood. After I hhw your advertisement I thought I would try your pills, and havt. near'y used two bo*«s; been taking two at bedtime and one after breakfast, and they li'ive doue me more good than anythlug else I have used. My trouble has been With the liver. My skin and eyes were all yellow; I had sleepv, drowsv f-ellngs; felt like a drunken man; pain right above thn navel, like lis It It was Idle on top of the stoniueh. My bowels were very costive. My mouth and tongue sore most of the time. Appetite fair, but food would not digest, but settle heavy on my stomach, fiiid some few moutnfuls of food come up again. I could only eat light food that (II t» easily, ('lease seu 1 "Book of Ad« Vic-." ltegpeotfully, URN ZAUUU. Hot Springs, Ark. DADWAY'S II PILLS his. Ssa. * H'i*. HoM tir Drtuilttt or unt »» mall. Bond to lilt. It lim'AV « «'•».. Klm feUcn. New V ark. itu 1) *>k vl Ad tin*. AN UNTOLD LOVE. Oh, the birds sang It And the leaves sighed It, The brooks rang It And the rain cried It, The sun glanced It And the flowers breathed l& The boughs danced It And the buds sheathed It, The stars beamed It And the winds blew It, My heart dreamed It, But—she never knew It! —Madeline 8. Bridges, In Saturday Even ing Bust. I CLARA'S CONVERSION. j "It's your own fault, Clara," said Walter May. "Of course it is," cried out Clara, pas sionately, stamping her foot on the carpet. "Do you suppose 1 don't know it perfectly well? And that is what makes it so hard —oh, so cruelly hard to bear!" The fact was that Mr. and Mrs. Wal ter May had begun life at the wrong end. Clara Calthorpe was a pretty young girl, just out of the hotbed atmosphere of a fashionable boarding school. Wal ter May was a bank clerk who had not the least doubt but that he should ul timately make his fortune out of stocks and bonds. "Clara," he had said to his young wife while the golden circle of the honeymoon was yet overhadowing their lives, "would you like a country life?" "Oh, dear, no!" said Clara, involun tarily recoiling. "Because," said Walter, some what wistfully, "my father and mother are alone on the old farm, | and I think they would like to have us come and live with them." "I shouldn't like it at all," said j Clara, "and mamma says no young bride should ever settle down among her husband's relations." Mr. May frowned a little, but Mrs. Clara had a pretty positive way of her own, and he remonstrated no further. But at the year's end Walter May had lost his situation, the clouds of debt had gathered darkly around them, and all the pretty, now furni ture, Eastlake cabinets, china dragons, proof engravings and hothouse plants were sold under the red llag. They had made a complete failure of the housekeeping business, and now, in the fourth story of a third-rate hotel, j Mr. and Mrs. Walter May were looking their future in the face. Clara had been extraxagant. There ! was no sort of doubt about that. She J had given "recherche" little parties, j which she couldn't afford, to people ' who didn't care for her. She had pat- j terned her tiny establishment after models which were fur beyond her reach and now they were ruined. She had sent a tear-bcsprinkled let- ! ter to her mother, who was in Wash ington trying to ensnare arichhusband for her younger daughter, but Mrs. j Calthorpe had hastily written back that it was quite impossible for her to be in New York at that time of year, i and still more impossible to receive 1 Mrs. Walter May at the monster hotel where she was boarding. And Clara ! who had always had a vague idea that her mother was selfish, was quite cer- \ tain of it now. "There is but one thing left for you, Clara,'' said Walter, sadly. "And that —" "Is togo back to the old farm. I )ia\e no longer a home to offer you, but you will be s:ire of a warm welcome trom my father and mother. I shall remain here and do my best to obtain some new situation which will enable me to earn our daily bread." Clara burst into tears. "Goto my husband's relations?" she fobbed. "Oh, Walter, I cannot!" "You will have to,"he said dogged- j ly, "or else starve!" So Mr 3. May jacked up her trunk and obeyed. And all the way to Hazel copse Farm she cried behind her veil and pictured to herself a stony-faced old man with a virago of a wife, who would set her to doing menial tasks and overwhelm her with reproaches for having ruined "poor dear Walter." j As for he farmhouse itself, she was quite sure it was a desolate placo, with corn and potatoes growing under the very windows, and the road in front | filled with cows and pigs and harrows and broken cart wheels. But in the midst of her tears and desolation the driver called out: "Hazelsconse Farm! Mr. Noah May's! Here's th' 'ouse, ma'am." A long, low, gray stone mansion, all garlanded with ivy, its windows bright with geranium blossoms and the scarlet autumn leaves raining down on the velvet-smooth lawn in front, j Clara could just see how erroneous had been all her preconceived ideas, when she found herself clasped in arms , of the sweetest and most motherly of old ladies. "My poor dear!" said Mrs. May ca- ! ressinKly. "You are as welcome asthesunshine, daughter," said a smiling old gentle- j man in spectacles. And Clara was established in the easy chair in front of a" great tire of«i pine logs, and tea was brought in and the two old people eo> sotted and petted : her as If she had been a three-year-old child, just recovering from the measles. There was not a word of reproach not a questioning look, not a sidelong glance—all welcome, and tenderness and loving commiseration. And whun Clara went to sleep that illicit, with a wood fire glancing and glimmering | softly over the crimson hanging* of the ! "best chamber." she begun to think that perhaps blir had been mistaken lu some of her Ideas. The next day she had a long, confi dential talk with her father-in-law, while Mrs. May was making mince pies iii the kitchen. "But there's one thing I haven't dared to tell Walter about," she said, with tears in her eyes. "What's that, my dear?" said the old gentleman. "My dressmaker's bill," said Clara. "It came the night before I left New York —oh, such a dreadful bill! I hadn't any idea it could possibly amount up so fearfully." "How much was it?" said Mr. Noah May, patting her hand. "A hundred and fifty dollars," said Clara, hanging down her head. "Don't fret, my dear; don't fret," said the old gentleman. "Walter need never know anything about it. I'll settle the bill and there shall be an end of the matter." "Oh, sir, will you really?" "My dear," said old Mr. May, "I'd do much more than that to buy the color back to your cheeks and the smile to your lips." And that same afternoon, when Mrs. May had been talking to Clara in the kindest and most motherly way, the girl burst into tears and hid her face on the old lady's shoulder. "Oh," cried she, "how good you all are! And I had an idea that a father and mother-in-law were such terrible personages! Oh, please, please forgive me for all the things I have thought about you!" "It was natural enough, my dear," said Mrs. May smiling, "but you are wiser now, and you will not be afraid of us any longer." When Saturday night arrived Wal ter May came out to the old farmhouse dejected and sad at heart. He had dis covered that situations did not grow, like blackberries, on every bush; he had met with more than one cruel re buff, and he was hopelessly discour aged as to the future. Moreover, he fully expected to be met with tears and complaints by li is wife, for he knew Clara's inveterate prejudices in regard to country life. But to his infinite amazement and relief, Clara greeted him on the door step with radiant smiles. "Tell me, dear," she said, "have you got a new situation?" He shook his head sadly. "I'm glad of it," said Clara, brightly, "for we've got a place—papa and mamma and I." "It's all Clara's plan," said old Noah May. "But it has our hearty approval," added the smiling old lady. "We're all going to live here to gether," said Clara. "And you are to manage the farm, because papa says GAL 29 he is getting old and lazy," with a merry glance at the old gentleman, who stood beaming on his daughter in-law, as if he were ready to sub scribe to one and all of her opinions, "and I am ready to keep house and take all the care off mamma's hands. And, oh, it is so pleasant here, and I do love the country so dearly! So if you're willing, dear —" "Willing?" cried Walter May, ecs tatically, "I'm more than willing. It's the only thing I've always longed for. Good-by to city walls and hearts of stone; good-by to hollow appearances and grinding wretchedness! Why, Clara, 1 shall be the happiest man alive. But —" "There," said Clara, putting up both hands as if to ward off all possible ob jections, "I was sure there would be a 'but.' " "I thought, my dear," said Walter, "that you didn't like the idea of liv ing with your husband's relations." Clara looked lovingly up into her mother-in-law's sweet old face, while she silently pressed Mr. Noah May's kindly hands. "I am a deal wiser than I was a week ago," she said. "And, oh, so much happier!" "So am I!" said Walter —Waverly Magazine. Knclifclt I<iglitttltip«. Roughly speaking, lightships nro only used where it is impossible or inexpedient—on account of the shift ing nature of the shoal—to build per manent lighthouses, and the first one to bo placed in position was the well-known Nore, in the year 1732. At the present time there are CO round the British coasts. The English lights are painted red, and those on the Irish const black, with the name in huge white letters on both sides. At the mast head there is a largo wooden globe or cage called the day mark. The lantern encircling the mast is about 10 feet high, and con tains a number of argand lamps and retlectors, 21 inches in diameter, ar ranged in groups on a frame, which a beautifully regulated clockwork ap paratus causes to revolve, atul the re sult is those brilliant Hashes of light which practically spell the name of the light vessel to passing ships, for every light has somo distinguishing characteristic, cither In tho period or color of tho Hash. ICven when the lightship Is rolling or pitching in a heavy sea the light remains horizontal, as the lamps >;i»d retlectors are hung on gimbals, so as to give them free play In all directions. Foggy weather entails additional work for all hands, ns a powerful fog horn, driven either by steam or com pressed air. Is kept working while the fug lasts. By means of high and low blasts from the trumpet the sailor Is Informed what lightship he Is passing. each fog signal, as well as each light having its own distin guishing characteristic. —Notes and Queries. (><•«*«*« ICmiiHln. There are only three remaining of the thirteen original crosset built by King Kdward I.to mark the resting place of Queen Klealior's funeral pro cession. One Is near Northampton, one at Wallham Cross,tho third at CharKf Cross I THE REALM OF FASHION. | New York City.—The bolero is the all popular, all smart garment for after noon and evening wear. The chic lit tie May Manton models shown are FANCY BOLEROS. suited to an infinite variety of materi al and are susceptible of almost end less variation. The sleeveless design can be made of brocaded velvet or silk, of all-over lnce or embroidery, or of jetted or embroidered net, as well as of Oriental embroidery and silk. Beneath it can be worn chiffon, mousseline, Liberty, lace or such dress materials as silk crepe de Chine, nnd the lovely wool crepes. The second design is suited to silk, velvet, embroidery an 1 all the heavier materials mentioned, or can be made to match the skirt ami STYLISH FANCY WAI.ST. be worn w'th soiuv filmy peasant waist. As showu, the first is of vel vet, embroidered with steel nud jet; Ihe second Is of taffeta, with au edge of applique and revers of velvet. Both are essentially charming garments that are economical at the same time, as few patterns serve so admirably in remodeling last year's gowns. The large sleeves can always be cut down and the body portion requires but small pieces, yet with a simple waist of mousseline or Liberty the jacket will make I he whole gown appear new and up-to-date. The sleeveless model is cut with fronts and back only that are extend ed over the shoulders to form epaul ettes. At the front are arranged bias bands by means of which it Is held In place. The second model is also situ pie and fitted by means of shoulder aud under-arm seams only, but is turned back at the fronts to form small, tapering revers. The sleeves ar> one-seamed and slashed at the lower edge. At the neck is a stock collar that, with the Jacket fronts, is held by tiuy straps of the material. To rut the sleeveless bolero oue and a half yard of material twenty-one Inches wide, or one and one-eighth yard eighteen inches wide will be re quired; to cut the bolero with sleeves two yards twenty-one Inches wide, or one yard forty-four or fifty inches wide, with quarter yard of velvet for revers. Womiui'a Fuiicy WuUt. The bodice that given a walnteont of feet is much in vogue and is attractive in the extreme. The very charming May Manton model lllustrnti'd In the large engraving in adapted to theatre wear and all the ruany occasions thin call fur seiul drexM. As shown it is of white taffeta with black velvet and cream lace over white, but iunuutcr able combinations can be devised, and all the popular blouse materials are suitable. Itlack, with Turkish em broidery and deep cream chiffon, in place of the lace, is chic. The foundation Is a titled lining, the back and under arm gores of which are smoothly covered with the material and which should be carefully boned. The yoking material Is faced inio the back, but is made separately at the front, where It Is Included In the right shoulder aud under arm seams and hooks over onto the left. The 112 run is proper are laid lu three tucks at each frout edge, and are Jolued to the nar row vest portions, which are held la place by shaped straps and trimmed with tiny enamel buttons. The deep bertha is joined to the fronts and at the lower edge of the yoke in back, the stock collar being attached to the plastron and closing at the centre back. The sleeves fit snugly at the upper portion, but flare slightly at the lower edge where they turn back tc form pointed cuffs. The undersleeves are full in Paquin style and are ar ranged over the fitted lining, which ia cut full length, pointed bands finishing the wrists. To cut this waist for a woman of medium size three and a quarter yards of material twenty-one inches wide, oi two yards forty-four inches wide will be required, with one and a quarter yard of all-over lace eighteen Inches wide nnd one yard of velvet twenty one inches wide. Tho Middle of the Muff. The muff which is not a faultless .cyl inder of mink, ermine or sable, is of ten much betrimmed. In a made muff, as such is called to distinguish it from an all-fur muff, it is customary to in troduce a "middle" piece of something fine and soft to contrast with the vel vet or cloth used at the ends. Black Liberty silk, cunningly shirred occupies the middle of a castor velvet muff of large dimensions. Black mousseline de sole Is drawn into puffs in the cen tre of a ruby velvet muff, which Is made up to match a ruby velvet visit ing costume. Dead Gold Ornaments, Dead gold ornaments are among the millinery novelties, and are extremely effective on black, red, and, indeed, all dark colors. They are distinctly largj and pronounced, and give the touch of completeness. They fasten long plumd or simple bands of gold galloon. They catch the front back or hold the side in place. Hut lu some capacity they are almost certain to be found cu the cldc hat. Three-quarter Coat. The three-quarter coat with box front and half fitted back is a favorite of the season for young girls, as well as for their elders, and means genuine warmth as well as style. The .May Manton model Illustrated combines many features, and is in every way up to date. The high, Hariug collar fits snugly at the throat and widens to rest against tin- head aud makes a frame for the girlish face. The revers are sharply pointed in IMrectoire style, ami the back is shaped after the latest imported designs. The fronts am loose in box style and turn back to form the revers. The back is cut with side-backs and a cen tre seam, which curves gracefully to the figure. The side seams are open to the top of the stilehiug and so pro vide additional ease and freedom. The collar Is cut lu four iKirtions, high at the back and rounds off at the front. The sleeves are two-seamed and tit i smoothly. Pockets, with laps, are In sertcd in chfh front and the coat ia A THITKK-GI AKTUR COAT closed with handsome bullous aud but tonholes lu double breasted fashion. To cut this coal for a miss of four teen years of age two and five-eighth yards of material fifty-four incite! wide will be required. I i I PEARLS OF THOUGHT. !! I 1 A lie In its own clothes is always | Impotent. ; It takes two to make a quarrel, but , one may mend tt. | A sincere man Is nine-tenths right ' and 99 percent pure. You may measure a man by the things that move him. Though the fire is extinguished in death, the gold will remain. There is only one place where gold rusts, and tliat is in the heart. ! If home means only fine furniture, children will mean only bitterness. I It is beter to have our bank ni your heart than your heart in the bank. The man who reflects deeply will 1 soon be a light instead of a reflector. ! A man's life never rises above Its source, hence the need of being born from above. It is praiseworthy to to the stars, but you must also plan to a. _ p 1 on the earth. i Only the life that has mountain I heights to tap the clouds can have ! fruitful valleys. It is«better to have your bank inyoui the house than to allow fashion to ■ ruin your home. Only the man who can say "all my springs are in thee," can go through | the dry and thirsty land.—Ram's ( Horn. EACLE A GREAT FIELDER. | Swoops Down Into Dan bury and Catches a Dropped Kabbit on the My. Like lightning from a cloud a mon- Bter bald-headed eagle flashed down in i a crowded street of Danbury, Conn., I and, seizing within two yards of the | ground a rabbit that had fallen from I its talons high in air, soared into the sky again, before the hundreds who saw could realize what had happened. Persons on White street, one of the principal business thoroughfares, got j their first warning of the fierce bird's nearness by hearing a shrill cry above them, and then the whirr of wings. Looking up. they saw a white rabbit a hundred feet or so from the earth, fall j ing through the air. Above it, with wings half drawn in, cutting the air j like a knife, came the eagle after its I prey, which hod slipped from its claws. ; The rabbit had almost reached the ground when the eagle overtook it and, J describing a sharp circle and crying in triumph, mounted into the air with the rabbit fast in its talons. —New ! York World. r« rsnt RID Horsp. A heavy-set German of the type usually caricatured on the vaudeville stage, walked puffing aud wildly paw ing the air at La Salle and Madison streets the other day and attracted no end of attention by the queer figure he cut. Finally ho st*Jii(e:l short, wheeled around, and looked about him with a perturbed expression of amaze | ment. The big policeman was a few feet away and edged up to And out ; what was the trouble. "Vhat, golly!" burst out the little j fat man, as he pawed the air more wildly than before. "I drove off mitout my horse." The policeman stared at him as though his eyes would jump from their sockets and two or three bystanders, who had heard the exclamation grad ually began to see an enormous humor in the remark. The little man opened his mouth and spake again: "And mitout my buggy, too!" he ex claimed "1 go pack and get him!" Puffing, steaming and pawing, the lltdo man wabbled in the direction whence he came. It was several min ute:'. before the policeman recovered sufficiently to laugh.—Chicago News. A Ounlli-iiiun. She was never at a loss in the in terests of tbe family for whom she had toiled, in Innumerable capacities, for years. Over the soapsuds, of a Mon day morning, in the hack kitchen, she heard aud retailed the news Hera was generally of funerals and wed dings ; theirs of the minor and major movements of home sisters, and bro thers gone abroad. One of these last was expected lia.-K from the Knst after mi absence of four years. Elbow deep In froth, she contrasted his qualities with those of his elder brother in Af rica. whom she (secretly) retnrdcl more. " Yea, now," she said, referring to her acknowledged favorite, " • was a gentleman. Mister John was. Wh»n 'e wanted 'is boots cleaned 'e'd come to th« top of t.ie stairs and call down, soft-like: 'Mi \ 1... will you te so kind as t■» than ruy hoots?" Not : but what Mister 'Arry's a i ntlenum, too. hut in a differ ill style. Wheu Mister 'Any wauled 'ls bents done, 'e'd just drop 'em uvr the banisters and 'oiler: ' V!uds ! I want my boots cleaned!'The Academy. To Iteinnvr -|itlni« i«. i A splinter is a very little thins, but capable of creating a great deal of mischief, discomfort and pain Kvery mother «tf small chlldrt a should provide herself with a pnlr t ! of sharp-pointed fove.-|.* for this em urgency. Wh> n the splinter I* em i bedded In th > tMh of hand or foot, the point of a Mil l I p.u. of Seltrors - I a manicure |u.ir >» 111 \ ry well an swer—should tie inserted , dire -My o\er and follow in: the j nth of the 1 splinter, and a : mall In u-ion made. If there b an* id. < in>;. Haunch it by a little pre.. e. 111 n Open th.l j wound by *trtU|i!.iff it a little, and i with your forceps pick out the of fending object, W!hii the splinter is i under the nail, cut > lUtle V-shaped I piece out of the null and with the forceps the splinter Is easily re moved. Protect the cut made with n little collodion of « finger-cot.Hat- I uer's I'tuar
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers