1> —«"> HIS SOCIAL EXPERIMENT By Willa>.rd Wjk.ll Wheeler Copyright, 1905, by \V. \V. Wheeler 0 o "Well, that spoils the evening for me," observed Strong gloomily, linger ing a note which said that the grip would prevent a certain young lady from attending the opera that night. "Sorry Gladys is sick. No; confound it if I am! TSiese eleventh hour excuses are getting too frequent. I won't stand for it. I wonder if Elizabeth Miller will go,"he mused, his dressing. "No; I'll stay at home to- ' night. What right has a girl to make a fellow miserable anyhow? I—come in." "And here's your mendin', Mr. How ard," said the young woman who en- ! tered. She addressed him according to i a custom in his family before the deatii of his parents had driven him into an apartment house, where he had found a position for the faithful servant. "Thank you, Mary," saitl Strong without pausing in his wrestling bout with a collar button. "Mary, I have a couple of extra tickets for the theater tonight. Can't you get Pat to take you ?" "It's always Pat you're a-teazin' me about, Mr. Howard, and there ain't a Pat—not for me. 1 ain't pretty enough, and, then, I'm thirty-five. Sure, it's many a year since I've seen a theater. All our money goes to the doctor. I d have togo alone." "No, Mary; yon must not be neglect ed in that fashion," he said, turning abruptly from the mirror. "Let me be Pat tonight." "Oh, Mr. Howard, I couldn't—it wouldn't—no, sir. oh. Mr. Howard, 1 it's Jokin' you are, after all," she ex claimed as a smile spread over his face. "No, Mary, I never was more serious in my life. I am going to give you, Mary McGinnis, the best time of your life. Put on your best bonnet and be ready by a quarter to S. You live at"— "On Third avenue, hack, three flights up. Hut, Mr. Howard" — "No excuses, Mary. Now goodby, or we'll both l>e late." Throughout dinner at the club that night Strong's face repeatedly relaxed at the oddity of his experiment. Its unconventionality did not worry him, for the wealth and social position of the Strongs put him beyond the sting of criticism. "Opera tonight. Strong?" drawled young Castlewood, whom he particu larly disliked, dropping into a vacant Beat. "No; had planned to surprise Gladys Hastings with that new piav—Man ton's—for a change, but she's sick. However"— "Well, you needn't waste any time asking Elizabeth Miller," laughed Cas tlewood, "for I'm going to take her myself." "Oh, don't worry." replied Strong, nettled. "No offense, old man; knew you were Inclined in that direction, though be- ' tween two fires at present. But, by the way," he added, aiming a parting thrust, "1 hear that Count tie Mignv arrived here today en route for San Francisco. Guess you've heard Gladys apeak of him. Keep your eye on him. He's a clever chap." "Smooth might better describe him. 1 know absolutely that he's bogus," j replied Strong. "Oh, have it your way," drawled ■Castlewood, departing. Strong was be tween two fires, and, knowing it, rc eeuted all the more these insinuations. Which disturbed him more, the thought of Castlewood's recent marked attention to Elizabeth or the arrival of the count, he could not determine. At first Mary was ill at ease that night with Strong, tlie luxurious car riage. his evening dress and polished manners being strange to her, but his geniality soon put her at ease. On the way he stopped at a florist's. "These violets are for you, Mary, and the roses for another nice young lady who is 111," he explained. "Thanks, Mr. Howard, and it's the lady with the beautiful eyes that is nick? Oh, I am so sorr3 - !" she ex claimed. "Yes, she has beautiful eyes. Mary, but where did you see her?" "At the tea you gave in your apart ments last year. She thinks every thing of you. Mr. Howard. I could see that plain, and if she grows up to be as flue looking as her mother, why, you'll—you'll"— "But her mother was not there," he said, coming to her rescue. "Oh, yes, she kept saying Elizabeth this and Elizabeth that. She"— "But I'm not talking about Eliza beth. These flowers are for Miss Hast ings, the girl with the heavy auburn hair," replied Strong, amused. "Oh. I remember her," she said dis appointedly. • I'm so sorry. I thought it was—l mean—oh, I don't know what I mean. I'm an old goose, Mr. How ard," she finally exclaimed, much dis tressed. They were now at the Hastingses, where Strong had ordered the coach man to stop. "How is Miss Hastings?" Strong in quired at the door. "Why—why— Oh, she's better." re plied the well drilled man. recovering himself. Strong left the flowers and returned to the carriage with strange misgivings. Strong did not heed the many won dering glances his friends cast in his direction that night, for lie was doing his best to make it a red letter occa sion for Mary. Moreover, lie was hav ing a heart to heart talk with himself, in which two young women prominent ly figured. What Mary said and did iu a situation new \ her is another story, but when it w < > cr --in. sighed as if waking from :tifui Cream. | "Hello, Strong! Cot her. after all, I ! see," came to his ears as they were entering the foyer. Turning, he saw Castlewood with Elizabeth Miller. "How are you, Elizabeth?" he in quired. "Miss Miller, let me present Miss McGinnis, and Mr. Castlewood Miss McGinnis." Castlewood, gazing in wonder, forgot to bow, but Eliza beth greeted Mary cordially. It was a friend of Strong. That was sutfi elent for her. Soon they passed on. "Oh, Mr. Howard! That's the girl with tne beautiful eyes." exclaimed Mary. "Ain't she handsome And you don't care—you"— "I have not said I didn't care, Mary," he said simply, but earnestly. "And, oh, Mr. Howard, there Is the girl with the auburn hair, too!" she in terrupted. "Why, I thought she was the sick one." "Gladys Hastings," involuntarily came to his lips as he followed Mary's 4&se. la a muiiieut he was opposite her and their eyes had met. "Oh, Howard I—l—l thought we—l thought you were going to the opera!" she exclaimed in contusion. "You see, the count came, and I was so much better I couldn't disappoint him, as he is here in New York only for one even ing. But, pardon let me present Mr. Strong—Count de Migny." And then her eyes wandered haughtily to Mary. "And let me introduce the Duchess of Kilkenny Miss Hastings and Count de Migny," said Strong gravely, though smiling inwardly. The count's French manners brought forth a low bow, while Gladys scarcely nodded. "And wasn't that the girl?" asked the mystified Mary when they were iu tiie carriage. "Yes," Strong replied, but he was silent for a long time. "She was so uppish to me," Mary finally ventured, "while Miss Miller treated me as if 1 was a real lady." "And you are, Mary a thousand times the lady that some one thinks she is," he said seriously. "But why dif fact, however, the lady of the house, iti case she lias her own way, generally points the garden yel low and red rather than green. Her Idea usually i; nic e', to get as much bloom as pos-Ible. and this she does at n sacrifice oft'• • • e ma-ses of foliage which are abs u <•!>' ice -ary to give mass, body and depih to a large gar den.—Architectural Record Magazine. "Shorry I m sho late, m' dear," be gan Dingle apologetically, "but shonie fresh Jokers stopped me an' wouldn' lemmee go" "Indeed?" interrupted his wiftt 'Why didn't you take the brick out of your hat and hit them with it?"— Philade lphia Press. ffo Not Itnsh. One need n >t thrust his hand Into a raging furnace even though he knows that a precioi's jewel lies therein H" may be patient until the (lames are spent.—From "The Bishop's Niece," by Gtortre H. Picurd. I in the Dunes By HONOR E WILLSIE Copyright, Unto, by Honore Willsie i o Lake Michigan is covetous of her eastern shore. Year after year her sands creep inland. Inch by inch, mile by mile, now a peach orchard is smoth ered, now a mellow wheatfield is blotted out, and In their stead scrub pines thrive and sand burs sprawl in the sun. Year by year the scrub | pines grow stouter and the sand burs tangle thicker and thicker, and with each year the desolation of the sand dune country increases. Hoads formed one month are shifting dunes the next. Inland lakes, once green and lovely, slowly and mercilessly are choked un til only sand skirted pools remain. And still the desolation grows. Katherine and her Great 1 »ane hud dled together under the scrub pine and watched the gray of the twilight turn to purple. "Well, we're lost, Jacky," she said, "just plain lost! The hunting lodge ought to be over in that direction, but it's not, and they have supper so late they won't miss us for another hour. How would It seem to spend the night in the sand burs, do you suppose, Jacky?" Jacky whined and laid his great head in the girl's lap. She rubbed his ears absentmindedly and started off over the dunes. "I'm not frightened," she said.. "I'm just—just lonely. Well, let's empty our shoes, Jacky, and start on." The low shoes once more securely tied, Katherine picked up the bit of fish rod with which as a staff she had strolled from camp early in the after noon and struggled to the top of the dune, the dog trudging beside her, with now and again a growl at the shadowy pines. From the top of this heap of sand she saw another heap looming through the dusk. Down she waded, now leaning on her bit of bamboo, now holding to Jacky's collar, until from ' the top of this she discovered a third bur crowned dune. On the top of the third dune she dropped down to rest, j while the dog crouched on Iter skirts, j with watchful ears pricked forward, j Suddenly he gave a little yelp and ran Into the dusk. "Jacky!" called the girl. Then she strugled after him through the heavy sand. "Why," she said, "it's another little lake! Look out, Jacky; don't drink too much. I'm not thirsty enough to drink water I can't see. Why, how soft this sand Is! Jacky—it—why—l'm In way above my ankles!" She floundered toward the dog as he turned toward her with a whine, the Instinctive desire in danger of the liv ing for the living. "Oh, Jacky, it's one of the quicksand bars!" Trembling and panting, the dog ; threw himself against her knees, while I his whines changed to sharp yelps. In vain Katherine struggled to draw her j feet from the sand. It had closed about each foot with the grip of giant j hands that insistently, silently drew j her down. She stooped and felt j Jacky's back. Already the quivering I sands were half way up his legs. As she felt of him his yelping ceased. He \ reached tip and licked the face bending i over him. Then he crouched low, while | Katherine felt his great muscles swell and stiffen. Then suddenly he hurled | himself forward with all the strength ! of his lean, magnificent body and iu three leaps had disappeared into the dusk. Katherine gave a low sob. "Oh, Jacky, how could you leave me?" Again, •summoning all her : strength, she strove to follow him. i But the struggle was worse than use less. And now the <"11111 that had pos i sessed her left her. She stooped and scooped at the sand about her ankles | with bare hands, digging frantically, | with low moans not unlike Jacky's. I Handful after handful, then a pause, | while she stared out Into the darkness with shrieks for help. The sand had | crept above her knees. With broken j nails she stopped to listen. Yes, far 1 out across the dunes she heard a man's shout and Jacky's excited bark, 1 and again she raised her own hoarse cry. Then she heard the crackle of j sand burs. "Katherine, for heaven's sake, where i are you?" Ills voice! "Go back, Hugh—go back! I'm In | the quicksand!" Silence from the shore, then: "Stay perfectly still. I'll be out there In a few minutes. I'm going to cut pine boughs to walk on." In utter thankfulness Katherine stood silent. Then surprise swept over her. Hugh! That was Hugh, whom she had not seen or heard of for a year, not since she had tossed the ring—the wedding ring—back to him and said: "Well, six mouths have shown us what a fuddle we have made of mar riage. Let's have sense enough to stop ; now. We evidently don't care enough j to give iu to each other." Without a word Hugh had taken the ring and left her. And now to be found this way, and by him! In si lence she watched the path he made grow out toward her and in silence lieArd Jacky's excited greetings to her from the shore. Then, after what seemed a lifetime of battle with a creeping sand, the man lifted her in his arms and silently carried her to the shore. She lay quietly, while the dog fawned about her and the man, a broad shouldered figure in the summer darkness, brushed the sand from her skirts and emptied her sodden shoes. "What am 1 <0 do with you, Kather ine?" he asked. "I got lost from camp," she an swered. "I don't know. Show me the way back, and I'll go when I'm rested. I don't want that coward Jacky, though." "Iv i< driving out to Camp Minitka. 1 didn't know you were there. John :1 -! .ut Katheriue's shoulders and str< le off into the dark ness. Katherine lay in the warm sand close to .Incky, who watched her every movement. She was not at all afraid. ! It seemed to her that, after the won der of her rescue, she never again could know fear. Little by little the stars grew brighter and the answering "low of the sand seemed like the hai* light of some strange new dawn. At first she lay without articulate thought, thankful to l»e alive, to feel the warmth of the sand and of the great dog beside her, to rest her strained muscles. Then suddenly the past year, which had seemed to her so heroic, so sacri ficlal, seemed very useless and shal low. "I must find some new thing to do," she thought. "Hugh has gone on in his work. 1 must find work for my self." I She moved closer to the dog and i half unconsciously raised her bead from the sand to listen for the crackle ( of sand burs under heavy boots. Then almost without warning Hugh stood beside her. "Can you walk," he said, "or shall I carry you?" "Oh, I can walk,", she answered as he helped her to her feet. They walked ' In silence to the buckboard. Hugh untied the horse and, reins lu hand, stood waiting to help her. Katherine stared at the man. She ' seemed to havel awakened from a dream. "And Iwe missed a whole year," she said. '(And who am Ito set myself In Judgment of us both? Hugh," 1 with a pitiful littllo Inflection of huinil- 1 lty In her voice that was as strange to 1 her own ears—"Hugh, will you—shall we try again?" ! I'or one moment he stared at the drooping head of the girl. "Dear!" he said after awhile, and, gathering her in his arms, he climbed into the buck- | board, and, with Jacky following close < behind, they drove slowly off into the j 1 summer night. j i FenclnK For Exerefae. 1 The enormous value of continual 1 practice with the foils as a means of i securing and preserving good health is, i In my humble opinion, the main reason i for the steady hold of fencing upon I public favor In France and Italy. It is i only of late years that the attention be- i stowed by medical men upon physical exercise, In France at least, where 1 I>r. Lagrange's treatises have become < classical, has given prominence to the ] worth of fencing as a health factor. Every one knows, or, rather, every 0110 should know, that fencing presses into < J service every muscle of the human ; frame, that It creates and develops j suppleness and quickness, that prac j tlced in youth It Imparts a freedom and I grace of motion absolutely unattain- i | able by other means, that It is not a i : violent exercise In so far as injury by i strain Is involved and, finally, that its perils are comparatively few. At very remote intervals one hears of a fatal Injury resulting, almost invariably from a cheap or damaged mask or from the foolhardy practice of exercis- i ing without the usual head or chest covering or with an ill buttoned foil. The proportion of mishaps to the num ber of fencers, however, is infinitesi mal.—Frederick A. Schwab In Outing. A I.IIIIK Wnlk. The dear old professor was one of the kindest hearted men in the world, hut he was also one of the most ab sentminded. He was recently visit ing his newly married nephew, and, naturally, the young wife was full «.•' the praises of her firstborn. The pro fessor listened like a man ill a dream to her recital of the remarkable fort 1 tude with which he cut his teeth and hls-tnilj wonderful intelligence. At last the dear old fellow woke up with a start and felt he really must say something for the sake of at any rate appearing interested. "Can the dear little fellow walk?" he Inquired mild ly. "Walk?" said the proud mother. "Why, he has been walking six months!" "Hear me!" said the pro fessor, lapsing once more into abstrac- ; tion. "What a long way he must have got!" American < Itilin All Wrong. "American clul.s are few and small," ' said a soi ial philosopher, "because the\ ■ exist on a radically wrong principle, j This principle is that dub life is an j extravagance, whereas the right prin ciple of club life is that It is an econ omy. "London is the club < ity of the world. Why are London's clubs so splendid and so popular? Because a man can dine, drink, smoke and amuse himself in them almost as cheaply as in his own house far and away more cheap ly than In a cafe or a hotel. "Hence In London every man desires to Join a good club, for a London club Is an Institution that actually saves Its members money. Hut here In Amer ica our clubs are -ondllcted extrava gantly, and it Is an extravagance to belong to them. '>nly the very pros perous American can afford to be a clubman."— l'hiiadelp'iia Bulletin. ancient Sport* \mnnu the llfbrfwu. Pigeons as letter carriers, tradition tells us. were employed at the time when Joshua invaded Palestine as me diuins of communication between head quarters and camps in lands far off on the other side of the Jordan. At the time of the Talmud they were used In amusing games. The Talmud tells us that betting was indulged in at the pi geon play. The owner of the pigeon which reached first the point designat ed was the winner. Another play coi:;i vtod with betting was the kubya. Kuhya means a small pot (Arabic kubeia. -mall glass). The kubya was a little pot wherein dice were shaken and throw'i upon the ta ble. The dice were numbered as our modern ones are. Against these two games the Talmud was in arms, and their players wen not allowed to up .... .>- ; 'iu>sses before the bar. J J. BROWN THE EYE A SPECIALTY 'iyes tested, treated, fitted with lit Wliicli Thin 1 lithsl ol' All Slccilh Wsim Secured i the Smartest lltief \MI on the t i O%VM. All Indians who use horses are very fond of horse racing and not only race their own horses against one another, but they race their own against those of other tribes and used to do this even in the wild era of the buffalo and of constant warfare. Even at that time friendly tribes :ui 1 bauds joined in the two grand buffalo hunts of each year an I after the hunting was over pitted the fastest horses of the various bands one against the other. At one time not so very long ago th • Biackfeet had the very fastest horse that any one knew of, the fastest horse of which any one could tell or which any one had seen. He was a source of wealth to the tribe, for Indians are ve/y fond of betting, and this animal always won every thing that was bet against hint. You can imagine how p oml the Blaekfeet were of this creature. You can also Imagine how envious were the Stoneys, the Crows, the Sioux, the <'reeks and all the other Indians of the plains. Stealing is cous'dered fair between tribes, and if u can lie successfully •lone those savage people think it very honorable, even glorious. The Black feet, therefore, kept the wonderful race horse in a tent at night. They did not dare leave him out with their other horses. They bought a string of bells at the Hudson Bay company's nearest fort, put the bells around the horse's neck, tied him to a tepee pole inside a big tepee and set four men to sleep in the tent with him. This was the rule every night, and on no night did the men forget to close th ■ door of the tepee and "cinch" it tlrrht with 11: >ngs of buckskin. Whoever c eiVi steal that big white beauty of a horse had to be a very clever thief*, ihev thought: but. In truth, they never dreamed thai he could be stolen. The smartest t!;i> niuong the Crow Indians told hh cif 112 and t 1 head men that he wa • gaing Jo try to get that horse away Iro;i the Bla-';feet. One evening 1" w ed through the grass to the tall h!u T a'ang the Bow river (north o r in and close the door. Night fell, and lie crept down the slanting bhi.f into the camp. The only Conviction Follows Trial 1 "When buying loose coffee or anything your grocer happens to have in bin bin, how do you know what you are y getting ? Some queer stories about coffee that is sold in bulk, could be told, if the peoplo who handlo it (grocers), cared to Could any amount of mero talk have persuaded millions of P housekeepers to use Lion Coffee, the leader of all package coffees for over a quarter of a centurv, if they had not found it superior to all other brands in Purify, Strength, Flavor and Uniformity? This popular success o! LION COFFF.E can be due only to Inherent merit. There la no atronfler proof ot merit than con tlnued and Increasing popularity. j II the verdict ot MILLIONS OF HOUSEKEEPERS does not convince you ol the merits ol LION COFFEE, Mfl' ijj'i It costs you but a trltle to buy a If li/ffKm package. It Is the easiest way to Ski convince yourself, and to make I you a PERMANENT PURCHASER. W • - I I.ION COFFEE i* sold only In 1 lb. sealed packages, jj& f*-' '*' Vt J 3 and ruchee you as pure and clean an when it left our It" Kjfi Wk' Ml m Lioii-head on every package. /ii&YKj/j |Uf Save these Lion-head, for valuable premiums S SOLD BY GROCERS W EVERYWHERE r , WOOLSON SPICE CO., Toledo, Ohio. & q — eesS&k. _ • : I j Ills Home Paper j H of Danville. j Of course yon read I : | I I 11(111 Ifl i • IML mbiiil 111] Plh U. ii& ■Ulugjjp'" j j '! i >!! i y i THE rUOPLE'S i| POPULAR I APER. j j Everybody Reikis St. ! Published Lvcrv Mor ry; Hxcept Sunday v.l i " i | No. ii E£. M»h ng St. I | I Suhsc! ti< ii * ccr r Week. i J :.. '■***-' 3r thing he had to fear was the barking of some dog. If a d>g saw or heard him and bsrke-l. lliat would set all the other do:, barking, and he would be obliged to run for his life. Stealthily, iis only an In lian <• ,n move on his soft ly mocca ined 112 ibis arch thief of the thievinv < -o ■. Nation crept into the Blaekfeet . i lie had to step over several >-1 oping dogs, and he did not awaken on-. He came to the tent of ;'ie white Lo lie looked il all over. He went t > another tepee and took a travoi from -- de and carried it and set it up a ii -a the horse's tent. A travoi . the wheel less wagon the Indians ie in the summer. It Is made of tv.o I "u i' >'.es with the upper ends near 1 her; the lower ends spread [ apart and <::• : upon the ground. You ee by this (1 -aption Unit If a travois Is st 1 one:. i it <■ u be made to serve as a sort of lad 'or. Thus the arch tlilef , of the Crow e' the one he put up j again t the ho. ■ lent. On It he climb- I od to the lo iof tlie tepee, and from I there he g a view of the interior, j looking down between the tent poles j that 112 iria the sides of the < himney j hole. He :\v the horse dimly, and even more • inly he saw the four men j beside the horse, all asleep. He climb e | tv in 1h • tent poles; lie poised his i body very nicely in the chimney open- i Ing; he dropue 1 fairly and squarely upon the wh ■ horse's back. The instant he felt himself oil the back of the beast his knife, which was j in his ban , s vet through the cord that te'l.en 1 the horse. Ilis heels shot j In against the horse's sides, the bells rang out sharp an 1 clear, and the horse snorted with arprise. But the pres sure of the thief's heels urged the ani mal forward, and as lie took one step 1 the man r< In 1 out and slit a gash ! straight up and down through the fas- : toned door, which was only buckskin. : The I" ir Indians 1 p• ! to their feet, but the horse and his captor were now out in th" <; a ground and like the wind shot away from the camp. The wat< ers ran and yelled, the dogs b I.■ I, the whole tribe rushed out of the • aiis. and every man sprang to ut what was the use? Theje was i, horse that could catch the ani n..'! : so they all turned sadly home again -r a mad ride of a mile or t\v • T\ ■ thief rode in triumph home to the tents of the Crows, and from thai his tribe owned the great while horr-v, anil hi ; fame and their r:< '.es increased. From Julian Ralph's ••Stories Told by Indians" in St. Nicho las. The let les-o!| for a good many pe ip'e «•(■:•! 1 !e 'o ii ten at a keyhole. It is a pity fo;- such that the practice Is dishonorable. Swc chine FIVE MINUTES. I Hi!#*r Sonir < ii'ciilt Seciaii a \ «'rj IIUIIK Time. In :i lntini , trial before a western court lli** prisouer was able to account for the w! :<»!«; of his time except live minutes on the evening when the crime wns committed. I lis counsel argued j that it Mas impossible for him to have j killed the man tinder the circumstances j in so brief .1 period, and on that plea largely l»a.-;*d his defense, the other testimony ! > g strongly against his client. Wh 11 the prosecuting attorney re- 1 nihil, h<> said: "How long a time really is live mine Let 11s see. Will his honor 1 ... ;ud absolute silence in the court rvMin i irt'i t space?" The judgf graciously complied. There was a < lock 011 the wall. Every eye in the courtro mw as fixed upon it as the ! pendulum 1 • •!:« .1 off the seconds. There 1 j was a breathless silence, j We all know how time which is I walled 112 >: ;>s and halts and at last | does not -• 111 to move at all. The l.f witted counsel waited until the tin .! :n: 1 ieiice gave a sigh of relief ' at ll:e eli. " of the period, and then asked quietiv: "Could he nut have struck one fatal i blov; in all that time?" The pr r was found guilty, and, as it was proved afterward, justly. THE DOG'S COAT. Brrgli I!, h ■ \ >! Wash It, if Von Vt :tnl !t I'erfcct. 11l t!i Com:!;-;. C.il nilar Reginald F. Main .-. wi'iu -: "I. i!t careful feeding j will 11;. I give a dogs coat that gl-jw | which i - such a sure sign of health if I he Is continually washed with soap and water. Owi e who allow their dogs ! to live in tli ■ bouse are forever waah- I Ing the wreii !)!.»d animal and forever complain Hit his coat is coming out. The oft. lie.- tl:e dog is washed and !. scrubb I the more will his coat leave its trail and the deader and duller will It look. The health and growth of a dog's coat depend entirely on a natu ral oil from the skin. As often as the dog is washed so often is the oil wash ed out and so much more is the de struction of the coat. If a dog were brushed every day for five or ten min utes against as well as with the grain his coat would not only have a luster, but would cease to distribute itself all over the place ereept for a very short time once or twice >1 year. Resides this, brushing has ,1 stimulating ef fect 011 the whole system, helps the blood circulation; by this the digestion, and so the general health." \ KlLLtkc COUCH 1 I CUREJHE LJJNCSJ "™ Or. Kings New Oiscovery LR«N /CONSUMPTION price IFON I OUGHSand 50c & SI.OO | V'JLDS Free Trial. HSurest and Quickest Cure for all 1 THROAT and LUNG TROUB- PtSiSUVli.mil RAILROAD. ! Philadelphia & Krie Railroad Division, I Northern Central Railway Division. Schedule in Effect .June It, 1905. Trains leave SOUTH DANVILLE as follows: EASTWARD. | 7 II a in. (weekdays) for Wilkes Harre. Haz leton and I'ottsville and Philadelphia 10.17 a MI. 1 daily) for Wilkes Harre, Ha/leton Pottsville. Philadelphia, Mahanoy City and Shenandoah. ! 2.21 p. 111. 1 weekdays) for Wilkes Barre, Haz ieton and I'ottsville. .">..">o p. :n. (weekdays) fur Wilkes-Barre, and Hazleton. .Making eonneetion at Wilkes-Harre with Lehigh Valley for all points North and South and l>. it H. for .Scranton. WESTWAUD. 9.00 a. 111. (weekdays) for Sunbury. Leave Sun bH] 9.42 a. in daily for Lock Haven and intermediate stations, tin weekdays for lieliefonte, Tyrone. lieartield Phillips burg Pittsburg and the West. Leave Sunbury 9.60 a. 111. i weekdays) for Harrisburg and intermediate stations. 1 Philadelphia. New York, Haiti more and Washington. , 12.10 p. m. weekdays for Sunbury. J Leave Sunbury 12.48 p. m daily for Buff alo via Emporium. Leave Sunbury 1.13 p. ni. weekdays for 1 I'm poriu 111,1 telle font e.Ty rone, Clearfield, Philipsburg,Pittsburg,Canandaigua and Intermediate stat ions, Syracuse, Uoches ter. Buffalo and Niagara Falls. Leave Sunbury 1.54 p. in. weekdays for Harrisburg Mid intermediate statiohs. Philadelphia, New York, Baltimore, Washington. Bullet Parlor Car to I'liil adelphia. Leave Sunbury 3.48 p. in.daily for Mar rteburg. Philadelphia. New York, Haiti more and Washington. 1 !1 p. m.daily for Sunbury. I Leave Sunbury 5.10 p.m. weekdays for ' Keuovo, Elmira and intermediate sta- > t ions. Leave Sunbury 5.20 p. m.daily for Har risburg and Intermediate points. Phila delphia, New York, Baltimore and Washington. 7.51 p. 111. weekdays or Sunbury. Leave Sunbury p. ni. daily for Har risburg and all intermediaie stations, Philadelphia, New York, Baltimore. Washington. Pullman Sleeping Car from Harrisburg to New York. Leave Sunbury y.50 p. 111. Sundays only for Harrisburg and intermediate sta lions, arriving at Harrisburg. 11.K0. Leave Sunbury 8.54 p. in. Sundays only for Williamsport and Intermediate sta tions. Leave Sunbury '.>.53 p. in. weekdays for Wil liamsport and intermediate stations. Buffet Parlor Car. SHAMOKIN DIVISION, N C. K. \V. WEEK HAYS. Leave Sunbury 0.10 a. in., 10.10 a. m., 2.10 pin. 5.35 p. 111. for StaamoUin and ilt Carniei. LEW ISTOW N I>l V IBION. WEEK DA vs. Leave Sunbury 10.00 a. 111., 2.05 p. 111. for Lew is? own and Lewistown Junction. 5.35 p. ni. for Seliusgrove. For time tables and further information ap ply to ticket agents. W W. ATTERBURY, L R. WOOD, pin , Philadelphia at 7.02 p.m. and ■ Buffalo at 10.80 a. ni. I2.tt pin. daily trom Scranton, I'ittston, Kingston, Berwick. Bloonisburg and interme diate stations, leaving Seranton at 10.10 a. in. and connecting there witli train leaving Buff alo at2.*s a. m. l :t-i p. m, weekly from Seranton, Kingston, Berwick, Bloonisburg and intermediate sta tions, leaving Seranton at 1.55 p. m., where it connects with train leaving New York City at 1 (Hi a. in., and Philadelphia at 9.00 a. in. on.", p. in.daily from Scranton. Kingston. I'ittston. Berwick. Bloonisburg and interme diate stations, leaving Scranton at 0.85 p. 111 , where it connects with trains leaving New York City at 1.00 p.m., Philadelphia at 12.00 p. in.and Buffolo at 9.30 a. m. T. E CLAHKE. (ien'l Sup't. T. W. LKE. Gen. Pass. gt. MB I 111?... Wb warn io io all Ms of Printing fl i. ll' ll'S 111. 1 11 i PitK. ii ii's fin*. !Ff A. well printed tasty, Bill or Le' W / ter Head, Post * A/A Ticket, Circulai Program, nient or Card < (V ) an advertisemen' for your business,a satisfaction to you lei Type, lei Presses, ~ Best Paper, Mc SHIM M, A Promptness -111 you can ask. A trial will make you our customer. We respectfully ask that trial. No. II 112:. Mnhoninjc St..