Aa PARE to ‘go there.”
THE HUSHED HOUSE.
I went at nightfall,
“ame again at dawn;
On Love’s door again I knosked—
Love was gone.
He who oft had bade me in
Now would bid no more;
Silence sat within his house,
Barred its door.
When the slow door opened wide
Through it I could see
How the emptiness within
Stared at me.
Through the dreary chambers
Long 1 sought and sighed,
But no answernig footstep
Naught replied.
came;
Then at last I entered
Dim a darkened room:
There a taper glimmered gray
In the gloom.
And I saw one lying
Crow ned with heliochrys;
Never saw I face as fair
As was his.
Like a wintry lily
Was his brow in hue:
And his cheeks were each a rose,
Wintry, too.
Then ny soul Jeipgmbered
All that made us par
And what 1 had ed at once
Broke my heart.
—Madison Cawein,in Harper's Magazine.
3 | AN ACTIDENT AND ITS SEQUEL. | 5.
kd Bs KATE RATHNORE. 2
REMEMBER it as well as
if it were yesterday. The
I carriage stood at the door,
and I was to go back to
school for the spring term.
My mother gave innu-
merable instructions, smoothed my col-
lar, and adjusted my cap on my head
properly, then gave me a kiss and
stood looking wistfully at me as I went
down the walk and got into the car-
riage.
A month or two later—it was in June,
I think—after a hard struggle one af-
ternoon with some figures, all about a
ship and a cargo and the profit and
all that, I went out to join the other
DOYS.
‘When I reached the playgreund they
were gone, and there was nothing for
me to do but amuse myself as best I
could.
I strolled about the house with my
hands in my pockets—which my moth-
er had told me distinctly not to do—
and, suddenly remembering her in-
structions, took them out again; then,
for want of better amusement, I Dbe-
gan to whistle.
Next to the school there was a pret-
ty cottage separated from the school-
house by a board fence. The two
houses were not a hundrer feet tpart,
and I could look right through under
the trees, and there on the tennis
ground stood a girl a trifie younger than
myself, looking straight at me.
Now, when a boy suddenly finds
himself observed by a girl, he feels
somewhat queer. I remember that very
well. My hands went right into my
pockets, but remembering that that
was not the correct thing to do in the
presence of a girl, I took them direct-
ly out again.
Then I concluded that it would be a
good way to show how little I was
embarrassed by turning around up-
my heel, a movement on which I
greatly prided myself. After that, I
don’t remember—it was so long ago—
what new capers I cut. But one thing
is very certain. I was soon hunting
for something I pretended to have lost
in the grass beside the fence.
“If it’s your knife you've lost,” I
heard a musical voice say, “it isn’t
there. I picked up a knife there a
week ago, but it was all rusty and no
good.”
“Oh, never mind,” I said, looking up
into two eyes peeping out from a sun-
bonnet; “it wasn’t much of a knife,
and I've got another.”
“Are you one of the boys at the
school 7’
“Ves?”
“What class are you in?’
“The fourth.” :
“Do you study geography ?”’
“Yes.”
“What's the capital of Austria?”
I scratched my head.
“I don’t remember that,” I admitted,
reluctantly. “I'm first rate on capitals,
but I can’t recollect that one.”
“Why didn’t you go off with the
boys?”
+I was behind with my sums. I sup-
pose they’ve gone to the river. I like
the woods pretty well;
squirrels.”
“And lizards,” she added.
afraid of lizards.” I
they're full of
“T’'m not
suppose you're
*No, I'm not.”
= #9f gou. want to go there now, and
sare: afraid;. I don’t: mind: going with
you, just to keep off the lizards and
things.”
She looked wistfully out at the wood.
I can see her now leaning on her
wicket, deliberating—if such a pro-
cess can be called deliberation where
the conclusion was determined—the
straight, lithe figure poised between
the racket and one foot, one little leg
crossed on the other—peering out at
the forest.
Suddenly, without any warning, she
dropped the racket and started for the
wood.
We were not long in crossing the
field, and were walking in the dense
shade when she stopped, and looking
at me with her expressive eyes, said:
“How still it is in here! It seems
{0 me I can almost hear the silence.”
“Yes, it is pretty solemn,” I replied.
“Let’s go on; the river winds about
down there, and we can see the water
go over the dam.”
I heard a distant voice ealling
“Julia.” It was very Taint: she did
not hear it. I stood a moment hesitat-
ing.
“Come, let's go,”
forward.
“Julia,” 1 heard again,
than before.
I hurried on, fearing she would hear
the voice and turn back.
Presently we emerged from the wood
and stood by the river. I was familiar
with the ground, and led my
friend directly to the dam.
“Most of the boys are afraid to
gvalk out on that dam,” I said.
“1’d be afraid.”
“But you're
I said, starting
more faintly
only a girl; a
oughtn’t to be afraid.” Vith that 1
started boldly out, occasionaily stand-
ing on one foot, and performing sun-
dry antics to show what a brave boy
I was. Then I retraced a few steps
and called to her to come.
“Oh, no,” she said: “I'm
“Afraid! You little goose!
to hold on to?”
Between her fear and a disposition
pliable to a boy older and stronger
than herself, it was not long before I
was leading her out on the dam.
“Don’t you see it's quite safe?” I
said.
She shrank back as I led along. 1
determined that she should £0 to a
point where the water poured over a
portion of the dam lower than the rest.
I turned my back to step up on the
post. It was but a moment. I heard
a cry, and saw Julia in the flood.
The expression that was in her eyes
is to this day stamped clearly on my
memory—an expression of mingled re-
proach and forgiveness.
I could scarcely swin a dozen
strokes, but uot a second had elapsed
before I was in the water.
I swam and struggled and buffeted
afraid.”
With me
to reach her; ail in vain. An eddy
whirled me in a different direction.
My strength was soon exhausted. 1
was borne down the river, sinking
and rising. till I came to a place
where 1 caught a glinipse, as 1 rose
to the surface, of a man running along
some pianks extending into the river,
and raised above the water on Posts.
My feet became entangled in weeds.
I sank. I heard a great roaring in my
cars, then oblivion.
When T came to IT was lying on my
back. I remember the first thing i
saw was a light cloud sailing over
the clear blue, There was an air of
quiet and peace that contrasted with
my own sensations. Then I saw a man
on his knees beside something he
was rubbing. I turned my, head aside
and say it was a little figure—a girl,
Julia. She was cold and stark.
My agony was far greater than when
I had plunged after her into the
stream. Then I hoped and believed
that if she were drowned I would Le
also. Now I saw her beside me life-
less, and I lived.
Then some men came, and the man
who was rubbing Julia said to them.
‘Take care of the boy; the girl is too
far gone.” They took me up and car-
ried me away, and laid me for a while
on a bed in a strange house. Then
I was driven to the school.
The next day my father came and
took me home. I was ill after that,
too ill to ask about Julia, but when 1
recovered what a load was taken
from my mind to know that by dint
of rubbing and rolling, and a stimu-
lant, she had been brought to and
had recovered. I also learned that
the ‘man who cared for us had seen
Julia fall and had rescued her. When
I saw him running along the planks
it was to his boat chained to the end.
That summer my father removed
with his family to Western Pennsyl-
vania. He was obliged to wait some
time for my recovery, but at last I
was able to travel, and left without
again seeing the little girl whom I had
led into danger. I only heard that I
had been blamed by everyone. -
* * * * oR ne %
Ten years passed, during which I
was constantly haunted by one idea:
that was to go back and find Julia
and implore her forgiveness. The
years that I must be a boy and depen-
dent seemed interminable. At last I
came of age, and received a small for-
tune that had fallen to me, and, as
soon as the papers in the case were
duly signed and sealed, I started.
It was just about the same time of
the year, and the same hour of the af-
ternoon as when I first saw Julia,
that I walked into the old school
grounds. I had fully intended to go
in next door and call for her, but my
courage failed me. I bad heard noth-
ing of her for years. Was she dead?
Was she living? Was she in her old
home, or far away? These thoughts
chased each other through my mind,
and I dreaded to know.
I was standing at the school en-
trance, with my ‘hand on the bell
when 1 heard a door in the next
house open and then shut.
moment I could feel
near me,
She came out of the house, a sien-
der, graceful girl of nineteen, and,
picking up a tennis racket, commenced
to knock the balls about. I wanted
to make myseif known; but dreaded
the horror with which she would re-
gard me when she should learn who I
was.
“I beg your pardon,” I
my hat,
From that
that Julia w
as
said, raising
“can you tell me if the school
little |
boy |
is still there?’ pointing to the house.
“It was moved some years ago,”
{ she replied, regarding me with the
id, steady gaze.
“1 was one of the scholars.”
“Indeed!” She spoke without any
further encourage ment for
on.
“I see the wood has been cut away,”
I added, giancing toward it.
“No; it does not seem to be.”
“Were you ever there?”
me 80
“Oh, yes, often.”
“And is that old dam still across
the river?”
“1 believe it is.”
She looked at me curiously. I went
on without waiting for a reply:
“Would you mind showing me the
way to it?’ It is a long while since
I was there.” :
She drew herself
hauteur. Then, thinking that perhaps
I was unaccustomed to the conven-
tional ways of civilized life, said,
pleasantly:
“You have only to walk through the
wood straight, at the back of the house
and you will come to it.”
“Thank you,” 1 replied; .'but }
hoped you would show me the way.”
She looked puzzled.
“Miss Julia,” I said, altering my
tone, I once met you when I was a
boy here at school.”
“I knew a number of scholars,” she
said, more interested; ‘who are you?”
1 dreaded to tell her. “If you will
pilot me to the dam,” I said. “I will
inform you.”
She thought a moment,
up with slight
she
then turned
and 1 looked out at the wood. With the
quick motion with which she had
made the same move as a child, she
started forward.
We walked side by side to the wood,
through it out on the river bank.
There was the water and the dam;
everything as it had been ten years
before,
“Did you ever try to walk out there?
I asked.
Once, whan I was a child, 1 came
here with a boy, and we walked to
where the water pours over. 1 met
with an accident. 1 fell in.”
“The boy overpersuaded you, I
pose?’
It was diflicult for me to conceal a
certain trepidation at the mention of
my fault.
*No, I went of my own accord.”
“He certainly must have been to
blame. He was older and stronger
than you.”
On the contrary,” she
sligh rising irritation,
after me like the noble
that he was.”
I turned away on pretense of exam-
ining a boat down the river.
“At any rate, he must have begged
your forgiveness on his knees for per-
mittiug you to go into sucia a danger:”’
“I never saw him again, He went
away.”
I fancied--at least, I hoped— I could
detect a tinge of sadness in her
voice.
“I have cften wished,” she went on,
“that he would co:ne back, as the other
senolars soraetimes do, as you are new,
and let me tell him how much I thank
Lima for nis noble effort.”
“Julia,” 1 said, suddenly turning
and facing her. “This is too much. I
am that boy. I led you into the wood.
I forced you to go ont in the dam: with
me. I permitted you to fall in.”
“And more than atoned for all by
risking your life to save me!”
Ah, that look of surprised delight
which accompanied her words! It was
worth all my past years of suffering
of fancied blame; fdr in it I read how
dearly she held the memory of the boy
who had at least shared the danger
for which he was responsible.
I do not remember if she grasped
sup-
said, with a
“he jumped
little fellow
my hand or I grasped hers. At any
rate, we stood hand in hand, looking
into each other's faces.
I blessed the Providence that ended
‘my punishment; I blessed the good for-
tune that had led me to a knowledge
of the kindly heart beside me.
Of all the moments of my
still count it far the happiest.
life, 1
Then we walked back through the
woods, over the intervening field, and
stood together leaning against the
fence between the old school and her
hose.
* = * * * * =
We did not part after that for an-
other ten years, which she spent as
my beloved wife. Then she ieft me
to. go whence 1 can never recall her.
Yet there is. a irysting place in the
woods, through which: we once passed
as children, and often afterward as
lovers,
There I watch the, flecked sunlight,
and mark the quietness, and it seems
to me that I can “hear the silence.”
More than that, IT know the pure
soul looks at me through her honest
eves.—New York Weekly.
A Detective Fox Terrier.
The story of the dog which receatly
caused the discovery of a tragedy at
Brigend by barking outside the house
in which it was committed recalls a
sensational incident that took place in
Grand Canary a few years ago. A
young American was ratrdered for his
money in cne of the Spanish inns near
the harbor, and his fox terrier was
carried off to a plantation in the hills
by cne of his accomplices. Two years
later the dog was brought back again
to the town, and it immediately went
to a certain spot in the road, tried to
scratch a hole in it, and howled so
piteously that it attracted the attention
even of the Spanish policeman. This
led to the discovery of its master’
body and the final conviction of his
murderer.— London Chronicle,
S
A Poer Chicken,
little boy, who one day appeared in his
father’s study, clasping a forlorn little
chicken. “Willie,” said the father,
“take that chicken back to its mother.”
“Ain’t dot any modder,” answered
Willie. “Weil, then, take it back to
its father,” said the professor, deter-
mined to maintain parental authority.
“Ain’t dot any fader,” said the child,
“Ain’t dot anything but an old lamp.”
—New York Times,
A well-known professor has a bright
o
A NEW CAME or ‘DECEIT.
Passing Confederate Money
pecting Foreigners.
When you see a bill fluttering to the
ground from the pockets of a pedes-
trian don’t pay any attention to it, and
if the finder volunteers to split it with
yeu hang on to your money. Michael
Arzmann wishes he had followed this
advice.
Michael had a bad streak of luck yes-
terday. He is a hard working empioye
in the rolling mills. For two years he
has been saving his money to bring his
on Unsuse
wife from Germany. She arrived in
Milwaukee a few days ago. Michael
had found a suitable flat and paid $3
down to clinch the bargain. Clutclking
£7.50 in his hand he started off to pay
the balance of the first month's rent.
Crossing Sixth street viaduct he saw a
man ahead of him drop a bill which
appeared to be money. He picked it
1p. thought it was $50, and was in the
act of calling to the stranger to notify
him of his loss when another ap-
proce hed him and said:
the guy trying to show off
money. I know him well.
Used to pal with him. He would not
thank you if you, returned the
He has stacks of that. I'll tell
vou what. You keep the bill and just
give me one-half in change and no one
will be the wiser.”
“Good God, do I look as if I had that
et on to
that Le has
evel
money
much money about me? This is all
that I have,” showing the $7.50.
“You seem to be an honest chap, and
on second thought I do not need the
$25 as bad as you, seeing that your
wife has just blown into town. Give
me what you've got and I'll call around
for the balance later on.”
Michael turned over his money
pocketed the bill.
Michael hurried to his landlady.
With a profound bow he handed her
the newly found bill.
“Man, wnat are you trying to do!”
exclaimed the landlady fiercely. “I'll
teach you,that I am not to be trifled
with.”
She jumped upon the next car and
saw Inspector Riemer, After he had
heard her charges against Arzmann,
whom she accused of trying to pass
counterfeit money on her, he sent for
the unsuspecting Slavonian. As soon
as the inspector saw the scrap of paper
he smiled:
“That's
over.’?
and
Confederate. The is
—Milwaukee Sentinel.
ir
Trail Siguos.
First among the trail signs that are
used by Indians and white hunters,
and most likely to be of any use to the
traveler, says a writer in Country Life
in America; are aXe blazes on tree
trunks, These may vary greatly with
locality, but there is one everywhere
in vse with scarcely any variation.
This is simply the white spot, knicked
off by knife or axe, and meaning
“Here is the trail.”
war
The Ojibways and other woodland
{rihes use twigs for a great many
signs. The hanging broken twig, like
the simple blaze, means, “This is the
trail.” The twig clean broken off and
laid on the ground across the line of
march means, “Break from your
straight course and go in the line of
the butt end,” and when an especial
warning is meant, the butt is pointed
toward the one following the trail and
raised somewhat in a forked twig. If
the butt of the tavig were raised and
pointing to the left it would mean.
“Look out, camp,” or ‘ourselves, or
the enemy. or the game we have killed
is out that way.” Y
The old buffalo hunters had an es-
tablished signal that is yet used by
mountain guides. It is as follows:
“Two shots in rapid succession, an in-
terval of five seconds by the watch,
then one shot, means, ‘*Where are
you?’ The answer, given at once and
exactly the same, means, “Here I am;
WwW hat do you want?’ The reply to this
may be ome shot, which means, “Al
right; I only wanted to know where
you were.” But if the reply repeats
the first, it means, “I am in serious
trouble. Come as fast as you can.”
Artificial and Natural Silk.
Several processes are now employed
in Germany, Switzerland and Frauce
for the manufacture of artificial silk,
and one’ of the German associations is
said to be negotiating for the estab:
lishment of a factory in the United
States. In one of the latest processes
cellulose dissolved in ammoniated
oxide of copper is directly separated
from this solution in the form of
threads by the aid of an acid. Under
the microscope all artificial silks ave
seen to differ from natural silks by
possessing thicker threads. The artifi-
cial silks are also distended by water,
the threads increasing from one-third
to one-half in thickness, while natural
silks do mot perceptibly distend when
wet. Artificial silk is used instead of
straw for making hats. It serves well
for passementaries and cmbroideries,
and produces an exceilent quality of
human hair.
A Cute Oklahoma Woman,
The women of the Yankee States
may think that they are clever at driv-
ing bargains, but the claim is made
here now, without evasion or equivoca-
ticn,. that in Guthrie lives ‘a woman
without a parallel for commercial wit.
Severat months ago she entered a large
department store in New York City to
buy a yard of silk, which .the .clerk
told her would cost her thiriy-five
cents. Her purchase left a remnant of
one and one-half yards. The clerk sug-
gested that she buy the
What will you take for it?’ asked the
Guthrie woman. “Twenty - cents,
Madam,” replied the clerk politely.
“Well, I'll take it, but you can keep
the yard you've just torn off.” The
clerk was staggered for a moment, but
appreciating the humor of the proposal
smilingly made the exchange. Not the
least merit of this story is that it is
true.—Kansas City Times.
’
remnant. {
KEYSTONE STATE CULLINGS
SAND-BAGGED AND ROBBED
West Penn Railroad Conductor Re-
lieved of Considerable Muney cn
Street at Freeport.
Henry Brombach, a freight conduct-
or employed by the West Penn rail-
road was sand-bagged and robbed of
$147 and his ring while passing the
Guckenheimer distillery at Freeport.
Mr. Brombacu was painfully, but not
seriously hurt. He notified the police
as soon as he regarded consciousness.
A young man named Edward Petsing-
{ er was arrested on susplejon.
To increase its fr eight classification
yard facilities the Pennsylvania Rail
road company has purchased four of
the largest truck farms in ‘Central
Pennsylvania, located in South Hol-
lidaysburg, for $162,000. The pur
chase almost wipe out the trucking
industry in Blair county, and Altoona
and Hollidaysburg must hereafter de-
pend upon the Baltimore and Phila-
delphia markets for v table pro-
duce. The Horwindgvui Coal and
Coke company has taken an
land in East Hol liday sburg
the new freight classification yard of
the Pennsylvania Railroad company.
It is stated that a large pressed steel
car constructing and repair plant wil]
be erfcted on this land, which is an
ideal location for that purpose.
While answering an alarm of fire
the truck became unmanageable go-
ing down the hill on Forty-sixth street,
near Plummer street, Pittsburg. In
an effort to step the team the hors-
es were pulled from the road to the
sidewalk at the southwest corner of
Forty-sixth and Plummer streets,
crashing into the house of W. H.
Briggs. Men, women and children
were knocked down and trampled on
by the fire horses. Sixteen were in-
jured, two of them so seriously that
they were taken to St. Francis hospit-
al.
An attempt
option on
was made to blow up
the general store of the Alexandria
Supply Company at Crabtree, West-
moreland County. It is said defective
dyramite was all that saved the
building and several persons who
were sleeping on the premises from
destruction. Only a small portion of
the dynamite was ignited by the slow
fuse placed under the building. The
building was damaged, but no one was
hurt. Censtable James Martin ar-
rested John Kermiffo and Mates
Haito on suspicion.
A deal in real estate believed to
make certain that tht Fennsylvania
railroad will build the proposed new
four-track line from Beatty to Greens-
burg has been consummated. The
farm of Lee Swaney, of Youngstown,
which lies to the north side of the
railroad’s present line, was sold to
Recorder of Deeds James Gallagher,
who it is believed is acting for the
railroad company. The proposed line
runs through the farm. The consid-
eration was about $7,500.
While surveying for the nw ovens
at Grays Landing James A. Kennedy,
of the Fayette Engineering company,
found the remains of an Indian chief.
The bones were all in a good state
of preservation, especially the jaw-
bone. In the midst of the bones were
found 44 beads, each about two inch-
es long, which were evidently made
from bear tusks. The beads were at-
tached to a chain around the body of
the chief.
During a severe
which passed over
Fayette county
electrical storm
Connellsville and
one man was killed
and several places were struck by
lightning. The man killed is un-
known and was on Division island, in
the Youghiogheny river, with three
companions. All his pockets contain-
ed was a Baltimore & Ohio waybill
containing the words; “pick up at
Barnestown, W. Va.”
Martin Shultz, a coke worker, was
beaten to death while on his way to
work in Continental mine No. 1 near
Uniontown. Justice of the peace M.
B. Clifford found the body about day
light Shultz’s head was mashed so
badly that he could hardly be recog
nized. County Detective: Alexander
McBeth has made information against’
Andrew Masticheck. charging
with the killing of Shultz.
Dr. O. L. Blachley, of Wilkinsburg,
received a telegram notifying him
of the drowning of his son at Jack-
son’s Point, Canada, on July 4. The
young man had gone to Canada with
his brother, Stephen, and Mr. and
Mrs. I. Thomas, of Wilkinsburg, a
week ago. He was a sophomore at
Washington and Jefferson College.
The Connellsville Machine
Car Company, one of the oldest
manufacturing concerns in the coke
region, has been reorganized with a
capital] of $150,000. Its plant
burned several months ago. The new
plant will be built on the site of the
him
land
old one.
In the Legionville district, Beaver
county, Snyder & Co., have drilled
their test on the Simon Phillips farm
through the 100-foot sand and have a
light show of oil. They will tube and
test. A considerable flow of salt water
was encountered.
James D. Moffat, Jr.,
and Jefferson student, son of Presi-
dent James D. Moffat, was shot in
the right arm by a colored man, who
had been angered by an injury in-
flicted upon him by another person.
Patrick O’Rourke, a fireman in the
employ of the Lehigh Valley railroad
for the past 36 years, was struck by
Delaware and Hudson railroad freight
engine and killed. He was 51 years
old
1. B. Flet
a Washington
cher of Pittsburgh
chased the Peerless lead glass works
of Ellwood City at publie¢ sale, the
purchase price being $10,150 Fletch-
er will operate the plant, which em-
ploys over 150 men.
A masked man entered
railroad ticket office at
and at the point of a revolver held
up Night Operator R. F. Rose and
robbed the cash drawer of over $100.
The robber escaped.
Rural free delivery
was ordered established September
at Mosgrove, Armstrong county,
8Llv 490 persons and 98 houses
pur-
the Erie
Greenville,
route. No. 2
ing
adjoining
was ;
A "WOMAN'S MISERY.
iaterson
Mrs. John LaRue, of 115
Avenue, Paterson, N. J., says: “I was
troubled for about mine years, and
whac "1 suf-
fered no one
will ever
know. 1 used
about every
known reme-
dy that is said
to be good for
kidney
plaint,
without deriv-
ing permanent
relief. Often
when alone in
the Bouse the back ache has been so
bad that it brought tears to my eyes.
The pain at fimes was so intense that I
was compelled to give up my household
duties and lie down. There were head-
aches, dizziness and blood rushing to
my head to cause bleeding at the nose.
The first box of Doan’s Kidney Pills
benefited me so much that I continued
the treatment. The stinging pain in
the small of my back, the rusbes of
blood to the head and other symptoms
disappeared.”
Doan’s Kidney Pills are for sale by alt
dealers, 50 cents per box. Ioster-Mil-
burn Co., Buffalo, N. Y.
Quebec's New Fortifications.
The Dominion government is about
to enter upon the construction of gi-
gantic military works in the city and
district of Quebec. . The old citadel is
to be overhauled, and the three forts
at Point Levis, and big guns put on
all of them. At Beaumont, nine miles
from the city, on the south shore,
two large fortresses aret to be con-
structed, commanding a full view of
the channels up and down i river
and costing about $3,000,00 ‘When
they are done Quebec can pe. to sleep
at night with an added sense of secur-
ity, though it is a question whether
it will be a bit safer than it is now
and has been ever since Woife and
Montcalm, for the time being, settled
its status on the Heights of Abra-
ham.
T.aliag Can Waa» Shani
One size smaller after usin» Allen’s Foote
Ease, a nowder. It makes tight or new shoes
easy. Cures swollen, hot, sweating, aching
feet, ingrowing nails, corns and bunions., At
all druggists and shoo stores, 25c. Don’t ace
cept anv substitute. Trial package Frer by
mail. Address, Allen 8, Olmsted, LeRoy, N.Y.
Russia has eighty-six general holidays in
a year.
.
The Jews celebrate this year the.
250th anniversary of their settlement
in the United States.
BABYS TERRIBLE SORE
Body Raw With Humor-—Caused Untold
Agony=Doctor Did No Good—Mother’
Discouraged—Cuticura Cured at Once.
“My child was a very delicate baby. A
terrible sore and humor broke out on his
body, looking like raw flesh, and causing
the child untold agony. My physician pre-
scribed various remedies, none of which
helped at all. I became discouraged and
took the matter into my own hands, and
tried Cuticura Soap and Cuticura Ointment
with almost immediate success. Before
the second week had passed the soreness
was gone, not leaving a trace of anything,
Mrs. Jeannette H. Block, 281 Rosedale Sti,
Rochester, N. Y.”
Hidden Money Produced.
Not very long ago William Mar-
tin, a business man of Martinsburg,
Washington county, has brought into
New Albany a considereable sum of
money, which consists entirely of old
‘“‘greenbacks’” issued before 1865. A
great part of this money had evident-
ly been secreted for many years, as
it was covered with mold. It had ap-
parently not been in circulation. Sev-
eral hundred dolars of the money was
in compound interest notes issued
during the last years of the Civil war.
The money, Mr. Martin said, was a
part of a large sum left by a wealthy
farmer of Washington county, Ky.,
who died a few years ago, and was
being put in circulation by the heirs
of his handsome estate. = While not
at all miserly, he was careful and
prudent, and, being distrustful of
banks, he had kept his money secret-
ed about his house. The greater part
of his accumulations had been on
hand for more than forty years, and
had the money been put at interest
it would have more than doubled it-
self during the years it had lain idle.
—Iouisville Courier-Journal,
Longest Tunnel.
The Simplion is the longest tunnel
in the world, and has been finished in
the face of tremendous difficulties,
most of which were entirely unex-
pected, and many of which presented
new problems for engineers. It ex-
tends from Brieg in Switzerland to
Iselle in Italy, the total length being
a little over 12% miles—21,576 yards
in fact.
COMES A TIME
When Coffee Shows What It Has Been
Doing.
“Of late years coffee has disagreed
with me,” writes a matron from Rome,
N. Y,, “it’s lightest punishment was to
make me ‘logy’ and dizzy, and it
seemed to thicken up my blood.
“The heaviest was when it upset my
stomach completely, destr oying my ap-
petite and making me nervous and irri-
table, and sent me to my bed. After
one of these attacks, in which I nearly
lost my life, I concluded to quit and
try Postum Food Coffee,
“It went right to the spot! I found it
not only a most palatable and refresh-
ing beverage, but a food as well,
All my ailments, the ‘loginess’ and
dizziness, the unsatisfactory condition
of my. blood, my nervousness and irri-
tability disappeared in short order and
my sorely afilicted stomach began
quickly to recover, I began to re build
and have steadily continued until now.
Have a good appetite and am rejoicing
in sound health, which I owe to the
use of Postum Food Coffee.” Name
given by Postum Co., Battle Creek,
Mich.
There’s a reason.
Read the little book, “The Road to
Wellville,” found in each pkg.
i
|
!
|!
”
otis
71
A SCHO
DR. W
Subj
i Brook]
the mo
“Church
was fro
: saw no
man sai
Amon;
apocaly]
derstood
out wit!
that is
church,
same cl
and suf
white al
Here w
There t
know ir
are kno
divine 1
mation
essentia
of God
capital
God. FE
bol are
learn as
negativ
ly. Th
gold ar
glass al
tiful tl
that is
SOITOW,
There |
cedon}
sardon
topaz
and a
is, w
ship
' God
Him
in tr
ings
tem
deat
she