er re ———— NS » ‘her eyes, SONG. Balt whistling wind for the home-turned The buried pearl for the oce: sail, The siren song for the sea, The nightingale for the lotus vale— ut the voice of my love for mel! The lighthouse flame for the angry deep, The star for the twilight tree, The flashing dream through the mists of sleep— But the eyes of my love for me! an-bed, - the iree-swun Oh, heart of my love! All gifts of the Are as ropes of life’s prize ) And its star and its song in thee. Oh voice, ch eyes! d to me sand, since 1’ ve found —NMargaret Ridgely Schott, in Lippincott’s. The golden tide of sunlight crept steadily across the floor. Mrs. Petty, from the lounge, watched it with fas- cinated eyes. Mrs. Bilberry had been there exactly two hours and ten min- utes. If she stayed ten minutes longer the sunlight would reach the table and reveal the gray bloom of twenty-four hours’ dust, and five minutes after that it would discover the spot on the carpet where the boys had spilled the ink the day before, and then the ragged place in front of the bookcase, and then— With a determined effort turned her thoughts hospitably to- ward her caller. Mrs. Bilberry's gen- erous figure was surging back and forth in a protesting rocking-chair, full of sympathetic interest, were fixed upon her silent hostess, and her hearty voice flowed on and on. ‘““And to-morrow morning I'm com- ing over to do your baking for you. No, don't say a word. 1 can do it just as well as not. No matter if 1 have work of my own; I can manage both without breaking my bones. 1 know how vou feel laid up with that sprained ankle, but you mustn't get discouraged.” Mrs. Petty had started up from the lounge. She fell back again instant- ly, but the distress in her face was not from the pain. “Oh, you mustn’t!”’ she cried. “It’s real kind of you, but I couldn't think of letting you take all that trouble. Rachel can do everything we'll neéd; she’s real handy about cooking.” Mrs. Bilberry beamed with gener- ous kindliness. ‘Now don’t go pro- testing, Mrs. Petty,” she said. ‘I know how much cooking a child like Rachel will do. 1 sha'n't let any of my neighbors suffer as long as I'm able to be about.” “But Rachel cooks real well. I've been planning things out while I've been lying here, and I'm sure we’ll get along all right.” She lcoked pleadingly at her call- er, and then, reading in her de- termined glance the evidence of un- she . changed purpose, hurried desperately on: “But there's one thing I would be glad of, since you've been so kind about offering. If it wouldn't be too much to ask, I'd be real grateful to have a little help with the mending. I let it run behind while IT was doing the house-cleaning, and now it’s about got to the point that* nobody has anything whole to wear. Of course 1'l1l1 be sitting up in a day or two, as soon as my back gets straight- ened out, and then I can get on; but just for this week—Rachel has so much to do with housework and les- sons, too—"’ Her voice trailed off interrogatively. It made her quiver to think of anybody's seeing the way she made over the boys’ stockings, or the. ir- regular darns upon Rachel’s—she was afraid Rachel never would learn to be handy with her needle — but ‘that was better than having some one step into her kitchen. Mrs. Bilberry carefully extracted herself from the rocker and stood over the lounge with an air of kindly authority. : “You're all worked up, worrying,” she declared, ‘and I sha'n’t let you talk another mite. As for the mend- ing, why, that will fit in an as easy as can be. I'll be over by nine o’clock, and I'll cook enough to last a good part of the week. Wouldn't you rest better if I pulled down the curtains? #1 guess I would,” Mrs. Petty agreed, faintly. The sun had not quite reached the spot on the car- pet, but she was too tired now to care anything about it. “There, now, I've darkened the room, nd you'll have time for a good nap before the children get home from school. Good-by, and be sure you don't worry.” Mrs. Bilberry closed the door soft- ly and stepped out into the crisp October afternoon. She had her head well up and looked round her with the kernest pleasure. The con sciousness of the neighborly kindness she planned gave her the sensation of a deserved holiday—the right to en- joy the world. “Poor thing,”” she thought, com- passionately, ‘‘it’s hard for her. There’s nothing more treacherous than a bad sprain. Well, I guess I can hold out as long as she needs me.” Back in the shaded sitting-room Mrs. Petty lay with two red spots burning in her cheeks. Even now that her caller had gone she could not relax. Her thoughts kept cir cling about the morning; she even found herself counting the hours be- fore her neighbor would reappear. When Rachel came home from school, her mother called excitedly: “Rachel, come here, quick!” Rachel dropped her books and ran nto the room. She was a slender jittle creature, ‘vith a thin, sensitive face. and her eyes were dark with glarm, but she tried to speak quietly "A NEIGHBORLY KINDNESS. a SENN ENE ENENENEN ENE “What is it, mother?’’ she asked. “Are you worse? Shall I run for the doctor?” Mrs. Petty was sitting up on the lounge, her face twitching with ex- citement. “Go right upstairs and put on your old work dress,” she or- dered. ‘No, I'm not sick, child; I'm just upset. You do as I say.” Rachel hurried up-stairs without a word. In less than five minutes she was back. Her small face might have been a mirror reflecting her mother’s anxiety, but she still asked no ques- tions. Rachel had always been ‘grown-up in her ways,’ and her in- tuitions were fine and unerring. Her mother looked at her, worried lines furrowing her forehead. “It’s too bad to take your Friday afternoon, Rachel,” she said, “but I don’t see any other way. Mrs. Bil- berry’s just been in, and says she’s coming over to do the cooking to- morrow morning. 1 told her you could do all we'd need, but that didn’t make any difference; she'd made up her mind to come, and she’s By MABEL NELSON THURSTON. ENIINENEN coming. She said she'd be over by nine o'clock.” Rachel grasped the situation in- stantly, and her face sharpened with dismay. She was her mother's own daughter “And the kitchen hasn't been cleaned yet!” she gasped. “You were leaving it till the last.” “I'd like to lock the door to-mor- row morning!” her mother cried. But Rachel was wholly concerned with actualities. She well knew the futility of locking a door against Mrs. Bilberry, either literaily or fig- uratively. “1 could clean some,” she said, “but } uldn’t reach the highest places, and it would show the differ- ence.” “Indeed, you're not going to climb round any step-ladders,”” her mother declared,emphatically. ““Onesprained ankle in the family is enough. But you can put fresh papers on the lower shelves in the pantry and clean out the kitchen closet a little, and I'm afraid you'll have to wipe up the floor.” Rachel nodded. She went out to the kitchen and put on a kettleful of water to heat. Then she set resolute- ly to work upon the kitchen closet. Every housekeeper knows the meral depravity of a kitchen closet. When at last kettles, pots and pans were restored to their places it was half-past four. Rachel gave a glance at the kitchen closet clock and then sea her lips resolutely. ‘“They’ll have to have bread and milk for supper to-night,” she said. She cleaned the stove next and scoured the kitchen table, and then began scrubbing the fiocor. It was while she was in the midst of that that the boys appeared, hungry for supper. Rachel lifted her tired face. “Don’t come in one step!” she cried. “There isn’t going to be any supper to-night! Go straight out into the yard and stay there!” The boys looked at each other in amazement, and then slowly retreat- ed to discuss the situation. They were still in the thick of the sub- ject when Rachel appeared with a plateful of bread and butter and an- other of cookies. “I didn’t mean on be cross,” she apologized, ‘‘only—things have hap- pened, ard 1 was so tired. This will have to be your supper to-night.” The boys met her manfully. “I guess we didn’t mind very much about what you said,” Harvey de- clared. “No,” Ralph echoed. “These cook- jes are first-class, Rachel.” And Rachel went back to ber werk com- forted. - By six o'clock the kitchen was cleaned, and everything was done ex- cept putting the fresh paper on the pantry shelves. Rachel stopped then to set out more bread and cookies and cold meat for her father, and make tea for her mother. Her moth- er looked from Rachel’s tired face to her smail, reddened hands and bony wrists, and a fierce anger seized her. “¥ou’re not to do a single other thing!”’ she declared. “I don’t care if a th sand Mrs. Bilberrys are com- ing over to-morrow. I'm not going to let you wear ycurself all out.” ‘“What’s Rachel been doing?’ her father asked. ‘““She’s been cleani what she’s bee: returned. afterncon, a over to-morrow cooking. n dc s. Bilberry said she was coming morning to do the I told her we didn’t need 'body, but she didn’t take it in at al So we couldr’t have her come into such a lo kitchen, and king Rachel’s been cleaning it.” “Why didn’t you tell her that you didn’t want ber?’ Rachel's father asked, indignantly. He was very fond of Rachel. Mrs. Petty sighed. knew from past i € ibili- ty of making a man understand. | Mrs. Bilberry meant to be kind—she was kind, of course—only she didn't realize all the trouble it would make. I couldn't let anybody come into a dirty kitchen, though I wish I had, now that Rachel's so tired.” “But I've nearly finished now, mother,” Rachel reminded her. “You've quite finished. You're 3 not going to do another thing. ‘“Only the papers on the pantry shelves. That isn't hard. Oh, I'll have to go to the store for some new cake tins—you know ours are too bad for anybody to use.” But Mrs. Petty had reached the limit of concession to Mrs. Bilberry or anybody else. “You're going to bed!” she de- clared. “Your father can go-for the cake tins, and the pantry will have to stay as it is.” Promptly at nine the next morning Mrs. Bilberry appeared. Rachel was just putting away the last of the breakfast dishes. Mrs. Bilberry greeted her with breezy benevolence. “There, Rachel, you show me whereabou.s things are, and then you can go. 1 told your mother you weren't either of you to have a mite of care about the cooking, and 1 meant what I said. The flour and sugar are in those barrels, I suppose, and I've found the eggs for myself. How much milk have you?” “Nearly a pint. It's down cellar.” “Well, before you settle down to anything you might as well run out and get a quart more. I thought I'd make an Indian pudding while I'm about it.” : Rachel hesitated, her face full of anxiety. “I don't know as—we eat Indian pudding,” she stammered. “Well, you'll eat my Indian pud- ding,” Mrs. Bilberry returned, with unruffled good nature. ‘‘There’s no- body can bake a better Indian pud- ding than I, if I do say it; and be- sides, somebody else's cooking al- ways tastes good for a change. I'll make up a batch of apple pies, too, and a loaf of cake, and then you'll be fixed for some days. If you're going down cellar you might's well bring up the butter and a pan of ap- ples. I'm sort of hefty to go up and down-stairs, and I guess your feet can save me that much.” Rachel went down for the butter and apples, and again for the lard, which Mrs. Bilberry had forgotten to mention the first time. Then she went to a neighbor’s for the milk and to the store for lemon extract. Her small face grew more and more anx- ious. None of the Pettys care very much for pies, and Mrs. Bilberry was making so many. Once Rachel ventured a timid remonstrance, but Mrs. Bilberry only laughed. “I know what ’'tis to bake for men- folks,” she said. ‘It takes a sight to fill them up. If you don’t mind, Rachel, you might just finish cutting those apples while I roll out the crust.” So Rachel finished slicing the ap- ples, and when those were done, she creamed the butter and sugar for the cake and beat the eggs and grated nutmeg, and then began to wash the cooking dishes. Finally the cake and part of the pies and the pudding were in the oven, and Mrs. Bilberry went into the sitting-room and sank down upon one of the chairs. The cake was per- fect and the pies deliciously brown, and the rooms full of their warm, spicy fragrance. “I can’t stop but a minute,” she said. “I've got to be going along home. I guess everything's done now, and all Rachel will have to do will be to watch the baking of what's in the oven. 1 guess everything turned out good.” “It’s been real kind of you, I'm sure,” Mrs. Petty replied. She felt that she was wickedly ungrateful, but she could think of nothing but Rachel’s weary little face as she had caught sight of it through the kitchen door. Mrs. Bilberry beamed cordially upon her. ‘Now don’t say a word about it—ever!” she commanded. “It’s been a real pleasure to do it. I ain’t one that people have to fix up for. I can step right in anywhere and make myself at home, and like to. Now next Saturday I'd as lief come over again—"’ But Mrs. Petty interrupted her. “Oh, no, I couldn't think of letting vou take so much trouble again. I'm sure I'll get around next week, and Rachel and I can manage beau- tifully.”’ “Well,” Mrs. Bilberdy responded, rising, “I hope you will, I'm sure, but if you don’t, I can come in again just as well as not. There's not very much I can do in the world, but I do lay out to be a good neighbor. T'11 be over in a day or two to see how you're getting on. Good-by! Good- bye, Rachel! Be sure to watch those pies.” “Yes'm, back. As the gate closed behind the port- ly figure, Rachel and her mother ex- changed a glance of sympathetic comprehension. Then Rachel dis- appeared again into the kitchen; it was time to begin about dinner. Mrs. Petty, reaching down, pulled from under the lounge a basket heaped with mending, and propping herself against the pillows, set to work. It hurt her back to sit up, but she did not mind the pain. The morning was over at last. Rachel should restgall the afternoon and Sunday, and Mrs. Bilberry had forgotten the mending, and need never know how Mrs. Petty made over the boys’ stockings.—Youth’s Companion. I will!” Rachel called = oe The prairie dog is one of the most dainty of animals. It makes for its self a fresh bed of straw every night, ‘I some sixty SEEDLESS ORANGES Are Responsible For Millions of Cali- fornia's Wealth. The introduction of the seedless navel orange has revolutionized the orange industry of the United States. It has drawn 13,000 men from other pursuits and transformed vast areas of sunbaked ‘land in California into orange groves. It has been the prime factor in the growth of a dozen towns of 5000 and 10,000 persons in southern California and has added directly more than $43,000,060, and in- directly $60,000,000 more to the tax- able wealth of the State. The first seedless orange trees were apparently freaks of natura and their counterparts have never been found. Early in the ‘70's Wil- liam Judson, United States consul! to Bahia, Brazil, heard an account from natives of a few trees in the swamps on the banks of the Amazon, miles away. He sent a native up the river to get some of the fruit and to bring him some of the shoots of the tree. ‘When the native returned the con- sul was delighted with the speci- mens and sent six of the shoots, carefully packed in moss and clay, to the Department of Agriculture at Washington. The trees did not ex- cite much interest at the depart. ment. Two which were planted in the department grounds died for lack of care and others were for- gotten for months. The crop of the first years netted sixteen seedless oranges, and those were exhibited all over California. There were about * box of oranges in the second yield and they were even better than the first crop. The planting of groves of seedless oranges propagated from the budy from the two original trees began in earnest in 1882. The following vear the demand for buds from the Tibbet trees were so large that a dozen buds sold frequently for $5, and some growers paid even as high as $1 apiece for them. Remarkable But True Statement. Hon. Francis S. Hesseltine, of our Boston Bar, sends to Our Dumb Ani- mals the following, written to him by Dr. J. Langdon Sullivan, a promi- nent physician: “The facts you ask for are as fol- lows: Twenty years ago a gentleman brought to my office a large, ver handsome intelligent spaniel = whose right foreleg was bags broken, the bone being grown out o place. On the master’s assurance that the dog would not bite me I set the leg. Drawing the bony frag- ments into place caused severe un- avoidable pain. The animal whim- pered, but displayed no anger, and allowed the dressing to remain un- disturbed until I removed it when firm union had resulted. I saw nc more of my canine patient nor of his owner for two years. Then (again on a summer's morning) I heard 2 loud scratching at my office door. I opened it and there stood my old spaniel friend, wagging his tail. Be- side him stood a fine black-and-tan with a round French nail driven clear through his right paw. I patted the spaniel, called both dogs in, re moved the nail and sent both away happy, trotting side by side as if nothing had happened. I have never seen anything of either since.” The Forest Giant. The Gladwin Record gives a splen- did view of what it regards as prob- ably the last big log rollway or Cedar River. The long stretch of logs and handsome river scene maka a magnificent spectacle, yet it can: not be contemplated without a feel ing of sadness in the breast of every old lumberman who will behold in it the passing of what once seemed a serried and unconquerable army of forest giants, capable of holding out, with petty losses, for all time, against civilization and the lumber barons. A scene in camp, with old Angus Macdonald and his husky ox team at the front, affords an inter- esting study. Grizzled Mack, now verging on seventy, but still as hale and hardy as an old buck, has spent fifty-two winters in the lumber woods, and it would not be strange if with his love for the forest it will be his dying request to be allowed tc stand in the range of the last lumber monarch to be felled on the Cedar River, and in its crash meet a glor- ious death beneath its sturdy trunk; for what would there be left for rug- ged “Old Mack” worth while living for?—Detroit News. Curious Habits of Foxes. The animals on which usually preys often touched round his home: and it is even asserted that nothing is killed on the side of the hill in which that home is made. In a small patch of nettles withir a few fect of the mouth of the foxes earth a partridge placed. her nest and brought off her brood. Round this nettle bed the cubs were constantly to be seen, and in it they played hide and In another case the entrance to an earth was surrounded by five or six rabbit holes the tenants of which were unmolested by their next door neighbors. In a third a litter of cubs was placed in a large pit surrounded by fencing, from which there was no es- cape and in which there were a num- ber of rabbits. None of these wat the for left un- are seek. attacked by the cubs, though the) would seize a dead rabbit in full of sight of the person who had shol { . : Mativd ‘and thrown it to them.—Nativd Notes. YANKEES SPEND $400,000,000 ...IN EUROPE YEARLY ---A., B. HEPEVURN. New Yerk Banker Blames the Extravagance of American Tour- ists For the Stringent Monetary Conditions Here— Steamship Men Think His Figures Too High —$85,000,000, Cook’s Agency Be- lieves,Will Cover the Ex- penditures in 1906. Americans Abrcad Will Spend First class— 79,000 tourists, 38,500 tourists, 6 weeks at $8 24,000 tcurists, 8 weeks at $10 14.500 tourists, 12 weeks at $10 Second class— 4 weeks at $6 Total. . Cook's. The folowing estimate of the number cf Americans visit- ing Europe in 1906, with their expenditures, is compiled from opinions given by Thomas Cook & Sons: ESTIMATE OF NUMBER OF TOURISTS. Passengers to Burope (first class) in 1904 ..,..... }! 80,021 Same in 1905... .. .5) -4cicernssnonne ove, 87,641 Same (estimated) for 1906........ ce seis .sa. 96,000 Passengers to Eurcpe (second class, estimated) in 1906. ... Lea, hae, 83,500 CCST OF OCEAN VOYAGE. Cost of first class round trip (average).. .. .. .. $175 Tips, Bret class... .. .... 0... .... le. ciel... 10 First class passengers, round voyage and tips ....17,760,000 Second class passengers, round voyage.. ... .... 7,5 COST OF STAY IN EUROPE. $3,500 tourists, expenses in Europe at $125 each. $85,000,000 in 1906, Says per diem. ....... 3,200,600 per diem........ 13,000,000 per diemi,....... 21,500,000 ver diem........ 12,180,000 ..10,447,500 cro cove ea $85,102,000 How can less than 100,000 per- sons spend half a billion dollars in Europe this year? A. Barton Hepburn, formerly Comptroller of the Treasury and now President of the Chase Na- tional Bank, asserts that at least $400,000,000,but probably the larger sum, is what it will cost this coun- try for the expenses of its tourists in 1906. Mr. Hepburn’s sources of informa- tion include the biggest bankers, American and foreign, in New York, and his experience in the United States Treasury, gives his opinion great weight among financiers. Mr. Hepburn said: “The extravagant expenditures of American tourists abroad are in a great degree responsible for the present conditions in the money mar- ket. These expenditures now reach the enormous sum of $400,000,000 or $500,000,000 a year. The sub- ject was discussed recently by a number of gentlemen prominent in financial affairs who have facilities for gathering information on such a subject, and the lowest estimate by any of them was $400,000,000. Several of them thought this esti- mate was too low, and placed their estimate at $500,000,000 a year. Offsets the Trade Balance. “This vast sum about offsets the great trade balance in favor of the United States each year. According to the best information obtainable on the subject, our floating debt to Europe at the present time is be-~ tween $300,000,000 and $500,000,- 000. This is in addition to the great sum spent by American tour- ists. “When John Sherman was Secre- tary of the Treasury, about a quar- ter of a century ago, he made a care- ful investigation through foreign bankers and foreign exchange houses as to the Yull amount that was at that time expended every year by these tourists. He found these expenditures amounted to $100,000,000 a year. “At that time there were few mul- ti-millionaires in the country. Now there are many of this class who maintain great establishments abroad, but their disbursements do not by any means represent all the American money that goes into Eu- ropean pockets. The tourists come from all parts of the country, and in- clude people of moderate means, as well as those of wealth. “Our bank keeps cone of its bright- est young men constantly employed in attending to the wants of these tourists. The expenditures are grow- ing larger every year. But fcr them there would be an annual monetary balance in favor of the United States that would in a few years pile up an enormous sum.” Extent of European Travel. It is estimated by steamship men that more than 100,000 men, women and children kave paid first-class passage ‘‘across the pond’ this year, perhaps the biggest year of Euro- pean travel. The second-class pas- sengers, wno spend less, may bring the total up to 180,000. Supposing that 20,000 of the steerage passen-— gers are ‘‘tourists,” that makes 200, 000 in all. To spend even $400,000,000 in Europe these tourists would be ob- liged to pay out $2000 each. Ex- perts declare no such sum is spent on the average. A $2000 tariff, they say, would bring the army of ocean-goers down to a handful of a few thousands. The persons who pay $700 for a stateroom or $1500 for a parlor or cabin de luxe on translatlantic stezmers are few in- deed. So also the millionaires who go abroad for a few months, scatter money right and left, take a ducal house in London for the season, a chateau in Languedoc, and perhaps a castle in Spain are also very few. . The estimate of Mr. Hepburn was submitted to Thomas Cook & Son, who have wide experience in the tourist business. Mr. Keyser, mana-~ ger of Cook’s booking department, said: JI don't believe it. It doesn’t stand to reason. Our business touches, in general, persons from moderately rich to those with small incomes. Going to Europe is not so costly a job, when it's figured out right, as many think. “Once you're on the other side you can travel and stcp wherever you like, with good accommodations, all covered by an expense of $6 to $10 a day. Any more can be set down to extravagance, or at least to lavish- ness. I could tell you of the ex- travagance of a few of our sudden- ly-rich Americans, but as a factor in American expenditures abroad these extravagant individuals count for very little. “Bear in mind that a trip to Europe is the dream df almost every cultivated American. School teach- ers save their salaries for years to go. Ministers, also, try to save a little out of their small pay, or their congregations raise a small purse for them. Merchants and profes- sional men in small towns all over the country try to set aside enough to take their families tc England or France or Italy. Expenses Generally Small. . “They are all so eager to go that as soon as they can see their way to cover closely calculated expenses they start. That means a small average of expenses. Besides, most European travelers come back with ten per cent. of their letters of credit unexpended.”’ : A steamship agent expressed th opinion that there was positive gain in European travel. He said: “A business man takes his family over. He canhot help seeing how the men in his line of business in England, Germany anywhere — carry it on. Maybe he gains points that he can apply to his own advan- tage in his business at home. Most often he sees chances to increase his business by selling to ‘Europe. “Aside from that, no economist will claim that mceney spent for cul- ture, for broader views and general enlightenment, is wasted, even if it be spent in ano r country. Ii is sure to come b at least tenfold.” The Traveling Salesman. “Better than a letter from your wife, sweetheart or even President Roosevelt, is a letter from your firm increasing your salary,” was the in- teresting comr of H. J. Williams, of La Crosse, ting in the lobby of the Kirby Hou “I just received such an epistle is morning, and I feo] like a prince. Had I received a notification reducing my stipend I would not have been greatly sur- prised, because sales recently have been nothi to brag of, and if the firm thinks } ng me a finan- will be more no- ticeable, it won be disappointed, because I am going to start out to- day and work like a major and prove to my people that I am worthy of the confidence shown me, There ars cial lift my res times in the life of a traveling sales- man, when, no matter how hard he tries, he doesn’t do enough business in a day, or even a week, to make him feel like thinking of his occu- pation. And ther again, the re- Verse takes place, but between these two we manage to even up the sales. “Persistency is what wins with us fellows. No matter how angry your customer gets after the fifteenth or twentieth refusal to give you an order and you are not convinced he needs something in your. line; adopt the schoolday proverb and try again. Your pluck may elicit his admiration unless he throws you bodily out of the store, and nine times out of ten you land him.” -=Mijlwaukee Evening Wisconsin, Can “‘vain’ knowi may | and thems graph New Wwoma ty on be der sSymme sitter’ not lo knows tures have public public: not pr would The fashio; amate: patter: sufficie of the fasten have t waiste that a that «c jacket the eff With be tur: when not loc in plac A g( who h: a lace There choose prices sible t tively this d much Tho: subject at-hom tinguis called light © in the fast w noon, mornin ferred plenty velop i body, the be too exa ed mill as this ment gestive 7 to be te of indi somew! : cise the pie ing. { fruit, A the dir i fish, s¢ i salad, : coffee, Harper Ca : Cana 3 reputat f men ou immigr f for it { new Se Canada not m them | eight 1 4 marriec * a part of men is velopm ’ tlers ce man pl as man try, th worried ation. with tl I ma » Y.) from S crowde Govern: Domini the new B send tc ray Now, i i Canada { solved, women —Roch aL By r dark ro a bit of
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers