THE BOY ON ‘ MWho fears the first carol of song-birds When glad springtime awakes them to song ; NTho cs atches the music of waters As they're rushing so swiftly along? Who inhales the ric ch odors of blossoms With the perfume God drops from on i v Who os in the ozone of heaven Neath the dome of the far-jeweled sky? Who revels in fruits from the orchard As he rests ‘neath the old apple tree? Who's alert to the thrum of the pheasant And the still sweeter hum of the bee? Me whose cheek bears the bronze of the sunbeams ‘And whose ts soul is o'erfull of carth’s THE FARM. charm} "Tis the youth Nature— Yea, the boy who lives out on the farm. » »* * who abides with Dame There are thousands who dwell in the city With its whirl and its grime and its din, Who'd exchange all thegold in their coffers To escape their environs of sin. They long to go back to the wildwood. Where their brows may be cooled by the breeze, And recal] the dear scenes of their child- 00 As they rest ‘neath trees. —Solon L. Goode, “the shade of the in American Farmer. CN GEST 4% ESeseSaaanpn * 30 On a Buoy. Barrel. ( Ne - BY i ger The gold double-eagle offered by | the owners of the Boothbay handliner Pance for the biggest cod on the win- ter trip. to ’Quereau spiced every nibble that was telegraphed ap through briny fathoms to the cal- Joused forefingers of the lonely sit- ters in the ice-glazed dories. After the first week every. man's gunwale-notches kept pace with the longest fish to date, so-that he could satisfy himself about the size of a new catch Dofore regaining the _&g¢haooner. Each record-holder in turn boasted of what he would do with that twenty dollars, only to drop into chagrined silence when some mate rowed in (with a fresh monster whose scaly fale overlapped the slowly increasing Jimit.-- - Up it crept, inch by inch: forty-seven, forty-seven and three- quarters, forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one and a half, where it hung for a week, then leaped to fifty-four. There it stuck for fifteen days, so long that Sam Eaton's thumb could almost feel the milled edge of the coin, until one squally March afternoon Jerry Dixon, a white-crested mile dead to leeward of the vessel, struck his gaff into a giant fully fifty-eight inches long. Dixon had a hard tussle to get his prize aboard. A hundred-pound fish is no easy proposition for a man in a jumping dory and a heavy sea. The northeast wind was blowing up a storm; already the white flakes were whirling between him and the vessel. When he glanced toward her he saw that a basket had been hung in the fore-rigging to summon in the dories. He stood up and looked about. All his mates were making for shelter, like hawk-affrighted chicks for the mother hen. Farthest to leeward and engrossed with his big fish, he had deen the last to notice the signal. By the time he had got his anchor up and was settled on the thwart for his long pull to windward, a fierce gale was driving the white horses down upon him, and the schooner was almost hidden by the snow. He shot a final glance back over his shoulder to decide his course, just as a small cask was dropped over the Lance’s rail. “There goes the buoy barrel,” thought he, as he buckled vigorously to his oars. The schooner had done all she could for him; the rest was in his own hands. Almost every banker carries on deck an empty, strongly headed iron- hooped fish barrel, bearing a becket with a thimble in its centre. To this is attached one end of a 500-fathom coil of stout nine-thread Manila, the other end being made fast to a cavel, or cleat, well afr. Occasionally a sudden winter storm catches a vessel with all her dories out. Those to windward can get in without much difficulty, but the lee- ward boats stand a harder chance. Now and then some poor fellow, after almost rowing his arms off, gives out a half-mile or more away. Then the barrel is cast over, and drifts rapidly down before wind and sea, until the imperiled fisher gaffs it aboard and fastens it to his painter, when he is pulled in, dory and all, by the strong arms of his mates. It is not always easy for a man to reach the barrel, even if he knows that his life hangs in the balance. Dixon soon realized that he was in for the hardest pull he had ever had. His dory rode deep with 800 pounds of fine cod. The furious wind buf- feted the boat, showering him with spray. —A strong tide, too, was run- ning against him. Stout fisherman though he was, he could never have reached the schooner unaided. In- deed, he almost began to fear that he might not be able to get to the bar- Tel. Every little while he looked over his shoulder to see if it was coming. Once or twice he got a glimpse of it, dancing corklike on the billows, drift- ing rapidly nearer. The Lance had been entirely swal- Jowed up in the snow-squalls. This did not trouble Dixon much, for his last glance had discovered the barrel about 300 yards away. When he looked again, however, it was hidden behind a wall of whirling flakes. With aching arms and blistered hands he bent now to his oars. His strength was almost exhausted. No man can hope to win out against a heavy gale. He was making very little progress. He. must find the barrel in a few minutes, or his posi- tion would be decidedly unpleasant. He was beginning to fear that he had swerved too far to the right or left, when to his great joy a backward look revealed the bobbing cask just on the edge of his narrow horizon about fifty feet ahead. Dixon wasted no time in waiting for the cask to drift down to him. He knew that probably all its rope dad been paid out, and that he must Pull up to It ALBERT W, "craft made him miss ‘his aim. ‘with life? SesesacesesRsesa TOLM AN, ager’ Never in his life did he row a hard- er fifty feet. His muscles cracked, and the blood spun from his nose as he forced the heavy boat through the hostile seas.” A glance behind gave him fresh strength; his goal was now only ten feet away. He threw all his power into a Yow mighty : strokes; and presently his heart was hn by an. irregular bumping under the gunwale of his dory, as the cask ranged alongside. The battle had taken every atom of his strength; he could not have. pulled five feet farther to ‘windward.’ Taking in his oars, he sprang for- ward, the gaff in his right hand, and the painter-end in his left. - He in~ tended, after gaffing the becket, to make fast to it, so that-he might not risk losing the barrel when getting it aboard. : A sudden sea hurled theory back. Dixon saw the cask shoot suddenly from him. Leaning out over the bow, he lunged at the becket with his gaff; but the unsteadiness of his The cask was rapidly receding. He threw half his body over the gunwale for another attempt, pressing his legs against the sides of the bow. This time he caught the loop fairly with the iron hook at the extreme limit of his reach. Just then another short, quick sea struck the boat a violent blow, Dixon's toes clattered vainly along the sloping planks as he attempted to regain his equilibrium. The up- per part of his body and his right arm were stretched far out over the water. He dared net release the cask which it had cost him so much hard labor to gaff; and of course he did not for’ an instant dream of dropping the painter. The dory shot from under him, and he plunged overboard. As Dixon rose to the surface and shook the water from his eyes, a big comber broke over his head, burying him once more. By the time he had come up and caught his breath, the dory had been swept to leeward to the full length of her painter. With a sailor’s instinct he had kept a tight grip on gaff and rope; but his situation was both painful and dan- gerous. His right hand grasped the wooden handie of the gaff, which was hooked about the buoy-becket; his left clutched the painter, at which tugged the heavily loaded sixteen-foot dory, borne to leeward by gale and sea. The barrel pulled one way and the boat another. Wrench! wrench! It seemed enough to tear him asunder ‘when the big rollers came. To save his dory he must draw up the painter and make it fast to the buoy. But how could he do this with a single arm, already weakened by his long, hard pull to windward? His hands were stretched so far apart that he could not gst them together, unless he let go withone or the other; and this he saw that he must do sooner or later. Sheer exhaustion would soon end his power of resist- ing the terrible strain. ‘ Which hand should he relax? It was a desperate dilemma. To drop the buoy and regain his boat, if that were possible, meant going to lee- ward in the night and freezing storm. To this there could be but one ending. To release the painter and cling to the barrel would pre- serve his life, provided he could with- stand the buffeting of the fierce waves through a half-mile pull. He must decide quickly, for the power of choosing would soon be taken from him. A wise man dces not waste his strength fruitlessly. Dixon hated to lose his dory and his twenty-dollar cod. But what were these compared His choice once made, he lost no time. He opened his left hand; the painter jerked away. Back shot the dory, tossing her bow, and disappeared in the storm. The fisherman grasped the gaff with both hands, and pulled himself up to the barrel. “It was now. his sole hope. He tried to raise himself upon it, but the buoyant cask was not large enough to support his weight, and sank under water. Fi- nally he got it under his chest in such a position that it kept his face well above. the surface. It was now almost dark. The snow drove thickly into his eyes, and he could see only a few yards over the tossing crests. How long would his mates wait before hauling in the buoy? Five hundred fathoms to windward in that shrieking gale, they of course knew nothing of his mis- hap, and would be sure to give him plenty of time to find the barrel. He hoped that they would not wait long, for in that icy sea a man’s power of endurance was limited. The minutes dragged slowly on. Would they never begin to get the buoy-line aboard? A dozen times he J thought they had started pulling: but the wind and sea drove against] him with such fury that it was impos« sible. to be sure whether or. not, he was moving toward the schooner. At last a steady succession of abrupt snatches through the water told him that they were heaving in the line. Could he live and hold on long enough to be dragged ‘three thousand feet through the freezing sea? The wave-crests broke above his head. Now and then he was entirely sub- merged by some big fellow. Cruelly bruised and strained by the crashing combers, he hugged the iron-bound cask, knowing that that steady rhyth- mical pull was every second bringing him a little nearer the vessel. Diton’s eyes were spray-blinded. His bare head was crusted with brine and sleet. Dazed by- the ceaseless battering, he let go with one hand; the fingers of the others were. loosen- ing. Just in time his senses came back. He regained his grip, and held on with a clutch of death. Once let the barrel escape his grasp, ong it could never be regained. Somew here in the blackness far to leeward his empty dory was tossing, if indeed it. had not already upset.. He thought of it ruefully; smitten with a poignant regret at the memory of the®big fish that would have won- the prize. But not for a moment was he sorry that he had cast inwhis lot with the dancing barrel. On board the Lance they were pull- ing, discouraged and heartsick. The rope came in so easily that they knew the dory could not be at its end. "The probability was that Dixon had been unable to reach the buoy, and was drifting to leeward In his boat. It was more than doubtful if they ever saw him again. Dixon felt that he could hold on but little longer. The power .of thought had pearly been beaten out of him. He seemed to have been dragged for hours through the swash of the sea. His body was numbed al- most to paralysis. A dozen times he had imagined the schooner’s light in the gloom to windward, but had found himself mistaken. He was pos- sessed by a dull conviction that he would never reach her. An unwonted smoothness of the sea surprised him. ' He raised hig head, and there, not thirty feet away, shone the lantern in the Lance’s fore- rigging. As her deck rolled down, he saw the swaying line of weary |" men heaving At the same him, and gave a shout of surprise and joy. Very carefully the last few feet were coiled in, until willing arms hauled him over the rail. Tucked in a bunk near the stova in the rope. .and filled with hot coffee, he told re- ‘gretfully of the record-breaking fish he had lost. At the end of his story two men went out. Presently they returned, carrying by the gills the biggest cod he had ever set eyes on. It was considerably over five feet long. ‘‘Stand up, Chris!’ they shouted to a wiry little Cape Verde Islander. Suspended glistening in the lamp- light, the monster came almost to the top of the Portuguese fisherman's head. As Dixon looked, the bitter= ness of loss went out of his heart. “Good boy, Chris!” said he. ‘I'm glad you got him. I don’t feel halt so bad about. losing mine, since he couldn't have won the prize.”’— Youth's Companion. : ic Stage Seas. Mr. Alfred Lester, the popular Gaiety comedian, has told a funny stage sea story, which leads me to a remembrance of others. Mr. Lester, like most comedians, started his stage career as a player of heroes, villains, “heavy fathers’’ and other familiar figures of melodrama, and one night, at a dirty little theatre in a third rate Welsh town, or village, while ex- piring cf thirst on a rait, the actor felt to his annoyance that the scene, intended to be most pathetic, wag provoking explosions ¢f unsuccess- fully suppressed laughter. The more he raved of the thirst that was con- suming him the more the people in front were consumed with laughter. Mr. Lester thought them the hardest- hearted wretches he had ever played before—until he knew what had been the cause of their merriment. It ap- peared from information received from the manager that. a scene- shifter, instead of lowering a black cloth of perilous rocks, had intro- duced into the scene of turbulent waters the peaceful picture of a coun- try inn, with fields of poppies in the distance. The spectacle of a thirsty mariner calling huskily for *‘watah” while there were ‘‘licensed premises’ almost at his elbow in the raging ocean naturally struck the audience as having its humorous aspect.—M. A. P. Preparing For the Worst. A French gentleman anxious to find a wife for a nephew went to a matrimonial agent, who handed him his list of lady clients. Running through this he came to his wife's name, entered as desirous of obtain- ing a husband between the ages of twenty-eight and thirty-five—a blond preferred. Forgetting his nephew, he hurried home to announce his dis- covery to his wife. The lady was not at all disturbed. "Oh, yes,” she said “that is my name. I put it down when you were so ill in the spring and the doctors said we must prepare for the worst.”—American Press. It Pays to Pay. : A man came in Wednesday, paid his subscription and incidentally men- tioned that he would like to see a little rain. We didn’t promise any- thing, but Wednesday night it rained. We do not mention this in a spirit of braggadocio, but just to show how things will work out.—Berthaud Bulletin. charming one. instant they caught sight, of [do Ftalian merchant, Shoplifting Temptations. Out of ten or twelve cases I have had only one professional thief, and I am convinced that in the largs ma- jority of cases where women are guilty of shoplifting it is becaene a passing temptation is too strong for them to resist. In my opinion, our large warehouses, with their tempt- ing display of all' kinds of desirable articles, are a great danger to public norality.—London Ideas. Theatre Toque. The making of a theatre such a simple thing these days that a woman can be pardoned for under- taking it, even though she is not an adept in thé millinery business. She zan grasp a few bits of lace and some roses, and with these in her hands she can fashion a very acceptable lit- tle ornament for the head. It should be very small, and it should be worn slightly tilted upon the coiffure, while it should be held in place with hand- some hat pins, which must be select- ed with a special eye to the color and materials on the hat.—NeWw Haven Register. toque is The Charming Woman. Of all the women born into an un- grateful and unappreciative world none can compare to the really We may admire the beauty and gaze in awe at the blue- stocking, hug the “dear things of our acquaintance’ and thump the *“gocd sorts” on the back, but in the pres- ence of a personality which “charms” us wg remain in speechless and al- most breathless fascination. Truly of every such woman can it be said what was said by St. Simon of one of the most fascinating women of his time, that she walks “like a goddess on the clouds.”—L’Inconnue. ‘Picture Restored Woman's Reason. Mrs. R. Liberto, wife of a well-to- of Verona, is falling a victim to melancholia for an odd reason. Six years ago, after the birth of a child, her mind became af- fected and her husband sent her to Italy for a picture she valued highly and with which her happiest girlhood days were associated. When the pic- ture was hung up in her room it seemed to have an. almost instant effect. Her mind became quieter and she recovered. On Easter Sunday evening some roistering countrymen fired revolvers in reckless fashion to celebrate the occasion and a bullet which entered the Liberto house did no further dam- age than to shatter this important picture. Since then Mrs. Libertoc has acted oddly again and her husband has begun a search for a duplicate of the picture in hope of restoring her mind.—Pittsburg Dispatch to the Philadelphia Press, Sw omen in Real Estate. A woman real estate agent in Il.os Angeles recently made the largest land "sale, so far as price was con- cerned, ever made by a woman in that part of the country. The deal was for nearly a quarter of a million dollars. The woman agent has been in the business only about {wo years, but is making a suc- zess of it. “I have many women clients,” said, “and I have no trouble with them. 1 find that, as a. rule, they come right to the point and transact business more quickly than many of the men de. “The lack of practical knowledge, the ahility to close a deal, is the fault that presents itself most glar- ingly in woman. She can demeon- strate and convince, but cannot exe- ute a deed or draw a contract for her cwn protection; but she is an apt pupil and only needs to be shown a tew times, after which she can do without a lawyer. “She always overestimates details and spends time on trifles, allowing the main issue to lose force by delay. Women usually cnter into deals with enthusiasm, but, in the words of ‘the street,’ they are ‘quitters.’ “They cannot endure weeks and months of inaction and waiting for the ‘right time,” but become discour- aged. The ‘stayers’ reach the goal.” —The Housekeeper. she Good Table Manners. Never take your seat until the lady of the house is seated. Never lounge on the table with your elbows, nor tip backward your chair. Never play with your knives, forts or glasses, but cultivate repose at the table. It is an aid to digestion. Never tuck your napkin into "our vest, yoke or collar. It is unfolded once and laid across the knees with- out a flourish. After the meal, at a restaurant or formal dinner, lay it unfolded at your place. If you are a time guest in the household and will remain another meal, you may fold the napkin in its original creases. Never put the end of a spoon into vour mouth; sip everything from the side of the spoon and do this noise- lessly. Never put your knife in your ‘mouth nor use a spoon when a fork will serve. Forks are now used for eating ice eream, and salad is folded or cut with the side of a fork, never with the knife. Even small vegeta- bles like peas are eaten with a fork. in| Never hold your knife and fork up ‘in the air when your. host is serving you afresh. Lay them on one side of the plate-when you send it to the host by servant or your neighbor at table. Never leave your spoon in coffee or tea cup. Lay it on the gaucer. Never cocel food by blowing upon it. ‘Wait until it becomes cool enough to eat. Never taken second -helping at a large and formal dinper: You will find yourself eating alene. Never make yourself conspicuous in. any way aiding the -host: or hostess in serving, unless especiaily asked-to do so, or in passing dishes when servants are provided for that purrage. Never push back your plate and finger crumbs at the end of the :-:al It indicates undue haste. Remember that— Large pieces. of bread or eracker are broken into smaller pieces before being buttered and carried to the mouth. Cake may be Wolke 'n and eaten like bread or crackers, or it may be eaten with a fork. : Celery, olives, nuts, bon bons by radishes, salted and preserved gin- ger are eaten from the fingers, but berries, melons and grape- fruit must be eaten with a spoon. Orange juice may be pressed out with a spoon, bananas are generally eaten with a fork, peaches, apples and pears are peeled, quariered and cut into small pieces and then picked up with the fingers: Grapes and small plums are eaten from the fingers and the stones or skins taken into the hand and carried to the plate, never dropping from the lips. Prune seeds are best pressed out ‘with the spoon before the fruit is eaten and then laid to one side on the plate. The tender asparagus tips must be cut off with a fork-and the remainder of the stalk goes to waste. Bones of fowl, game or chops must not be taken into the fingers, but green corn may be eaten that way. Artichokes, source of much grief to the inexperienced diner, if served hot or cold with sauce, must be broken apart leaf by leaf and the tip dipped in the sauce and eaten from the fingers. The heart is cut up and eaten with a fork. Your host who inquires what por- ticn of poultry or game, rare meat or well done, you prefer, will thank you for a definite answer. If you really have no preference say so definitely. Do not enumerate various cuts that appeal to ycu.—Prudence Standish, in Chicago News. NL Most women will be glad to note the prominence given the sashes, both for day and evening wear. Nothing is more evident than the craze for brown and pale blue: Brown and red are likewise combined. drawn cauifered lace be found Immense hats taffeta with “capy under the brim, are to among the newest schemes. Net veils have no spot nor pattern whatever, and are bound at the with a. length of quiet narrow They look extremely quaint Second Empire. composed of Y of edge silk. and very An innovation is a tartan gauze in which a white ground is patterned with a pale green and brown check. When it is made over striped founda- tions the effect is very curious. ~ The inevitable touch of dead gold continues popular at the "leading French and English houses for tailor- suit costumes in cloths and serges. Gold is even permissible on tweeds and friezes. In Vienna whence the new tailor- mades usually emanate, it has been decreed that shoulders shall be squared and sleeves made full. They are not exaggerated, and quite gener- ally becoming. A three piece suit of white Shan- tung-—everythingimported is in three piece form—was charmingly em- broidered in the blue of old pottery on the ‘waist and on the sleeveless wrap. Many of the feathers used suggest the useful feather duster in their types, and indeed not a few of them are drawn from the same humble source though dyed and made up in ways that atone for their plebeian origin. Little toques are placed back on the head to show the front hair, but as yet the French way for wearing all headgear in that way has not “ar- rived.” The style is more becoming to French piquancy than to American dignity. An Unfortunate Error. Recently a Nevada editor pub- lished an obituary concerning a man who had made a fortune as a pro- moter of mining interests. The trib- ute was headed, “Death Loves a Shin- ing Mark,” but ihe printer made it “Mining Shark.” Three hfisky sons of the deceased suftyive. — Kansas City Post. iT WORN TO A SKELETON. A Wonderful Restoration Caused a Sensation in a Pennsylvania ul Town. 24 Mrs. Charles N. Preston, of Elk- land, Pa., says: “Three years ago 1 r found that my house- work was becoming a burden. I tired eas- ily, had no ambition and was failing fast. My complexion got yellow, and 1 lost over 50 pounds. My thirst was terrible, » and there was sugar * in the kidney secre- tions. My doctor kept me on a strict diet, but as his medicine was not helping me, 1 began using Doan’s Kidney Pills. - They helped me at once, and soon all traces of sugar dis- appeared. I have regained my former weight and am-perfectly well.” Sold by all dealers. 50 cents-a box. Foster-Milburn Co., Lugar, N.Y: Sword Tells the Verdict. ? There -is an interesting point “Gon- nected with the trial .of naval offi- cers in England. After the voting as to the verdict, the ofiicer who is be- ing tried is brought into tke room, and a glance tells him his fate. His sword was placed on the table at the beginning ‘of - the proceedings, with the point toward him and the hilt toward the president of the court. If, now, the sword is - re- versed, the hilt toward the: prisoner, he knows that he is honorably. ac- quitted, but is ok weapon’s point is still toward him, the accused knows that he has to await sentence.—Chl- cago Journal. Long Hours on the Farm. Boys leave the farni because they don't ‘enjoy 14 cr 15 hours of bitter hard work every day: they don't like to get up before daylight in the morn- ing and toil like steam engines until after dark in the evening. The best way to encourage the farmer boys is to treat them as though they were human beings; let them have their sleep in the mornings: call 10 hours’ a day's work: let them have their evenings for themselves, without a thousand heartbreaking chores to em- * bitter their souls and make them old before their time.—Atchison Cham- pion. : : PLAY BALL © Spalding Official Base Ball Standard of the World, $1.25 Each. Boys’ Official Base Ball, 75¢. Each. SPALDING BASE BALL GOODS FOR BOYS. No. 1B Base Ball, 5c. No. GMB Bat, 30c. No. XB Base Ball, 50¢. No. 3X Bat, 25¢. No. 7B Base Ball, 25c. No. 2XB Bat, 1Uc. No. 9B Base Ball, 10c¢, No. AB Tih $0 0. No. 0. AA M No. 14 Glov as tote . 19 Glove, 25¢ BALL UNIFGRITG FOR BOYS, . 4 Quality, on team orders, 84.00 per Suit, . 5 Quality, on team orders, $3.00 per Sulit, SPEC IAL.—No. 6 Quality, $1.00 per Suit. Our Special No. 6 Boy's Uniform consists of button front with one felt letter, XB Glove $e 0d. shirt, in sizes up to 33 up to 30 inch walst, 1 stoc ial: ORDER NO New pase Ball Caialog Mail Orter Ye pt. A. G. SPALDING & BROS. 126 Nassau St., Ncw York. address. ( Exceptional Cogortiniiy) 7 PREFERRED STOCK cf the Regal Shee Co. (at Par, $100 Per Share.) An opportur nye stors see xurity, to hecorne inter ii successful America. widely known concern. ty is offered to conservativ n oh “ted In- one of the business enterpri ip tions from var ous retail dealers for )<. Only 40 of these, however, can be ¢ ished now bocause of present manufecturing limitations. but in order to put itself in condition to grant as many as possible of these applicatiops this stock is being offered the public, the wone Vv from the sale of which oi be used immedi- ately to enlarge the factory at Whitman, Mass. so that 1t can produce the footwear required by this assured new business. In 1906 the Regal earnings were over $215.000, the indicated cash ear: nings for 1907 are 350.000, vet the dividend requirements of this 7 per cent. Preferred Stock are only $175,000. The Preferred is in. effect. a First Mort- gage on the company’s entire assets and its aividend is the FIRST charge. paid It is significant that the men who started the business are still running it. will con- tinue to run it and are not cifering any of their common stock for sale. Write for full particulars to SWARTWOUT & APPENZELLAR,- BANKERS, 40-42-44 Pine Street, - NEW YORK. \GHoseo, Philadelphia. CGrand Rapids. Deltas. J Our handsome cataloz of Rugs. Car=- vets, Linolenms and Lice Curtains -. fliustrated it natural coors sent free on request. I. wilt show you how you cansave dle on every dollar yourpend for Rug-, Carpels. Linoieums, Cur- tains, etc. Buy direct from the manu a-turer. save all intermediate profits. Write a postal to-day ard receive our catalog ab-olutely FREE. 3 ERD ING MILLS MFG. CO,, Dept. A. $5 Fif.h Ave., New York. DoYou Bt R ss : ¥, Z sy Bar® Made for all kinds of wet work or sport, 3 : Fe noe Q CANAD fener
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers