BY CLARA AUGUSTA
INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION.
CHAPTER XXIII.
AR into the night
Margie sat reading
the ciocely written
sheets, penned by
the hrnd now
pulseless In death.
All was made clear;
Archer Trevlyn was
fully exculpated.
He was innocent of
the crime which she
had been influenced
to believe he had committed. She fell
on her knees and thanked God for that.
Though lost to her It was a consolation
ineffable to know that he had not taken
the lire of a fellow-mortal.
Her resolution was taken before
morning. She had deeply wronged
Archer Trevlyn, and she must go to
him with a full confession, confess her
fault, and plead for his forgiveness.
Castrani, who came in the morning,
approved her decision, and Nurse Day,
who was told the whole story, and lis
tened with moist eyes, agreed with
them both. So it happened that on the
ensuing morning Margie bade farewell
to the quiet home which had sheltered
her through her bitterest sorrow, and
accompanied by Castrani set forth for
New York.
Sho went to her own home first. Her
aunt was in the country, but the ser
vants gave her a warm welcome, and
after resting for an hour, she took her
way to the residence of Archer Trevlyn,
but a' few squares distant.
A strange silence seemed to hang
over the palatial mansion. The blinds
were'closed—there was no sign of life
about the premises. A thrill of unex
plained, dread ran through her frame
as sh& Pouched the silver-handled bell.
The servant who answered her sum
mons seemed to partake of the Btrange,
solemn quiet pervading everything.
"Is Mr. Trevlyn in?" she asked, trem
bling In spite of herself.
“I believe .Mr. Trevlyn has left the
country, madam."
“Left the country? When did he go?”
“Sopie days ago."
"M#. Trevlyn—take me to her! She
was an old friend of mine.”
Thai man looked at her curiously, hes
itated a moment, and motioning her to
enters .Indicated the closed door of the
parlo^
**Yotr can go In, I presume, as you
are a friend of the family.”
A feeling of solemnity, which was
almost awe, stole over Margie as she
turned the handle of the door and
’’stepped inside the parlor. It was
shrouded in the gloom of almost utter
darkness
Margie stopped by the door until her
eyes became accustomed to the gloom,
and then she saw that the center of the
room was occupied by a table, on which
lay some rigid object—strangely long
and still and angular—covered with a
drapery of black velvet, looped up by
dying water lilies.
Still controlled by that feeling of
strange awe, Margie stole along to the
table1 and lifted the massive cover. She
saw beneath It the pale, dead face of
Alexandrine Trevlyn. She dropped
the pall, uttered a cry of horror, and
sank upon a chair. The door unclosed
noiselessly, and Mrs. Leo, the mother
of the dead woman, came in.
“Oh, Margie! Margie!” she cried,
“pity me! My heart Is broken! My
darling! My only child Is taken from
me!”
}t was long before she grew com
posed enough to give any explanation
Of the tragedy—tor tragedy Margie felt
sure It was. I
The story can be told in a tew briiA1
words. Alexandrine and her husband
had had some difficulty. Mrs. LOe
could not tell in relation to what, but
she knew that Alexandrine blamed
herself for the part she had taken.
Mr. Trevlyn left her In anger to go to
Philadelphia on business. He Was ex
pected to be absent about four days.
Meanwhile his wife suffered agonies of
remorse, and counted the hours <10111
his return should give her the privilege
of throwing herself at his feet and beg
ging his forgiveness.
But he did'not return. A wrsk, ten
days passed, and still no tidings. Alex
andrine was almost frantic. On the
eleventh day came a tetograyhlc dis
patch, brief and cruel, as these heart
less things invariably are, Informing
her that Mr. Trevlyn had dosed his
business In Philadelphia aid was on
the eve of leaving the country for an
indefinite period. His drs'ination was
not mentioned, and his nh.happy wife,
feeling that if he tall Philadelphia
without her seeing hlra, all trace of
bib would be lost, hurled to the de
pot and set out for that Mty.
There had been an accident about
h«f way between New T ark and Phila
delphia and Alexandrine had been
brjaught back to her splendid home—a
corpse?.That waa all . .!
CHAPTER XXTV.
KE summer days
fled on 'and
brought the au
tumn mellowness
and splendor. Mar
gie, outwardly calm
and quiet, lived
at Harrison Park
with her staid
maiden aunt s
A year passed
( away thus mono
teaoidy, then another, and no tidings
ever came of Archer Trevlyn. Margie
thought of him now as we think of one
being dead, with tender regret, and
love almost reverent. He was dead to
her, she said, but it was no sin to cher
ish his memory.
In the third year Margie's aunt mar
ried. It was quite a little romance. An
old lover, discarded years before in a
fit of girlish obstinacy, came back, after
weary wanderings in search of hap
piness, and seeking out the love of
other days, wooed and won her over
again.
There was a quiet wedding, and then
the happy pair decided on a trip to
Europe. And, of course, Margie must
accompany them. At first she de
murred; she took so little pleasure In
anything, she feared her presence
might mar their happiness, and she
dreaded to leave the place where she
had passed so many delightful hours
with him. But her aunt and Doctor
Elbert refused to give her up, and so,
one beautiful September morning, they
sailed for Liverpool in the good ship
Colossus.
For many days the voyage was pros
perous, but In mid-ocean they fell upon
stormy weather and the ship was tossed
about at the mercy of the winds and
waters. It was a terrible storm, and
great apprehensions were entertained
that the vessel might founder, but she
would doubtless have weathered the
blast In safety If she had not sprung a
leak.
The fearful intelligence was an
nounced Just at the closing In of a dark
dismal night, and every heart sank
and every face was shrouded in gloom.
Only for a moment! The men sprang to
the pumps and worked with a will—
as men will work Tor their lives—but
their efforts were vain. The water in
creased in the hold, and it soon became
evident that the Colossus would hardly
keep afloat until morning.
But just when they were most help
less, most despairing, the lights of a
strange ship were seln. They succeed
ed in making their desperate condition
known, and by day-dawn all were safe
on board the steamer, for the stranger
proved to be a steamer on her way to
New York. ' 4
The decks were crowded; Doctor El
bert was looking after his wife, and
Margie, clinging to a rope, stood fright
ened and alone. Some one came to her,
said a few words which the tempest
made inaudible, and carried her below.
The light of the cabin lamps fell full on
his face. She uttered a cry, for in that
moment she recognized Archer Trev
lyn.
“Margie Harris**!'’ he cried, his fin
gers closing tightly over hers. “Mar
gie! Mine! Mine at last! The ocean
has given you up to mo!”
“Oh, Archer, where have you been?
It has. been so weary! And I have want
ed to see you no much—that I might tell
you how I had wronged you—that I
might ask you to forgive me. Will you
pardon me for believing that you could
ever be guilty of that man's death?
If you knew all—if you knew how art
fully It was represented to me—what
overwhelming proofs were- presented,
you would not wonder—
"I do know all, Margie; Alexandrine
told me. My poor wife! God rest her.
She believed me guilty and yet her
fatal love for me overlooked the crime.
She deceived me in many things, but
she is dead, and I will not he unforgiv
ing. She poisoned my mind with sus
picions of you and Louis Castranl, and
I was fool enough to credit her insinua
tions. Margie, I want you to pardon
mo.”
“I do. freely, Castranl is a noble soul.
I love him as I would a brother.”
"Continue to do so, Margie. He de
serves it, I think. The night I left home
Alexandrine revealed to me the cause
of your sudden rejection of me. Wo
quarreled terribly. I remember it with
bitter remorse. We parted In anger,
Margie, and she died without my for-1
giveness and blessing. It was very
hard, but perhaps at the last she did not
suffer. I will believe so.’’
“If she sinned it was through love of
you, Archer, and that should make you
very forgiving toward her.”
“I have forgiven her long ago. I
know the proofs were strong against
me. i am not sure out that they were
sufficient to have convicted me of mur
der In a court of law. You were con
scious of my presence that night In the
graveyard. Margie?”
| “Yes. I thought It was you. 1 knew
no other man’s presence had the power
| to thrill and impress me as yours did.’’
I “I meant to Impress you, Margie. I
brought all the strength of my will to
bear on that object. I said to myself,
she shall know that I am near her, and
yet my visible presence snail not be
revealed to her. I had found out which
was your window from one of the ser
vants, and I watched Its light which
bnrned through the dusky twilight like
tho evening star. I wonder If you had a
thought for me that night, Margie—
your wedding night?"
“I did think of you—" she blushed,
and hid her face on his shoulder—“1
did think of you. I longed Inexpressi
bly to fly to your side and be forever
at rest.”
“My darling!” he kissed her fondly,
and went on: “I saw you leave your
room by the window and come down
the garden path. I had felt that you
would come. I was not surprised that
you dM. I had expected It. I followed
you silently, saw you kneel by the grave
of your parents, heard you cafl out upon
your father for pity. O, how I loved
and pitied you, Margie—but my tongue
was tied—I had no right to speak—but
I did kiss your hand. Did you know it,
Margie?”
“Yes."
“You recognized me then? I meant
you should. After that I hurried away.
I was afraid to trust myself near you
longer, lest I might be tempted to what
I might repent. I fled away from the
place and knew nothing of the fearful
deed done there until the papers an
nounced It next day.”
"And I suspected you of the crime!
O, Archer! Archer! how could I ever
have been so blind? How can you ever
forgive me?"
“I want forgiveness, Margie.' I
doubted you. I thought you were false
to me, and had fled with Castrani. That
unfortunate glove confirmed you, I
suppose. I dropped it in my haste to
escape without your observation, and
afterward I expected to hear of it in
connection with the finding of Lin
mere’s body. I never knew what be- j
came of it until my wife displayed it, !
that day when she taunted me with my
crime. Poor Alexandrine! She had the
misfortune to love me, r.nd after your
renunciation, and your departure from
New York—in those days when I
deemed you false and fair—I offered
her my hand. I thought perhaps she
might be happier as my wife, and I felt
that I owed her something for her de
voted love. I tried to qo my duty by
her, but a man never can do that by
his wife, unless he loves her.”
iou acted ior wnat you thought
was best. Archer."
“I did. Heaven knows I did. She
died in coming to me to ask my forgive
ness for the taunting words she had
spoken at our last parting. I was cruel.
I went away from her in pride and
anger, and left behind me no means by
which she could communicate with me.
I deserved to suffer, and I have.”
‘‘And I also, Archer.”
‘‘My poor Margie! Do you know, dear,
that it was the knowledge that you
wanted me which was sending me home
again? A month ago I saw Louis Cas
trani in Paris. He told me everything.
He was delicate enough about it, dari
ng; you need not blush for fear he
might have told me you were grieving
for me; but he made me understand that
my future might not be so dark as I
had begun to regard it. He read to me
the dying confession of Arabel Vere,
and made clear many things regarding
which I had previously been in the
dark. Is all peace between us, Margie?”
“All is peace, Archer. And God is
very good.”
‘‘He is. I thank Him for it. And now
I want to ask one thing more. I am
not quite satisfied.”
“Well?”
“Perhaps you will think it ill-timed
now that we are surrounded by strang
ers, and our very lives perhaps in peril
—but I cannot wait. I have spent pre
cious moments enough in waiting. It
has been very long, Margie, since I
heard you say you loved me, and I want
to hear the words again.”
She looked up at him shyly.
“Archer, how do I know but you hare
changed?”
“You know I have not. I have loved
but one woman—I shall love no other
through time and eternity. And now,
at last, after all the distress and the
sorrow we have passed through, will
you give me your promise to meet what
ever else fortune and fate may have in
store for us, by my side?”
She put her face up to his, and he
kissed her lips.
“Yours always, Archer. I have never
had one thought for any other.”
So a second time were Archer Trev
lyn and Margie Harrison betrothed.
On the ensuing day the storm abated,
and the steamer made a swift passage
to New York.
Doctor and Mrs. Elbert were a little
disappointed at the sudden termina
tion of their bridal tour, but consoled
themselves with the thought that they
could try it over again in the spring.
Trevlyn remained in the city to ad
just some business affairs which had
suffered from his long absence, and
Margie and her friends went up to her
old home. He was to follow them
thither on the ensuing day.
And so it happened that once more
Margie sat in her old familiar chamber
dressing for the coming of Archer
Trevlyn. What should she put on?
She remembered the rose-colored dress
she had laid away that dreadful night
so long ago. But now the rose colored
dreams had come back, why not wear
the rose-colored dress?
To the unbounded horror of Florlne,
she arrayed herself in tho old-fashioned
dress, and waited for her lover. And
she had not long to wait. She heard
his well-remembered step in the hall,
and a moment after she was folded in
his arms.
CHAPTER XXV.
T CHRIS T M A S
there was a bridal
at Harrison Park.
The day was clear
and cloudless—the
air almost as
balmy as the air of
spring. Such a
Christmas had not
been known for
years.
as
The sun shone
brightly, and soft winds sighed through
the leafless trees. And Margie was
married and not a cloud came between
her and the sun.
Peace and content dwelt with Archer
Trevlyn and his wife In their beautiful i
home. Having suffered, they knew bet
ter how to be grateful for, and to ap
pseclate tbe blessings at last bestowed
upon them.
At their happy fireside there comes to
sit sometimes, of an evening, a quiet,
| grave-faced man. A man who Areaer .
' Trevlyn and his wife love as a dear i
brother, and prize above all other i
earthly friends. And beside Louis Cas- j
tranl, Leo sits, serene and contem
plative, enjoying a green old age in {
peace and plenty. Castrani will never
marry, but sometime in the hereafter,
I think he will have his recompense.
(THE END.)
THE BIGGEST POLICEMAN.
He Is Said to Be Philadelphia*! Capt
Malln.
Philadelphia has cause for civic pride
in the possession -of the biggest and
strongest guardian of the public peace
in the country over—Police Captain Ed
ward W. Malin of the Second division,
says the Philadelphia Press. There may
be heavier wearers of the blue uniform,
but mere avoirdupois is not a thing to
be proud of.
Capt. Malln measures in height 6 feet
6% inches. His weight is 200 pounds,
which makes him splendidly propor
tioned. Beside him the 6-foot 200
pounder looks small enough to be cox
swain of a university crew.
The labor of growing heavenward so
tremendously has not taxed his brain
and vitality, for Capt. Malin is strong
and hardy, and when he shakes your
hand warmly you think of the great
steam hammer in the Krupp gun works
at Essen. As for a hearty slap on the
back, a timid man would prefer a tap
from a trolley car.
Capt. Malin will have been connected
with the police force of Philadelphia
nineteen years on the 26 th of next Oc
tober and has passed through the sev
eral grades of duty from that of a
"sub” patrolman to the responsible po
sition of one of the five captaincies of
the Philadelphia police department—
from "sub” to regular patrolman, to
sergeant, to lieutenant, and to captain.
His record has been an honorable one,
and it goes without saying that Capt.
Malin has l^d a comparatively peace
ful career, although he has always been
courageous and faithful to duty. But
the most reckless lawbreaker or a syn
dicate of him would well hesitate to
mix up in a personal encounter with a
giant who would be more than likely
to tuck the company under his arms
and save the patrol wagon the trouble
of carrying the victims of misguided
confidence to the station.
He has been injured more than once
in the performance of his duty, but, as
the small boy said after the fight, “You
ought to have seen the other chap.”
It is told of the big captain that when
acting as lieutenant in the old police
headquarters at Fifth and Chestnut
streets, he was one day sitting by the
door that led into the cellroom. Capt.
Malin was alone and was trying to
read a newspaper. In one of the cells
a man with a many horse-powered
voice was shouting alound his yearning
to get out and whip “anything with
brass buttons on It.”
“You got me in here when I was
drunk and helpless. Now I’m sober
and T can eat up any two coppers in
the precinct. Only give me a show at
them.”
Lieut. Malln was patient until he
deemed patience was a drug in the
market. The bellicose prisoner was
spoiling for blood. Nothing else would
quiet him. The lieutenant sent for the
jailer and told him to open the cell
door, and as the hinge grated the fight
er flew into the roll-call room with an
incandescent glow in his eyes. The
lieutenant slowly rose from his chair
until he was looking down at the pris
oner far below. He said gently:
“Were you looking for something?”
“I—I—I—thought I-”
"Hadn’t you better go back and keep
quiet?”
“Yes, sir; yes, sir. Don’t hit me,
please,” and the war was averted by
arbitration.
Capt. Malin was born and "raised”
on a farm near Gradyville, in Delaware
county. He worked out of doors
through his boyhood and didn’t know
what a cigarette was. Lots of work,
sleep, fresh air, and healthful food
made a man of him and gave him a
famous start in life.
A DANGEROUS BIRD.
Wb»t Will Happen Some Day to an In*
eentlone Hunter of nine Heron*.
'“Some of these days,” said the ’long
shore hunter, “I expect to open my
daily paper and see a headline some
thing like this: ‘Killed hy a blue heron,’
and I’ll tell you why. The blue heron
is a big, powerful bird which has al
ready disfigured the faces of several
men. The men have wounded a bird
and then thinking to capture it alive
they went up to it. Why I’d as soon
try to kiss.a wounded grizzly. The
birds grow as tall as six feet and have
necks like a fish rod and just the kind
of muscles to move It the quickest with
the most strength. They could drive
their hill points through a quarter-inch
panel.
“The hunter goes up to the bird and
sees it lying there looking as innocent
as a robin, with only a broken wing.
‘What a fine pet it would make,’ the
fool hunter thinks. Then he picks the
bird up and starts for home in a wagon
or a boat, with the bird between his
knees. The bird's neck is drawn back
like a letter‘S.’ All of a sudden the bill
shoots up and gives the man a gash
alongside the eye three inches long.
That is what always has happened.
The wounded bird has missed its aim,
but sometimes, and you want to re
member it, this feathered spearman
will drive its bill far into its enemy’s
eye, and like a steel umbrella stick the
point of the bill will penetrate the man’s
brain. I guess the bird's aim has al
ways been spoiled by the pain of its
wounds, and so many a human life
has been saved. 1 don't monkey with
wounded bitterns, or cranes—well,
scarcely.”
STUBBORN FIGHTERS OF NILE.
Troubla Ahead for the Expedition C)
the Hirer.
There Is trouble ahead for the ex
pedition up the Nile If the dervishes
have become good riflemen, as a cable
dispatch from London reports on the
authority of a correspondent, of the
Army and Navy Gazette. According to
this correspondent the dervishes can
now deliver a deadly rifle Are which
will enable them to combine European
tactics with formidable onsets of cav
alry and spearsmen in the old style,
says the Boston Herald. He adds that
the British tactics of forming squares
and awaiting the shock of battle will
not longer answer against the Mah
dists and, if persisted in, will result in
ioui ana ruin.
In the stubborn lighting between the
British and Mahdlsts during the ex
peditions of 1884 and 1885 the square
was a favorite formation with the
British, who met in tjiis way the fiery
charges of the dervishes at Tamai and
Abou Klea. Such tactics were sound
enough under the military conditions
then existing, as the tribes had few
rifles and little skill with this weapon.
Thus solid formations, which would
have crumbled to pieces under fire, of
fered the best means of meeting the
desperate rushes of the Soudanese
spearsmen. How formidable these
charges were was shown at the battle
of Tamai, where the Hadendowas
crushed in the face of a British square,
captured several gatllng guns and
forced the “Black Watch,” one of the
toughest fighting regiments in the Brit
ish service, to give ground.
We said at the time that if the Arabs
ever attained skill as marksmen, so
that their rifle fire would match the ex
cellence of their spear work, the Brit
ish would have to give up the idea of
fighting in squares and face the
charges of the tribesmen in open or
der. If, as the correspondent of the
Army and Navy Gazette asserts, the
dervishes are now able to combine fire
arms effectively with the cold steel,
the Anglo-Egyptian troops have a far
more formidable task before them in
their present invasion of the Soudan
than Sir Gerald Graham and Sir Her
bert Stewart had to deal with in the
expeditions of 1884 and 1885.
ATMOSPHERE OF MARS.
The Far-Away Planet Blessed with Per
ennially Fine Weather.
Let us now remark that the Martian
meteorology is less complicated and
more pleasant than that of the earth,
jays the North American Review.
There the weather is almost always
fine, especially during summer. Very
seldom are there clouds, even in winter.
Generally when we are unable to dis
tinguish through the telescope the de
tails of the geographical configuration
upon the planet, the fault is in our own
atmosphere and not in that of Mars,
ft is very rarely the case that, when
mr atmospheric conditions are good,
we are unable to see these details. Dur
ing the last period of observance of
Mars in 1894, I, to speak for myself,
ancountered only fifteen days (from
Oct. 10 to 25) when the surface of the
planet was veiled by its own at
mosphere. Clouds are excessively rare
an the surface of Mars, and perhaps ex
ist at all only as fogs or light cirrus;
they are not clouds of rain or storm.
These veils are very infrequent there,
while they are perpetual upon the
earth. Probably there is not a single
day in the year when the entire sur
face of the earth is uncovered so that
it could be satisfactorily observed from
space. The planets have two meteoro
logical systems that are absolutely an
tithetical. Furthermore, in the rare
fied atmosphere of Mars there can be
10 powerful winds, like the trade winds
ind the predominant atmospherical!
currents which rule terrestrial cli
mates. Occasionally, however, ob
servers have noted long streaks of
snow which appear to have beeen pro
duced by currents in a tranquil at
mosphere. Shiaptrelll, for instance,
ibserved such streaks (“trainees") in
November and December, 1881, around
the northern pole and extending a con
siderable distance from it. But such
things are exceptions. The normal
sonditiori of Mars is fine weather.
Torpedo for Grave flhoali.
•The coffin torpedo is the latest device
:o foil the grave robber.
Of late years the practice of despoil
ing graves has become so widespread
'hat every effort has been put forth to
ilnd some means to end it. It is be
lieved the present invention will
achieve that purpose.
This new contrivance is a regulation
bomb, as deadly as any ever invented
by anarchistic genius. It is placed in
:he casket just previous to interment,
and after it is placed in position the
lid of the casket screwed down, it will
be an exceedingly dangerous undertak
ing to attempt to force the casket
jpen. The lid of the closed coffiu
presses down a spring. Raising this lid,
3ven in slight degree, releases the
spring, causing it to strike a percussion
;ap. The resulting explosion of the cap
also explodes the bomb, and, while the
:oncussion would wrench the casket,
t is almost impossible for the person
who is trying to open the gasket to es
cape instant death.—New York Journal.
Matrimonial Difficulty In Maine.
It was not "a very pretty home wed
ling”—the one that didn’t come off at.
Did Orchard the other night. It would
have bben a wedding, though, if the
clergyman hadn’t asked the man if he
irank, and on being answered in the
affirmative, refused to perform the cere
mony. While the couple were pleading
with the good man to reverse that
righteous decision, an officer ef the law
appeared and stopped all further pro
ceedings, for the time at least, the
would-be bride being a pauper.—Lewis,
ton Journal.
I Trying to Sntt Him.
I “Josinr,” said the younp man’s fath
er, ‘-do ye remember what he said the
j other day ’bout not beinp able to do
I whut I ashed yer to rouDd the farm
sence ye pot educated, 'cause ye want
: ed su’thin’ deep ter accypy yer ’ten
j tion?”
) “Yes, father.”
j “Wal, I've pot the very thing fur ye.
i Qje man Tunkins is dingin’ a subcel
lar. ”—Washington Star.
That Terrible Scourge*
Malarial disease is Invariably supple
mented by disturbance of the liver, the
bowels, the stomach and the nerves To the
removal of botu the cause and its effects,
tiostetter s Stomach Bitters Is fully ade
quate. It ‘‘fills the bill”as no other remedy
does, performing its work thoroughly. Its
ingredients are pure and wholesome, and it
admirably serves to build up a system
broken by ill health and shorn of strength.
< onstipation. liver and kidney complaint
ana nervousness are conquored by it.
Lack of Realigns.
Mr. Wickwire—“What ridiculous, im
possible thing's these fashion plates
are. ”
Mrs. Wickwire—"I know they used
to be, but most of them are engraved
from photographs nowadays.”
Mr. Wickwire—“This one can’t be.
Here are two women going in opposite
directions, both with brand new
gowns on, and neither looking back at
the other. ’’—Indianapolis Journal.
Hall's Catarrh Cure
Is taken internally. Price, 75c.
Somehow, we always distrait the bill of
rare at a boarding house that calls its
boarders “guests.”
Trans-Mississippi Inventions.
Omaha, Nebraska, July 31, 189a—~
Amongst the inventors who received
patents last week were William S. Wit
ten, South Omaha, Nebraska, feed
holding bin; Gaylord C. Wooster, Rulo,
Nebraska, scale beam; Jehiel F.
Wynkoop, Muscatine Iowa, rubber cap
for axle nuts; George P. Kistner, Low
Moor, Iowa, disk cultivator; Edward
A. Hinrichs, Davenport, Iowa, doll.
Amongst the curious inventions were
found an interchangeable toy and box;
a combination bloomer and bicycle
shirt; a non puncturing pneumatic tire
provided with a steel shield; a bicycle
adapted to be used on ice; a duplex bi
cycle tire comprising superposed flex
ible tires; a device for raising and low
ering bicycle tops; and an attachment
for bicycles comprising a folding rod
that can be expanded and is provided
with a mirror adapted to be used on
ladies’ bicycles so that they can ar
range their bangs while in transit.
Free information relative to patents
may be obtained in addressing Sues &
(.a. United States Patent SolicHors,
Dee Building, Omaha, Nebr.
Be a fool while you are young; it is bet
ter to cause grief to parents than to
children.
If the Baby is Cutting Teetn.
3e sure and use that old and well-tried remedy, W—
Winslow's Soothing Strut for Children Teething.
You can't make an old man believe that
he can live on love.
History is what character has written.
Sarsaparilla
The One True Blood Purifier. All druggists. $L
Hood’s Pills are the beat after-dinner pills.
EDUCATIONAL.
THE UNIVERSITY OF NOTRE DAME.
Metre Dene, Indiana.
Fell Coirwi In Classics, Letters, Science, Law, Civil* Be*
ehaaleil ami llcrtrlral Keglneerlnf. Thorough Preparatory
and Commercial Courses. Rooms Free to all students who
hare complete ! the studied required foradmlnion Into
the Junior or Senior Year, of any of the Collegiate
Courses. A limited number of Candidates tor the
I Ecclesiastical state will be received at special rates,
r 8t* Award's Hail, or boys order 13 years, is unique in
comp.etcness t f ts equipments. The 105th Term will
open September fttb, ttstHL Catalogues sent Free on appli
cation to VrKY RKV. A. XOKU1SSKY, C. 8. 1., President,
XOTUK DARK, INI).
ACADEMY OF THE SACRED HEART
8 JOHKPH. DO.
The course of instruction in this academy, conducted
by the Religious of the Sacred Heart, embraces the
whole range of subjects necessary to constitute a solid
and refined education. Propriety of deportment, per
sonal neatness and the principles of morality are ob
jects of unceasing attention. Extensive grounds af
ford the pupils every facility for useful budi'y exer
else; their health is an object of constant solicitude,
and in sickness they are attended with maternal care.
Fall term opens Tuesday, Sept. 1. Terms for session
of 5 .months, payable in advance, 1115, this include#
tuition, board, washing, courses in French. German
or Latin, use of library and physician's f«e. For fur
ther particulars address. THE hUPEItluR.
Academy Sacred Heart. St. Joieph, Mo.
MISSOURI.
The best fruit section in the West. N’p
drouths A failure of crops never known.
Mild climate. Productive soil. Abundance of
good pure water.
For Maps and Circulars giving full descrip
tion of the Rich Mineral. Fruit and Agiieuliu
ral Lands in South West Missouri, write to
JOHN M. PURDY. Manaser of the Missouri
Land and Live Stock Company, Neosho, New
ton Co., Missouri.
STEADY
WORK
WE PAY CASH WEEKLY and
want men everywhere to SELI*
CTADV TDCCC millions to t
wlAlllV InLLOed. proven
•‘absolutely best.’’Superb outfits,
new system. STARK RROTHERS,
Louisiana, Mo., Rockport, III.
PATENTS, TRADE MARKS
Examination and.Advice as t > Patentability of In
vention. Send for “Inventors’ Guide, < r How’to Get a
Patent.’* O’FARRELL & SON, Washington, D. C.
Write for catalogue.
Save freight charges.
SCHOOL SUPPi IPS,
Omaha School Supply Co.
PATPNT^ 20years- experience. Send sketch forad
I HI Lit I v> vh*. (L. )*eane,lnt*» prm. examiner U.S.
PaLothcc) Deuuedt Weaver, McQill Rldg.,Wash.l>.C.
RDIIIH 114 WHISKY nrH. Book seat
uriun ITttEB. Dr. B. ■. WOOLLKY, ATLANTA, 04*
'IS?'S £»»} Thompson’s Eyo Wator.
UNDSEY*OMAHA‘RUBBERS!
W. N, U„ OMAHA—32—1860
When writing to advertisers, kindly
mention this paper.
, „ wilts tLSu
I Best Cough Syrup. Tastes
In time. Sold br druggigta.
ggas
■PJT.JON ^
