Not the Same.
•Tie not the same, the garb she wear®.
As when the summer skies were bright.
Ko more the flimsy fabric dares
Tho sun to speed his shafts of light.
•The style Is Jaunty, yet severe.
And somehow when she speaks a name
It sounds peculiarly severe—
In sooth, she's not at all the same.
iAnd her complexion, once . o tanned,
Is faintly blushing as the rose;
*The tapering of her b-nder hand
A different ring doth now disclose,
©ho starts her letters with “Dear Jack”
'Twas “Ned" who formerly could claim
Che missives that she wrote. Alack!
There’s nothing that is quite the same!
—Washington Star.
2 THE BEST COUGHjCURE 4
y A well-known Rochester lady 1
4 says: "I stayed in the Adirondacks, 4
• away from friends and home, two •
y winters before I found that by 1
L taking 4
1 Kemp’s Balsam l
5 I could subdue the cough that ?
y drove me away from home and J
w seemed likely to never allow me «
2 to live there in winter.”
y Kemp’s Balsam will cure any /
% cough that can be cured by any L
2 medicine. f
/ Sold by all dealers at 35c. and 50c. /
•CSl*r\)tC\)MCSMCMt(S>«
There Is no satisfaction
keener than being dry / / /
and comfortable •' ' **
when out in the /,
hardest storm.
YOU ARE SURE
OF THIS IF YOU
WEAR
'h
WATERPROOF.//,
OILED /
CLOTHING
BLACK OR YELLOW 7'
On sale everywhere *
town co nosrrtu u 1 Al
The Canadian
West is the
Best West
The testimony of tens of thousands during tho
tast year is that the Canadian West is the best
Vest. Year by year the agricultural returns
lave,increased in volume and in value, and still
the Canadian < iovernment otters 160 acres free to
•very bona ride settler.
Some of the Advantages
The phenomenal increase in railway mileage—
main lines and branches—has put almost every
portion of the country within easy reach of
(lurches, schools, markets, cheap fuel and every
•modern convenience.
The NINETY MILLION BUSHEL WHEAT
.(fROP of this year means 560,000,000 to tho
fcrmers of Western Canada, apart from tho
-tesults of other grains and cattle.
For advice and information address the
--Superintendent of Immigration, Ottawa, Canada,
**r the authorized Canadian Government .\geut,
W. D. Scott, Superintendent of Immigration,
Ottawa. Canada, or E. T. Holmes, 315 Jackson
.St.,St. Paul, Minn.: J. M. MacLacnlan, Box 116
"Watertown, South Dakota, and W. V. Bennett,
lot New York Life Building, Omaha, Neb.,
Aathorized Government Agents
JPJmm say where you u« this advertisement.
■* *£,*lve CATARRH
fly's Cream Balm gippum?H
l> quickly ab<ort)«d. BSSB|■S^te&W'S.1: » 1
<5iwt Rdi«t at One.. <R ft
It cleanses, soothes
beats and protects Vug y 4^>® a
the disojiaed mem- K«L, S
bro.no. It cures Ca. BaK||
ta-rh and drives
away a Cold in the Iskiy \ J-'rcv) ',WS<^V
Bead quickly, lie- UflW peifFQ
•tores the Senses of l*n • # tot lLw8 8
Baste and Smell. Full size 60cts., at DruR
(is‘s or by mail; Trial Size 10 cts. by mail.
Kir Brothera.56 Warruu Street. Now Yorl.
W. L. DOUGLAS
•3.50&’3.00 Shoes
BEST IN THE WOR‘.Q
•HOES FOR EVERYBODY AT ALL PRICEr,
Ufa's Shoes, $5 to $1.50. Boys’ Oh003, $3
to $1.25. Women's Shoes. $4.00 to $1.50.
Hiss-s’ Sc Children's Shoos. $2.25 to $1.00.
Try W. L.. Dougins Uoineu'n, Misses and
iliUdren'd shoes; for style, fit and near
they excel other makes.
If 1 could take you into my large
factories at Brockton, Mass..and show
you how carefully W.L. Douglas shoe;
are made, you would then understand
why they hold their shape, fit better,
wear longer, and are cf greater value
than any other make.
Wherever you live, you can obtain W. L
Douglas shoes, his name and price Is stamfc:
«n the bottom, which protects you against higi
prices and Interior shoes. Take no substi.
lute. Ask your dealer tor W. L. Douglas shoo
«nd Insist upon having them.
fast Color Eyelets used; they will not wear brassy
Write for Illustrated Catalog of Fall Styles.
W. L. DODO LAS, Dept. 14, Brockton. Mass
And now T see all the smooth frauds,
I all the weak people who never have
i purposes or passions worthy of the*
• name, all the finicky finger-dusting
I gn try with the "fin * souls,” who Hat
ter themselves that their timidity Is the
I squcnniirhnera of superior sensibilities
—I see all these feeble folk fluttering
I their feeble fingers in horror of me.
I ‘‘The brute!” they cry; "the bounder!”
! Well, I accept the names quite cheer
fully. Those are the epithets the wishy
washy always hurl at tin.* strong; they
put me In the small and truly arlstro
I cratic class of men who do. I proud
j 1 y avow myself no subscriber to the
, code that was made by the shearers
i to encourage the she -p to keep on being
I nice docile animals, trotting meekly up
! to be shorn or slaughtered as their inas
| ters may decide. I harm no man, and
no woman; but neither do I pause to
I weoy fiver any man or any woman who
! Hings himself or herself upon my steady
spear. I try to be courteous and con
I sid< rate to all; but I do not stop when
some fellow who has something that be
longs to im* shouts "Rude!” at me to
sheer me off.
At the same time her delicate beauty,
her quiet, distinctive, high-bred man
ner, had thrust it home to me that in
certain respects I was Ignorant and
crude—as who would not have been,
brought up as was I? I knew there
was, somewhere between my roughness
of the uncut individuality and the
smoothness of th? planed and sand
papered nonentity of her "set,” a mean
better than either, better because more
efficient.
When this was clear to me I sent for
my trainer. He was one of those spare,
wiry Englishmen, with skin like tanned
and painted hide—brown except where
the bones seem about to push their
sharp angles through, and there a
frosty, winter apple red. He dressed
like a Deadwooil gambler, he talked like
a stable boy; but for all that, you
couldn’t fall to see he was a gentleman
born and bred. Yes, he was a gentle
man, though lie mixed profanity Into
his ordinary How of conversation more
liberally than did I when In a rage.
I stood up before him, threw my coat
hack, thrust my thumbs into my trous
ers pockets and slowly turned about
like a ready-made tailor's dummy.
"Monson,” said I, "what do you think
of me?”
He looked me over as lr l were a
horse he was about to buy. "Sound, I'd
say." was his verdict. "Good wind
uncommon good wind. A goer, and a
Btayer. Not a lump. Not a hair out
of plnce." lie laughed. "Action a hit
high perhaps—for the track. But a
grand reach.”
"I know all that." sakl I. “You miss
my point. Suppose you wanted to en
ter me for—say, the Society sweep
stakes—what then?”
"Urn—um," he muttered reflectively.
"That’s different."
"Don't I look—sort of—new—as If the
varnish was still sticky and might come
off on the ladles’ dresses and on the
{lne furniture.
“Oh—that!” said he dubiously. "But
nil those kinds of things are matters of
taste.”
"Out with itl" I commanded. “Don’t
be afraid. I’m not one of those damn
fools that ask for criticism when they
want only flattery, as you ought to
know by this time. I’m aware of my
good points, know how good they are
better than anybody else In the world.
And I suspect my weak points—always
did. I’ve got on chiefly because I made
people tell me to my face what they'd
rather have grinned over behind my
back.”
"What’s your game?” asked Monson.
•‘I'm In the dark.”
“I’ll tell you, Monson. I hired you to
train horses. Now 1 want to hire you
to train me. too. As it's double work,
It’s double pay.”
“Kay on,” said he, “and say it slow.”
”1 want to marry,” I explained. ”1
want to Inspect all the offerings before
I decide. You are to train me so that I
can go among the herds that’d shy off
from me If I wasn’t on to their little
ways.”
He looked suspiciously at me, doubt
less thinking this some new develop
ment of "American humor.”
"I mean It,” I assured him. "I'm go
ing to train, and train hard. I’ve got
no time to lose. I must he on my way
down the aisle Inside of three months.
I give you a free hand. I'll do just what
you say.”
"The Job's out of my line," he pro
tested.
"I know better,” said I. “I’ve always
seen the parlor under the stable In you.
We’ll begin right away. What do you
think of these clothes?”
"Well—they're not exactly noisy,” he
said. “But—they're far from silent.
That waistcoat-” He stopped and
gave me another nervous, timid look.
He found It hard to believe a man of
my sort, so self assured, would stand
the truth from a man of his second
fiddle sort.
■ uo on: i commanded. speak out!
Mowbray Lnngdon had on one twice
as loud the other day at the track."
"Hut, perhaps you'll remember, It
was only his waistcoat that was loud—
not be himself. Now, a man of your
manner and voice and—you've got a
look out of the eyes that’d wake the
dead all by itself. People can feel you
coming before they hear you. When
they feel and hear and see all together
•—it’s like a brass band In scarlet uni
form, with a seven-foot, sky-blue drum
major. If your hair wasn’t so black
and your eyes so steel-blue and sharp,
and your teeth so big and strong and
white, and your Jaw such a—such a—
jaw-"
"I see the point,” said I. And I did.
"You’ll find you won't need to tell me
many things twice. I've got a busy day
before me here; so we'll have to sus
pend this until you come to dine with
me at 8—at my rooms. I want you to
put In the time well. Go to my house
in the country and then up to my
apartment; take my valet with you;
look through all my belongings—shirts,
ties, socks, trousers, waistcoats, clothes
of every kind. Throw out every rag
you think doesn't fit In with what I
want to be. How's my grammar?"
I was proud of it; I had been taking
more or less pains with my mode of
speech for a dozen years. "Rather too
good," said he. "But that's better than
making the breaks that aren't regarded
as good form."
“Good form!” I exclaimed. "That’s it!
That's what I want! What does 'good
form’ mean?”
He laughed. “You can search me,”
said he. "I could easier tell you—any
thing else. It's what everybody rec
ognizes on sight, and nobody knows
how to describe it. It’s llkti the dlf
1 ference between a cultivated 'Jimson'
| weed and a wild one.”
| “Like the difference between Mow
bray Langdon and me," I suggested
. good-naturedly. "How about my man
utrs?"
"Not so bad," s&ld he. "Not mo rot
ten h;i(J, Hut—wr.eu you're polite, you’re
a 11!tl« •«> polite. when you'' -' :>or po
lite yon —”
“St i - -1•* T from too p 1 atr'
ly?” sac! 1 '•Speak rig-,,-. < 11 goo ;
end hud ire I u,o fo>- ’good
form ?’
‘‘You needn’t hother about that," lie
assured me. ‘’S ; whateve: comes
into your head—only, be sure the right
sort of thli.'i comes Into your head.
Don't talk . jo much about yourself,
for lo'd.ncc. It's good form to think
■ bout ycirs'Mf all the '.line, It’s bad
form to let people see it—In year talk.
Say as ’ 1111. as possible your
business and about what you" e got.
Don’t be lavish \vf*b the I's and the
my’s.”
"That’s harder,' .eld I. "I’m a ma
who has always mi ’ led his own bust
nest, and oared for nothing else. Wlia“
could I talk about, ea icpt myself?”
"Blest if I know,” replied he. ’’Where
you want to go, the cist thing people
mind is their own business—in talk, at
least. But you’ll go! on all rlghi If
you don’t worry too . iuch about '
You’ve got natural independence, ar.l
an original way of putting things .vnd
common sense. Don’t b« afraid."
"Afraid!" said X. "X never knew
what it was to be afraid."
"Your nerve'll curry you through,"
he assured me. "WervfT. '..ike a man
anywhere."
"You never said a ti c - thing In your
life,” said I. "It'll take him wherever
he wants, and, after he’s there, It’ll get
him whatever he wants.”
And with that, I. thinking of my
plans and of how sure I was of suc
cess, began to march up and down the
office with my chest thrown out—until
I caught myself at It. That stopped
me, set me off in a laugh at my own
expense, he. joining In with a kind of
heartiness I did not like, though I did
not venture to check him.
So ended the first lesson—the first
of a long series. I soon saw that Mon
son was being most useful to me—-far
more useful than If he were a "perfect
gentleman" with nothing of the track
and stable and bark stairs about him.
Being a sort of betwixt and between,
he could appreciate my needs as they
could not have been appreciated by a
fellow who had never lived in the
rough-aml-tumble I had fought my
way up through. And being at bottom
a real gentleman, and not one of those
nervous, snobbish make-believes, he
wasn't so busy trying to hide his own
deficiencies from me that he couldn’t
teach mo anything. He wasn’t afraid
of being found out, as Sam—or per
haps, even Langdon—would have been
in the samo circumstances. I wonder
If there is another country where so
many gentlemen and ladles are horn,
or another where so many of them
have their natural gentility educated
out of them?
VIII.
ON THE TRAIL OP LANGDON.
I had Monson with me twice each
week-day—early In the morning and
again after business hours until bed
time. Also he spent the whole of ev
ery Saturday and Sunday with me. He
developed astonishing dexterity as a
teacher, and as soon as he realized that
I had no false pride and was thor
oughly in earnest he handled me with
out gloves—like a boxing teacher who
finds that his pupil has the grit of a
professional. It was easy enough for
me to grasp the theory of my new bus
iness—it was nothing more than "Be
natural." But the rub came in mak
ing myself naturally of the right sort.
I had—as I suppose every man of in
telligence and decent instincts has—a
disposition to be friendly and simple.
But my manner was by nature what
you might call abrupt. My not very
easy task was to learn the subtle dif
ference between the abrupt that injects
a tonic Into social intercourse, and the
abrupt that makes the other person
shut up with a feeling of having been
insulted.
Then, there was the matter of good
taste in conversation. Monson found,
as I soon saw, that my everlasting self
assertiveness was beyond cure. As I
said to him: "I'm afraid you might
easier succeed in reducing my chest
measure." But we worked away at it,
and perhaps my readers may discover
even in this narrative, though it is nec
essarily egotistic, evidence of at least
an honest effort not to be badly boast
ful. Monson would have liked to make
of me a self-deprecating sort of per
son—such as he was himself, with the
result that the other fellow always got
the prize and he got left. But I would
have none of it.
"How are people to know about you,
if you don't tell ’em?" I argued. "Don't
you yourself admit that men take a
man at his own valuation less a slight
discount, and that women take him at
his own valuation plus an allowance
for his supposed modesty?"
“Cracking yourself up Is vulgar,
nevertheless," declared the English
man. “It's the chief reason why we
on the other side look on you Amer
icans as a lot of vulgarians—’’
"And are in awe of our superior
cleverness,” I put in.
He laughed.
"Well, do the best you can," said he.
“Only, you really must not brag and
swagger, and you must get out of
the habit of talking louder than any
one else.”
In the matter of dress, our task was
easy. I had a fancy for bright colors
and" for strong contrasts; bat I know I
never indulged in clashes and discords.
It was simply that in clothes 1 had
the same taste as in pictures—the taste
that made me prefer Rubens to Rem
brandt. We cast out of my wardrobe
everything in the least doubtful; and
I gave away my jeweled canes, my
pins and links and buttons for shirts
and waistcoats except plain gold and
DEBTS OF OUR YOUTH.
"T^ell, here, then. Billy, I’ll lend yei
itiree puffs till Tuesday.”
I pearls. I even left off the magnificent
! diamond I had worn for years on my
: little finger—but I didn’t give away
' that stone; I put it by for resetting
! into an engagement ring. However,
’ wh n I was as quietly dressed as it
| was possible for a gentleman to be,
I he stiil studied me dubiously, when he
thou'.'tit 1 \ '■ n’t seeing him. And 1
re-all that he said once: "It’s your
face, Blacklock. If you could only
manage to look less like a Spanish bull
I dashing into the ring, gazing joyfully
: about for somebody to gore and toss!”
i "nut I can't,’’ said I. “And I would
; n't if I could—because that’s me!"
. One Saturday h • brought a dancing
master down to my country place—
Dawn Hill, which I bought of the Du
• roont estate and completely remod
eled. I saw what the man’s business
! was the instant I looked at him. I
left him in the hali and took Monson
into my dert.
“Not ft r me!” I protested. "There’s
where I draw the line.''
"You don't understand," he urged.
“This fellow, this Alphonse T.yneh, out
in the hall there, isn’t going to teach
you dancing so that you may dance,
but so that you shall he less awk
ward in strange company.”
"My walk suits me,” said I. “And
I don't fall over furniture or trip peo
ple up."
“True enough,” he answered. "But
! . i haven't the complete control of
.; r body that'll make you uncon
i si-bus of it when you're suddenly shot
| Vv a butler into a room full of people
; - ,u suspect of being unfitendly and
| critical.”
Not until he used his authority as
trainer-ln-full-charge, did I yield. It
may seem absurd to some for a seri
ous man like me solemnly to caper
about in imitation of a scraping, grim- I
acing French-Irishman; but Monson ]
was -Ight, and I haven’t in the least
minded the ridicule he has brought on
me by tattling this and the other things
everywhere, since he turned against
me. It’s nothing new under the sun
for the crowds of chuckleheads to
laugli whore they ought to applaud;
their habit is to laugh and to applaud
In the wrong places. There’s no part
of my career that I'm prouder of than
the whole of this thorough course of
education in the trifles that are yet
not trifles. To have been Ignorant Is
no disgrace; the disgrace comes when 1
one persists in ignorance and glories
in it.
Yet those who make the most pre- |
tensions In this topsy-turvy of a world I
regard it as a disgrace to have been 1
obscure and Ignorant, and pride them
selves upon their persistence In their
own kind of obscurity and ignorance! 1
No wonder the few strong men do
about as they please with such a race
of mlscompoopery. If they didn’t grow
old and tired, what would they not do?
All this time I was giving myself—or
thought I was giving myself—chiefly to
my business, as usual. I know now that
the new Interests had In fact crowded
the things down town far into the
background, had Impaired my judg
ment, had suspended my common
sense; but I had no Inkling of this
then. The most Important matter that
was occupying me down town was
pushing Textile up toward par. Lang
don's doubts, little though they influ
enced me, still made enough of an im
pression to cause me to test the mar
ket. I sold for him at ninety, as he
had directed; I sold in quantity every
day. But no matter how much I un
loaded, the price showed no tendency
to break.
“This," said I to myself, “Is a testi
monial to the skill with which I pre
pared for my bull campaign.” And
that seemed to me—all unsuspicious as
I then was—a sufficient explanation of i
the steadiness of the stock which I
had worked to establish in the public
confidence.
I felt that, If my matrimonial plans
should turn out as I confidently ex
pected, I should need a much larger
fortune than I had—for I was deter
mined that my wife should have an
establishment second to none. Accord
ingly. I enlarged my original plan. I
had intended to keep close to Langdon
in that plunge; I believed I controlled
the market, but I hadn’t been in Wall
street twenty years without learning
that the worst thunderbolts fall from
cloudless skies. Without being in the
least suspicious of Langdon, and sim
ply acting on the general principle that
surprise and treachery are part of the
code of high finance, I had prepared to
guard, first, against being taken in the
rear by a secret change of plan on
Langdon’s part, and, second, against
being involved and overwhelmed by a
sudden secret attack on him from some j
associate of his who might think he ;
had laid himself open to successful |
raiding.
The market is especially dangerous
toward Christmas and in the spring—
toward Christmas the big fellows of
ten juggle the stocks to get the money
for their big Christmas gifts and alms;
toward spring the motive Is. of course,
the extra summer expenses of their
families and the commencement gifts
to colleges. It was now late in the
spring.
I abandoned caution and rushed In
boldly, feeling that the market was,
In general, safe and that Textile was
under iny control—and that I was one
of the kings of high finance, with my
lucky star In the zenith. I decided to
continue my bull campaign on my own
account for two weeks after I had un
loaded for Langdon, to continue it un
til the stock was at par. I had no dlf
flculty in pushing it up to ninety-sev
en, and I was not alarmed when I
found myself loaded up with It, quoted
at ninety-eight for the preferred and
thirty for the common. I assumed that
I was practically its only supporter
and that it would slowly settle back
as I slowly withdrew my support.
To my surprise, the stock did not
yield immediately under my efforts to
depress it. I sold more heavily; Tex
tile continued to show a tendency to
rise. I sold still more heavily; it
broke a point or two, then steadied and
rose again. Instead of sending out
along my secret lines for inside infor
mation, as I should have done, and
would have done had I not been in a
state of hypnotized Judgment—I went
to Langdon! I who had been studying
those scoundrels for twenty-odd years,
and dealing directly with and for thenj
for ten yeais!
(Continued Next Week.)
Safe.
From Harper’s Weekly.
An official In the land office ut Washing
ton relates how Dr. Whipple, for a long
time bishop of Minnesota, once undertook
to hold religious services near an Indian
village in one of the western states.
It appears that the bishop’s effects were
scattered about the ’’lodge,’’ and, when
about to go it, he asked the chief if it were
Safe to leave them here while he went to
the village for the service.
’’Plenty safe,” grunted the Indian; "no
white man In a hundred miles from here.
True—True.
"Secret marriages are no good. You
can't possibly conceal them very long."
"Oh. 1 don't know-”
"No. you don’t. As soon as a di
vorce Is applied for Its all bound to
j come out."
Apropos of a Drink.
From the Princeton Tiger.
Boggs—How has tile world been
treating you?
Hoggs—Not often enough, old mttn.
He Had Paid for AIT.
The English custom of free seats and
1 collection plates in church Is puzzling to
continental visitors. In Roman Catholic
; countries it is usual to make a small pay
ment on entering a church. A Frenchman
on a visit to Manchester not long ago, ac
cording to the Guardian, attended services
in one of the parish churches. With him
was a party of English friends. The for
eigner was seated at the outer end of the
pew. The plate came around in due
course, and the visitor was the first to
deposit a coin in It. The collector was
about to pass the plate along to his Eng
lish friends when the Frenchman inter
posed: "Ah, no. I have paid for all tho
seats."
jGffiilfaP Thousands o f
li V women suffer dally
languor, nervous
J ness and a dozen
» h other symptoms of
\Will Ksgr kidney trouble, but
/JM causes. Make no
ffl/j B yy mistake. Keep the
I i»V\ kidneys well, and
vifj'l BA these aches and
mSjj /1 * troubles will disap
lll) Mrs. Anthony
Cadrette, 77 Me
chanic St., Leominster, Mass., says:
“My sight failed, I had sharp pain in
my back and bearing-down pains
through the hips. I was nervous, fret
ful and miserable. The urine was
greatly disordered and I began to have
the swellings of dropsy. I was running
down fast when I started using Doan’s
Kidney Tills. A wonderful change
came and after using them faithfully
for a short time I was well.”
Sold by all dealers. 50 cents a box.
Foster-Milburn Co., Uuffalo, N. Y.
Credentials All Right.
Mrs. Tiptop—Horrors! Engaged to
that man? Are you crazy? He made
his money in trade!
Miss Tiptop—Oh, no, ma; he used to
be a New York politician, and he
stole it.
Mrs. Tiptop—Oh. That’s different.
The Ideal Family Laxative
is one that can be used by the entire
family, young and old, weak and strong,
without any danger of harmful effects. It
should have properties which insure the
same dose always having the same effect,
otherwise the quantity will have to be
increased and finally lose its effect alto
gether. These properties can be found in
that old family remedy, Brandreth’s Bills,
because its ingredients are of the purest
herbal extracts, and every pill is kept for
three years before being sold, which al
lows them to mellow. We do not Believe
there is a laxative on the market that is
60 carefully made.
Brandreth’s Bills are the same fine lax
ative tonic pill your grandparents used.
They have been in use for over a century
and are sold in every drug store and medi
cine store, either plain or sugar-coated.
GOOD OLD CHARLEY.
Old Charley was in his stall He had
a pan of oats before him.
Charley was sleek and fat. He was
the pride of his master, Tony Petrino.
He was the pet of 4-year-old Anna and
her mother. Charley’s master was a
contractor and it was Charley’s work
to haul bricks.
Tony Petrino went to the barn after
breakfast. Anna went with him.
Charley neighed as he heard them
come. Anna had an apple in her hand.
She slipped into the stall and held
the apple up to Charley. “It isn’t very
nice,” she said. “There are specks in
it, but you won’t mind, Charley."
Charley put his head down and took
the apple at one mouthful.
Anna laughed. “He likes specked
apples,” she cried.
Tony brought Charley out into the
yard.
"Are you going to drive him?” asked
Anna.
“No, I’m going to curry him.”
The curry comb and brush slipped
over Charley’s sides. Anna watched
them a few' minutes. Then she ran off
to play. Tony Petrino finished smooth
ing Charley’s coat. He threw down
some hay for the horse and then walked
to w-ork.
Near Anna’s home in Jersey City is
a canal. Anna spent the morning
there. There were other girls and boys
at play. The girls picked up little
stones and threw them Into the water.
The boys were making boats of wood.
They put them into the canal. Anna
watched the children. She ran along
the stream beside the boats. One boat
ran against the shore. Anna leaned
over the bank to see it.
The bank was slippery.
Splash! She fell into the water.
“Oh, oh! Mother! Mother!” cried
the little girl.
“Help, help! Anna will drown,”
called the children.
Anna's mother heard her.
Somebody else had seen Anna fall
and heard her scream. It was Char
ley. He had strayed from the yard
He went swiftly toward the canal and
straight to Anna.
The girl’s dress floated upon the wa
ter. Charley seized it in his teeth.
He gave a steady pull and lifted Anna
out. The water ran in streams from
her dress as he laid her gently on the
bank.
Mrs. Petrino picked Anna up and
held her in her arms.
Anna began to sob.
“My little girl is safe,” her mother
said. “She will soon he in the house
and have some dry clothes on. She
must not cry.”
When Anna heard her mother speak
she became quiet. Mrs. Petrino hur
ried home. Charley walked beside her.
Now and then he put his nose to An
na’s dress as if to make sure she was
quite safe.
Mrs. Petrino put out one hand to
put his neck. “Good, old Charley," she
said; "I’m proud of you."
Charley laid back his ears and
rubbed her sleeve.
“We will give him all the apples he
can eat, won’t we?’ said Anna. Site
had been too frightened to speak be
fore.
Mrs. Petrino carried Anna into the
house. Site soon tucked her In bed.
When Tony Petrino came home that
night his wife told him how Charley
took Anna from the canal.
“I will never sell Charley now,” he
said. “No, not for his cart full of gold.”
—Little Chronicle.
Will It Be Ever Thus?
From the Brooklyn Life.
First Angel—“What’s the matter with
that spirit in the seventh heaven?”
Second Angel—“He complains that the
Bpirlt in the Bixth heaven won’t atop i>rac
tlsing his harp "
Sunday School Teacher—If angry
with another little boy, what should
you do before speaking. Tommy?
Tommy—Sit on him and then count
a hundred.
An Avaricious Lawyer.
From the Detroit Free Press.
“How much money will you get for de
fending that client?” asked a friend.
“Don’t know,” replied the lawyer. “De
pends on how much he's got. We'll get
all he has.”
This Will Interest mothers.
Mother Gray’s Sweet Powders for Chil
dren, used by Mother Gray, a nurse In Chil
dren’s Home, New York, cure Constipation,
Feverishness, Teething Disorders, Stomach
Troubles and Destroy Worms; 30.000 testi
monials of cures. All druggists. 25c. Sam
ple Fkee. Address Allen S. Olmsted, Le
Hoy, N. Y.
Satan’s Relative.
Jones stayed out late o’ nights and came
home In a very maudlin state. Mrs. Jones
thought out a brilliant plan for bringing
about his reform. One morning early she
wrapped hereelf in a sheet, pulled a pillow
slip over her head and, stepping Into the
hall just as Jones entered, thundered in
awful tones, “I am the devil!”
“Shake, oV man,” said Jones, “I’m
brother-in-law o’ yours, married your
oldes’ sishter.”
I
There Is more Catarrh in this section of
the country than all other diseases put to
gether, and until the last few years was
supposed to be incurable. For a great many
t years doctors pronounced It a local disease
and prescribed local remedies, and by con
stantly falling to cure with local treatment,
pronounced it Incurable. Science has prov
en catarrh to be a constitutional disease
and therefore requires constitutional treat
ment. Hall’s Catarrh Cure, manufactured
by F. J. Cheney & Co., Toledo, Ohio, Is the
only constitutional cure on the market, tl
Is taken Internally In doses from 10 drops
to a teaspoonful. It acts directly on the
blood and mucous surfaces of the system.
They offer one hundred dollars for any case
It falls to cure. Send for circulars and tes
timonials.
Address F. J. CHENEY <fc CO., Toledo, O.
Sold by Druggists, 75c.
Take Hall’s Family Pills for constipation.
A Hundred-to-One Shot.
At the racetrack at Oakland. Cal.,
during the early part of last season,
R-n. a well known jockey, was
thrown and badly injured. The doctors,
in consultation, decided that an imme
diate operation was necessary to save
the boy’s life. On being informed of
this, the injured one was asked what
his chances were, and was told: About
one in ten if we operate.”
“And if you don’t operate. Doc?”
“Well, about one in a hundred.”
“Sort of in God’s hands, ain’t it?”
“Why, certainly,” admitted the sur
prised M. D.
A contented grin touched the jockey’s
pale lips and twinkled in his shrewd
eyes.
“Well say. Doc, I guess I’d rather
play a hundred to one shot with Him
in the saddle than a ten to one with
you fellows up. Just let her go. Doc.”
She went. The long shot won and
R-n is again riding winners at
the old place.
Consolation for the Artist.
From the Youth’s Companion.
The lato Lord Leighton, president of the
Royal Academy, once had a chance to
learn something about himself that per
haps he had not suspected. His chance
came to him at a picture gallery, where
his painting “Helen of Troy” was on ex
hibition.
He joined a group of ladies who were
standing before it just in time to hear one
of the number say:
“It’s a horrid picture—simply horrid!**
“I’m sorry, but it’s mine!” Lord Leigh
ton exclaimed involuntarily.
“You don't mean to say you’ve bought
the thing?” questioned the same lady.
"No; I—painted it,' the artist humbly re
plied.
The critical lady was momentarily
abashed; then she said easily:
“Oh, you musn’t mind what I say.”
"No, indeed, you musn’t,” another be
gan earnestly. “She’s only said what ev
erybody else is saying!”
HARD TO SEE
Even When the Fuels About Coffee
Are Plain.
It Is curious how people will refuse
to believe what one can clearly see.
Tell the average man or woman that <
the slow but cumulative poisonous ef
fect of caffeine—the alkaloid in tea and
goffee—tends to weaken the heart, up
pot the nervous system and cause indi
gestion and they may laugh at you if
they don’t know the facts.
Prove it by science or by practical
demonstration In the recovery of cof
fee drinkers from the above conditions,
and a large per cent of the human fam
ily will shrug their shoulders, take
pome drugs and—keep on drinking cof
fee or tea.
“Coffee never agreed with me nor
with several members of our house
hold,” writes a lady. “It enervates,
depresses and creates a feeling of lan
guor and heaviness. It was only by
leaving off coffee and using Postum
that we discovered the cause and cure
of these ills.
“The only reason, I am sure, why
Postum Is not used altogether to the
exclusion of ordinary coffee Is. many
persons do not know and do not seem
willing to learn the facts anti how to
prepare tills nutritious beverage.
There's only one way—according to di
rections—boil it fully lb minutes. Then
it is delicious.” Name given by Postum
Co., Battle Creek, Mich. Bead the lit
tle book. “The Boad to Welivllle,” in
pkga. ’There's a reason.”
>
