NOVEMBER AILMENTS
THEIR PREVENTION AND CURE
N<mrob«r is the month of fulling
«»niper»tnre». Over all the temperate
region* the hot weather has passed and
the flr»t rigors of winter nave appeared.
Aa the great bulk of civilised nations is
located in the Temperate Zones, the
-effect of cbimg
Tbe Human System ing srieons is a
Must Adjust Itself <Ju';sti<m • of 1,10
. highest, impor
to Changing Tcm when tlm
per a Lures. weather begins
.. 1 ■■ " to change from
warm to cold, when cool nights succeed
ho* night*, when dear, cold days follow
feot, buJtry days, the hum in body must
adjust kaeJf to this changed condition
at perish.
The perspiration incident to warm
weather has been checked. This detains
within the system poisonous materials
which have heretofore found escape
■through the perspiration.
Most of the poisonous materials re
tained in the system by the checked
perspiration find their way out of the
body, if at all, through the kidneys.
This throws upon the kidneys extra
labor. They become charged und over
loaded with the poisonous excretory
dialer! ala. This has a ten lency to in
flame the kidneys, producing functional
diseases of the kidneys and sometimes
JBright’s Disease.
Peruna acts upon the skin by stimu
lating the einunctory glands and ducts,
thus preventing the detention of poison
ous materials which should pass out.
Peruna invigorates the kidneys and en
courage* them to fulfill their function
(n spite of the chills und discouragements
pf ooid weather.
Peruna is a coin --
biliatlon of well Pc ru na is a World
tried harmless Renowned Kem
remedies that _
have stood the cay for C.lmah<
test of time. Dlscses
Many of these ' ..w—.—™.
remedies have been used by doctors and
by the people in Kurope and America
for a hundred years.
Peruna lias been used by Dr. Hart man
*n his private practice for many years
with notable results. Us efficacy lias
been proven by decades of use by thou
sands of people ami has been substan
tiated over and over by many thou
sands of homes.
Balloon Law Needed.
Two women were* talking over their'
■tea in a woman’s club.
‘‘This balloon fad is all right,” said
*th« first. ”i see that George Bernard
Bhaw, Pinero, tin- Goulds, Harry Lehr,
til sorts of celebrities, make occasional
recensions. But at the same time—”
She made a gesture of repudiation
find horror.
”At the same time,” said the other
woman, “it’s a risky business, eh? Well,
that is the truth. My husband went up
*1i> a balloon last week, and 1 haven’t
•spoken to him since. What right had
lie to risk his life* like that? He has
nothing saved, and we live at a $7,500
.rate. Suppose anything had happened
io him. what would then become of
*ne, with nothing in the world but a
$15,000 Insurance?”
“In Vienna,” said the first woman,v
''they have a law that is needed here.
No married Viennese male is allowed to
up in a balloon without the formal
•ponsent, before witnesses, of his wife.
'That is as it should be. I am positive,
•If the ballooning craze continues, that
Mtw such law will be adopted in
America.”
"It should be,” said the second wom
an, “and if it is, it will bar my hus
Tand out. rest assured."
Love of Animals.
From Harper's Weekly.
Mark Twain was talking of war and
©f the hardships and privations of
©leges.
"A Frenchman,” hr said, “called one
day on a won an who had two dogs.
They were ugly little brutes, and, when
<hey came near him, the man pushed
Them out of the way with his foot.
"T perceive, sir, you are not very
fond of dogs.’
“The man started in surprise.
” Tm not fond of dogs!’ he ex
claimed. ‘Why, madam, 1 ate rnoro'
than twenty of them during the siego
»©f Paris!’”
Minnie’s Sincere Prayer.
Prom Everybody’s Magazine.
'There had been a dressmaker in the
\$ouse, and Minnie had listened to long dis
cussions about the very latest fashions.
That night when she said her prayers, she
jdded a new petition, uttered with un
wonted fervency:
"And. dear Lord, please make us all very
*ftylisK”
A DOCTOR’S TRIALS.
Ve Soraetluiea Oeln Slclt I.lke Othe.
People.
Even doing good to people is hard ,
work If you have too much of It to do.
No oue knows tills better than the
bard-working, conscientious family doc
tor. lie has troubles of his own—often*
gets caught In the rain or snow, or loses
eo much. sleep he sometimes gets out
of sorts. An overworked Ohio doctor
|ells his experience:
“About three years ago as the result
of doing two men’s work, attending a
large practice and looking after the de
tails of another business, my health*
broke down completely, and I was little*
fetter than a physical wreck.
*1 suffered from indigestion and oou
Btlpatiou, loss of weight and appetite,
bloatiug and pain after meals, loss of
memory and lack of nerve force for*
continued mental application.
* “1 became Irritable, easily angered'
end despondent without cause. The'
heart’s action became Irregular and,
weak, with frequent attacks of palpita
tion during the tirst hour or two after
retiring.
“Some Grape-Nuts and cut bananas
came for my lunch one day and pleased'
me particularly with the result. I got
more satisfaction from it than from
anything 1 had eaten for months, and*
on further investigation and use, adopt
ed Grape-Nuts for my morning and
evening meals, served usually with
cream and a sprinkle of salt or sugar.
"‘My Improvement was rapid and per
manent In weight as well as in physi
cal and mental endurance. In a word,
I am tilled with the joy of living again,
Wnd continue the dally use of Grape
Nuts for breakfast and often for the
evening meal.
“'The little pamphlet, ‘The Itoad to
Wellvllle,’ found in pkgs., Is Invariably
waved and handed to some needy pa
tient along with the Indicated remedy.”
Name given by Fostum Co.. Battle
Creek, Mich. “There’s a leason.”
t
i
“Kxeuses, excuses, Walters,” was
Roebuck’s answer, with a sad, disap
pointed look, as If he had hoped Wal
ters would make a brighter showing for
; himself. “How many times have you
| yourself talked to me of this eternal
excuse habit of men who fail? And if I
expended my limited brain power in
looking into all the excuses and expla
nations, what energy or time would I
have for constructive work? All I can
i do is to selec t a man for a position and
to judge him by results. You were put
In (barge to produce dividends. I’m
sorry, and I venture* to hope that things
j are not so bad as you make out in your
| eagerness to excuse yourself. For the
! rake of old times, Tom, I ignore your
angry insinuations against me. I try to
be Just, and to be Just one must al
ways be impersonal.”
“Well,” said Walters with an air of
; desperation, “give me another year, Mr.
Roebuck, and I’ll produce results all
right. I’ll break the agreements and
j cut rates, rn freeze out the branch
roads and our minority stockholders.
I’ll keep the books so that all the ex
pert accountants in New York couldn’t
untangle them. I’ll wink at and com
! mit and order committed all the necr
! essary crimes. I don’t know why I’ve
been so squeamish, when there were so
many penitentiary offenses that I did
consent to, and, for that matter, com
mit, without a quiver. 1 thought I
ought to draw the line somewhere—
and I drew if at keeping my personal
word and at keeping the books reason
ably straight. But I’ll go the limit.”
I’ll never forget Roebuck’s expres
sion; It was perfect, simply perfect - -a
great ami good man outraged beyond
endurance, but a Christian still. “You
have, made It impossible for me to tem
per justice with mercy, Walters,” said
ho. “If it were not for the long years
of association, for the affection for
you which has grown up in me, I
should hand you over to the fate you
have earned. You tell me you have
been committing crimes in my service.
You tell me you will commit more and
greater crimes. 1 can scarcely believe
my own ears.”
Walters laughed scornfully—the reck
less laugh of a man who suddenly sees
that ho Is cornered and must light for;
his life. “Rot!” he jeered. “Hot! You
always have he- n a wonder at juggling
with your conscience. But do you ex
pect me to believe you think yourself
innocent because you do not yourself
execute the orders you Issue- -orders
that can be carried out only by com
mitting crime s?” Walters was now be
side himself with rage. He gave the
r< igns to that high horse he h;yl been
riding ever .since lie was promoted to
the presidency of the great coal road.
He began t«> lay on whip and spur.
“Do you think,” he cried to Roebuck,
“the blood of those 600 men drowned
In the prquot mine is not on your
hands your head? You, who ordered
John Wilkinson to suppress the compe
tition the Pequot was giving you. or
dered him in such a way that he knew
the alternative was his own ruin? He
shot himself- yet he had as good an
excuse as you, for he, too, passed on
the order until it got to the poor fire
man -that wretched fellow they sent to
the penitentiary for life? Arid as sure
as there is a God in heaven, you will
some day do a long, long sentence in
whatever hell there is, for le tting that
wri'tch rot in prison—yes, and for John
Wilkinson’s suicide, and for the lives
of those 600 drowned. Your pensions
to the widows and orphans can’t save
you.”
[ listened to this tirade astounded.
Used as l was to nu n losing their
heads through vanity, I could not cred
it my own cars and eyes when they
reported to me this insane exhibition.
I looked at Roebuck. He was wearing
an expression of beatific patience; he
would have made a fine study for a
picture of the martyr at the stake.
"I forgive you, Tom,” he said, when
Walters stopped for breath. “Your own
sinful heart makes you see the black
of sin upon everything. I had heard
that you were going about making
loud boasts of your power over your
employers, but I tried not to believe it.
I see now that you have, indeed, lost
your senses. Your prosperity has been
too much for your good sense.” He
sighed mournfully. ”1 shall not Inter
fere to prevent your getting a position
elsewhere,” he continued. “But after
what you have confessed, after your
slanders, how can I put you back in
your old place out west, as I Intended?
How can l continue the interest in you and
care for your career that I have had, in
spite of all your shortcomings? 1 who
raised you up from a clerk.”
"Raised me up as you follows always
raise men up—because you find them
clever at doing your dirty work. I was a
decent, honest fellow when you first took
notice of me and tempted me. But, by
God. Mr. Roebuck, if I’ve sold out beyond
hope of living decent again. I’ll have my
price—to the last cent. You’ve got to
leave mo where 1 am or give me a place
and salary equally as good.” This Walters
said blusterlngly, but beneath I could
detect the beginnings of a whine.
"You are angry, Tom,” said Roebuck
soothingly. "I have hurt your vanity it
is one of the heaviest crosses I have to
bear, that I must be continually hurting
the vanity of men. Go away and—and
calm down. Think the situation over
coolly; then come and apologize to me,and
l will do what I can to help you. As for
your threats—when you are calm, you will
see how idle they are."
Walters gave a sort of groan; and
(hough I, blinded by my prejudices In
favor of Roebuck and of the crowd with
whom my interests lay, had been feeling
that he was an impudent and crazy in
grate, I pitied him.
"What proofs have I got?" he said des
perately. "If 1 show up the things 1 know
about, 1 show myself up, and everybody
will say I'm lying about you and the
others in the effort to save myself. The
newspapers would denounce me as a
treacherous liar—you fellows own or con
trol or foozle them in one way and an
other. And if 1 was believed, who'd pros
ecute you and what court'd condemn you?
Don't you own both political parties and
make all the tickets, and can't you ruin
any office holders who lifted a finger
against you? What a hell of a state of
affairs!"
A swifter or a weaker descent I never
witnessed. My pity changed to contempt.
"This fellow, with his great reputation,”
thought I, "is a fool and a knave, and a
weak one at that."
"Go away now, Tom," said Roebuck.
"When you’re master of yourself again,
come to see me.”
"Master of myself!” cried Walters bit
terly. "W ho that's got anything to lose
is master of himself in this country?"
With shoulders sagging and a sort of
stumble in his gait, he went toward the
door. Ho paused there to say: "I’ve
served too long, Mr. Roebuck. There’s no
fight in me. 1 thought there was, but
there ain’t. Do the best you can for me."
And he took himself out of our sight.
I You will wonder how 1 was ever able to
j blind myself to the reality of this fright
ful scone. But please remember that in
this world every thought and every act is
a mixture of the good and the bad; and
the one or the other shows the more prom
inently according to one’s point of view.
There probably isn’t a criminal In any
cell, anywhere, no matter what he may
say in sniveling pretense in the hope of
lighter sentence, who doesn't at the
bottom of his heart beliovo his crime or
crimes somehow justifiable—and who
couldn’t make out a plausible case for
himself.
At that time T was stuffed with the
arrogance of my fancied membership in
the caste of directing financial geniuses;
I was looking at everything from the
viewpoint of the brotherhood of which
Roebuck was the strongest brother, and
of which I imagined myself a full and
equal member. I did not, I could not,
blind myself to the vivid reminders of his
rntentlessness; but I knew too well how
necessary the iron hand and the fixed
purpose are to great affairs to judge him
as infuriated Walters, with his vanity
savagely wounded, was judging him. I’d
• is soon have thought of describing Gen
eral Grant as a mufdcrer, because be
ordered the battles in which men were
killed or because he planned and led the
campaigns In which subordinates com
mitted rapine and pillage and assassina
tion. 1 did not then see the radical differ
ence—did not realize that while Grant’s
work was at the command of patriotism
and necessity, there was no necessity
whatever for Roebuck’s getting rich but
the command of his own greedy and cruel
appetites.
Don’t misunderstand me. My morals arc
practical, not theoretical. Men must die,
old customs embodied In law must bo
broken, the venal must be bribed and the
weak cowed and compelled, in order that
civilization may advance. You can’t es
tablish a railway or a great industrial
! system by rose-water morality. But I
shall show, before I finish, that Roebuck
and his gang of so called “organizers of
industry” bear about the same relation to
industry that the boll weevil bears to the
cotton crop.
I’ll withdraw this, If one can
show mo that, as the result of
the activities of those parasites,
anybody anywhere is using or is able to
use a single, pound or bushel of yard mere
• •f any commodity whatsoever. I’ll with
draw It. if f can not show that but for
those parasites, bearing i re isc’y the j-ame
relation to our society that the kngs and
nobles and priests bore to France before
the revolution, everybody except them
would have more goods and more money
than they have under the system the en
ables these parasites to overshadow the
highways of commerce with their strong
holds and to clog them with their toll
gates. They know little about producing,
about manufacturing, about distributing,
about any process of industry. Their skill
Is In temptation, in trickery and In terror.
On that day, however, I sided—honestly,
as I thought—with Roebuck. What I saw
and heard increased my admiration of the
man, my already profound respect for his
master mind. And when, just after Wal
lers went out, he leaned back in his chatr
and sat silent with closed eyes and mov
ing lips, I—yes, I, Matt Blacklock, “Black
Matt,” as they call me—was awed in the
presence of tills great and good man at
prayer 1
lb.\y he and that God of his must have
laughed at mo! So infatuated was I that,
< lear as it is that he’d never have let mo
be present at such a scene without a
strong uljtcr'.or motive, not until he him
self long afterward made it Impossible for
mo to deceive myself did I penetrate to his
real purpose—that he wished to fill me
with a prudent dread and fear of him,
with a sense of the absoluteness of his
power and of the hopelessness of trying to
combat it. But at the time 1 thought
imbecile that my vanity had made me at
the time I thought he had let me—at
present because lie genuinely liked, ad
mired and trusted me!
Is it not amazing that one who could fall
Into such colossal blunders should sur
vive to tell of them? I would not have
survived had not Roebuck arid his crowd
been at the same time making an oven
more colossal misestimate of mo than I
was making of them. My attack was vio
lent, but temporary; theirs was equally
violent, and chronic and incurable to boot.
XII.
ANITA.
On my first day In long trousers I
may have been more 111 at ease than I
was that Sunday evening at Ellerslys’;
but I doubt it.
When I came into their big drawing
room and took a look around at the
assembled guests I never felt more at
home in my life. "Yes,” said I to my
self, as Mrs. Ellersly was greeting me
and as 1 noted the friendly interest in
the glances of the women, "this is
where I belong. I’m beginning to come
into my own."
As 1 look back on It now I can't re
frain from smiling at my own simplic
ity—and snobbishness. For. so deter
mined was I to believe what I was
working for was worth while, that I
actually fancied there were upon these
in reality ordinary people, ordinary in
looks, ordinary in intelligence, some
subtle marks of superiority, that made
; th,1'in at a glance superior to the com
1 moil run. This ecstasy of snobbishness
1 deluded me as to the women only -for,
| as I looked at the men, I at once felt
1 myself their superior. They were an
I inconsequential, piittcrncd lot. I even
' was better dressed than any of them,
'except possibly Mowbray Langdon:
| and, if he showed to more advantage
than I, it was because of his manner,
j which, ns I have probably said before,
is superior to that of any human be
I ing I’ve ever seen—man or woman.
"You are to take Anita in," said Mrs.
Ellersly. With a laughable sense that
t was doing myselt proud, I crossed the
room easily and took my stand in front
of her. She shook hands with me po
litely enough. Langdon was sitting be
side her: I had interrupted their con
versation.
"Hello, Blacklock!" said Langdon,
with a quizzical, satirical smile with
the eyes only. “It seems strange to
see you at such peaceful pursuits.” His
glance traveled over me critically—and
that was the beginning of my trouble.
Presently he rose, left me alone with
her.
“You know Mr. Langdon?” she said,
obviously because she felt she must
say something.
"Oh, yes." I replied. “We are old
friends. What a tremendous swell he
is—really a swell.” This with enthu
siasm.
She made no comment. I debated
with myself whether to* go on talking
of Langdon. I decided against it be
cause all I knew of him had to do with
matters down town—and Monson had
impressed it upon me that down town
was taboo in the drawing room. I rum
maged my brain in vain for another
and suitable topic.
She sat. and I stood—she tranquil
and beautiful and cold. I every Instant
more miserably self-conseious. When
the start for the dining room was made
I offered her my left arm, though I had
carefully planned beforehand just what
I would do. She—without hesitation
and, as I know now, out of sympathy
for me In my suffering—was taking
my wrong arm, when it flashed on me
like a blinding blow in the face that
I ought to be on the other side of her.
I got red. tripped in the far-sprawling
train of Mrs. Langdon, tore it slightly,
tried to get to the other side of Miss
Ellersly by walking in front of her, re
covered myself somehow, stumbled
round behind her. walked on her train,
and finally arrived at her left side, con
scious in every red-hot atom of me
that I was making a spectacle of my
self and that the whole company was
enjoying it. I must have seemed to
them an ignorant boor; in fact, I had
been about a great deal among people
who knew how to behave. an<f had 1
never given the matter of how to con
duct myself on that particular occa
sion an instant’s thought I should have
got on without the least trouble.
It was with a sigh of profound relief
that I sank upon the chair between
Miss Ellersly and Mrs. Langdon. safe
from danger of making “breaks.” so ]
hoped, for the rest of the evening. But
within a very few minutes I realized
that my little misadventure had un
nerved me. My hands were trembling
so that I could scarcely lift the soup
spoon to my lips, and my throat had
got so far beyond control that T had
difficulty In swallowing. Miss Ellersly
and Mrs. Langdon were each busy with
the man on the other side of her; 1
was left to my own reflections, and 1
was not sure whether this made me
i? ore or less uncomfortable. To add to
my torment I grew angry, furiously
angry, with myself. I looked up and
down and across the big table, noted all
these S'*1 f-satisfied people perfectly at
their ease, and I said to myself:
“What’s the matter with you. Matt?
They’re only men and women,
and by no means the best spec
imens of the breed. You’ve got
more brains than all of ’em put to
gether. probably; is there one of the
lot that could get a job at good wages
if thrown on the world? What Jo you
care what they think of you? It’s a
damn sight more important what you
think of them, as it won’t be many
years before you’ll hold everything
they value, everything that makes
them of consequence, in the hollow of
your hand.”
7Jut. it was of no use. When Miss
Ellersly finally turned her face toward
me to indicate that she would be grac
iously pleased to listen if I had any
thing to communicate, 1 felt as If I
were slowly wilting, felt, my throat
contracting into a dry twist. What was
the matter with me? Partly, of course,
my own snobbishness, which led me
to attach the same importance to those
people that .he snobbishness of the
small and silly had got them in the
way of attaching to themselves. But
the chief cause of my inability was
Monson and his lessons. I had thought
1 was estimating at its proper value
what he was teaching. But so earnest
and serious am I by nature, and so
earnest and serious was ho about these
trivialities that lie had been brought
up to regard as whole of life, that I
had unconsciously absorbed his atti
tude; T was like a fellow who, after
cramming hard for an examination,
finds that all the questions put to him
are on things he hasn’t looked at. I
had been making an ass of myself,
and that evening I got the first in
stalment of my sound and just pun
ishment. I who had prided myself on
being ready for anything or anybody.
I who had laughed contemptously when
I repi'i how men and women, presented
at European courts, made fools of
i * r; i * i \ * rx—i w iiM iiiriue i miruiuua u.y
these people who, ns I well know, had
nothing to hark their pretensions to
superiority but n barefaced bluff.
Perhaps, had I thought this out at the
table, T should have got hack to myself
and my normal ease; but I didn’t, and
that long and terrible dinner was one
long and terrible agony of stage fright.
When the ladies withdrew, the other
men drew together, talking of people
I did not know and of things I did
rot care ahout—X thought then they
were avoiding me deliberately as a
flock of tame ducks avoids n wild one
that some wind has accidentally blown
down among them. I know now that
my forbidding aspect must have been
responsible for my isolation. However,
X sat alone, sullenly resisting old Kl
lersly’s constrained efforts to get me
into the conversation, ana angrily sus
picious that Langdon was enjoying my
discomfiture more than the clgaret he
was apparently absorbed In.
Old Rllersiy. growing more and more
nervous before my dark and sullen look,
finally seated himself before me. "I
hope you’ll stay after the others have
gone.” said he. ‘They’ll leave early,
and we can have a quiet smoke and
talk.”
All unstrung though I was, X yet had
the desperate courage to resolve that.
I’d not leave, defeated In the eyes of
the one person whose opinion X really
cared about. “Very well," said I, in
reply to him.
(Continued Next Week.)
Mark Twain's New Story.
“We all swear—everybody, including
the ladies, including Dr, Parkhurst,
that strong and brave and excellent
citizen, but superficially educated. For
It is not the word that is the sin; it is
the spirit back of the word. When an
irritated lady says ‘Chi' the spirit back
of it is ‘damn,’ and that Is the way it
is going to be recorded against her. It
always makes me so sorry when 1 hear
a lady swear like that. But if she says
‘damn’ and says it In an amiable, nice
way, it isn’t going to be recorded at
all.
“The idea that no gentleman ever
swears Is all wrong; he can swear and
still b(J a gentleman if he does it in a
nice and benevolent and affectionate
way. The historian, John Fiske, whom
I knew well and loved, was a spotless
and most noble and upright Christian
gentleman and yet he swore once. Not
exactly that, maybe; still he—but I will
tel! you about it.
"One day when he was deeply im
mersed in his work his wife came hi
much moved and profoundly distressed
and said, 'I am sorry to disturb you,
John, but I must, for this Is a serious
matter and needs to be attended to at
once.' Then lamenting, she brought a
grave accusation against their little
son. She said: ’He has been saying his
Aunt Mary is a fool and his Aunt
Martha a damned fool!' Mr. Fiske re
flected upon the matter a minute, then
said; 'Oh! well, it’s about the distinc
tion I should make between them, my
self.' ’’
Had Missed It.
From the Ladies’ Home Journal.
"What are you crying for. my poot
little boy?" said a man to a crying boy.
•'Pa fell downstairs.”
"Don't take on so, my boy. He'll get
better soon."
"That Isn’t It. Sister saw him fall—all
the way. 1 never saw nuffen."
A Practical Joke.
From the New York Weekly.
Tramp—You gave me a counterfeit
flve-dollar bill a fe w moments ago.
Practical Joker—He! he! he! ho! ho!
Found it out, eh?
"Y’es. sir; and, on my Information,
an officer is now looking for you. Gim
me five dollars in good money, and I'll
throw 'em off the track. Thanks. Ta,
ta!"
LEMONS BECOMING
SGARGE ANO DEAR
Their Use in the Manufacture
! of Confections Is Largely
Responsible.
PRICES GOINS HIGHER
The California Supply, Which fop
Years Has Almost Supplied the
Demand, Is Now Far from
Adequate.
—
Lemons have become quite a do
mestic “question.” The housewise is\
discovering that lemons are scarco and,
dear. Tile explanation of the shortages
is a simple one. This has been a rec
ord summer for the use of lemons, and'
the supply has not equaled the de
mand; prices have gone up and the'
end of the summer finds a great in
road made into the autumn stock.
Our lemon supplies are mostly guar-1
anteed hy Sicilian summers, says the;
London Daily Mail. The Messina and,
Palermo crops begin in November and'
sometimes last through the whole year,
so that the same ship may bring the
last cases of the old crop and the first
of the new. But this has been a lemon
summer, and so the last shipments
from Sicily did not provide more ths.n,
enough to meet the August heat wave.
Next to Sicily we depend upon Naples
and the Neapolitan crop, which begins,
in the early spring, usually lasts until
October, but this year, again, Neapoli
tan lemons have lasted only until the,
beginning of September. Then comes
sunny Spain, with Malaga, Murcia and
Garthagena lemons, and the groves of
Lisbon practically complete the tale of
our supplies.
Mostly from California.
California has, during the last thirty'
years, supplied some portion of the'
American demand, but the United,
States is not independent of the lemon
groves of Europe, and it is the largest
consumer of European lemons, with
Great Britain a good second.
The confectioners take their share,\
though most of their supplies come in
the form of pickled rinds and citrate
of lime. The Messina lemons, having
the most acidity, are the best for tho
purposes of the manufacture of citrate
of lime, and it is in Messina that the^
lemons whose products aro wanted by
the confectioners are dealt with.
The pulp is there turned into pow
dered citrate of lime, as it is more con
venient to export than the concentrated
lemon juice from which the manufac
turers here derive their citrate of
lime; and the rinds are put in brine and
sent over to England to be turned into
that adjunct to Christmas cheer, can
died peel. ,
Th» pciQonpp rtf lpmon Knuppzprl out'
of the peel by hand. Sicilian girls
stand with a pile of peel cut into quar-1
ters at their side and before them i^
a sponge. That is all their apparatus.
They squeeze each quarter of the rind'
and a jet of essence issues forth and is
soaked up by the sponge. Then the
sponge is squeezed and the costly es-1
sence is bottled, but thousands of lem-V
0113 are necessary to fill a tiny vial.
Tree Is a brail Plant. \
The lemon tree is a frail plant and
not so hardy as the orange. It is so
used to the genial kindness of the sun
that a nip of frost is fatal to it. Ona
hour of frost on January 30 last year
almost destroyed the Neajiolitan crop*
and though many of the trees recov
ered enough strength to put forth
fresh leaves this year they had not the
strength to bear fruit, but by having
rested they will be ail the better next
year, so that the crop of 1907 may be
expected to reach a high level of
abundance and quality. Last year, too,
the fragrant lemon groves of the
French Riviera were •‘untimejy nipped
i’ th’ bud.” The valleys showed the
Mack and leafless skeletons of trees
that should have been in leaf anj blos
som and many of them, shriveled past
recovery, had to be uprooted.
1 The Neapolitan lemons are the fin-1
est of all and come when they are most
Wanted and other crops are over. But
artifice and not nature regulates their
maturity. In certain districts in Italy,
particularly in Majori, they are grown:
un estates which once belonged, and
some of which still belong, to the an
cient nobility of the land who in rest
less political times lived on their es
tates outside the city and cultivated
lemon groves as part of the elegancies
of their pleasure gardens,
j Here the trees are not allowed to
grow beyond six or seven feet in heightl
und the ripening of the fruit is artifi
I aially retarded by the trees being cov
ered with rushes supported on piles, so
that when they ought naturally to bo
ripe they are still immature, and the1
terraces where they grow are cool and
dark even in the sunny days of early
summer. But in May the rushes are
thrown aside and the sun pours down,
on the trees to ripen the fruit Just at’
the time when the English and Amer
ican summer demand is at its height.
Thus the Naples lemons escape the
dangers of a glut and fetch highest
prices when fresh lemons are most
wanted. _
When a Balloon Catches Cold.
I “Balloning is so fascinating that it is
almost impossible to bring oneself to come
down when one ought. One wishes al
ways to soar higher, to travel a few miles
farther, to take just another flight, bv
throwlng out the last bag of stand," says
j)r. Julian P. Thomas in an Interesting ar
ticle in Appleton's magazine for Novem
ber.
"Yet even with a large amount of bal
last one cannot always control the buoy
any of the balloon. On one occasion wo
were 10,000 feet up In the air In the hot sun
chine above the clouds. A cool current of
air struck us and condensed the gas in
the balloon, so that we fell into the clouds.1
There, out of the sun’s rays we cooled still
more, and fell more rapidly. 1 was throw
ing out ballast all this time, but without
stopping our descent. Indeed at one time
In our fall the sand I cast overbornd
seemed to move upward, at such a tre
mendous rate were we descending. From
• the clouds we fell into the cool breeze that
1 always blows over a forest-; and lastly we
I crossed a river, which added the finishing
| touch to the condensation of the gas in ihe
j balloon. We threw over oil the ballast,
the anchor and guide rope, our luncheon
1 and water, the camera, and all the clothes
we should not absolutely need on our ar
rival on the earth we were so rapidly ap
proaching. Nothing seemed to check the.
, rapidity of our fall, and when finally we
struck in the midst of a forest our lees
, were doubled up under us In spite of the
protection afforded us by the basket. I
should have had to throw my brother
overboard, too, to have kept in the air. and
Indeed he had to get out of the basket
after we had somewhat recovered from
the shock of our alighting—before the bal
loon would rise so that we could steer it to
a suitable place for deflating it. Fully
one-third of the gas was lost, or rather it
| was condensed to two-thirds its former
' volume.”
Not Honorable Enough.
I Lady Walrond, the wife of General Sir
I William Walrond, M. F.. described at a.
^ dinner party in Boston the l.te of a maid
of honor.
•'One of my friends,” she said, "was a
; maid of honor to Queen Victoria. She
j spent a part of each winter at San Retno.
I where I have a villa, and one January
afternoon at the Sports club, as we were
taking tea under an orange tree, a gentle
man said to nor:
“ 'How Interesting your life at court
must be. And what a delightful diary you
must be able to keep.’
•' No,’ said the maid of honor, ‘that Is
impossible. The queen makes it a condi
: lion that we keep no dairies while at
I court.’
” ’Ah,' said the gentleman, laughing, 'tj
think 1 should keep a very secret one, all;
I the same.'
’• ’Then,' said my friend, with a grave.
' smile, ‘I am afraid you would not be a.
maid of honor.’ ”
A Quick Explanation.
An alienist came wandering through an!
insane asylum’s wards one day. He came,
upon a man who sat in a brown study on,
a bench.
“How do you do, sir?” said the alienst.)
“What is your name, may I ask?”
"My name?” said the other, frowning
fiercely. "Why, Czar Nicholas, of course.”
“Indeed;'” said the alienst. “Yet the!
last time I was here you were the em
peror of Germany."
“Yes, of course,” said the other, quick-)
ly; “but that was by my first wife.”
Genuine
Carter’s
Little Liver Pills.
Must Gear Signature of
See Fac-S!milo Wrapper Below.
Very szuall «ml as outrjr
to talus as sugar*
lr ABTCtfol701*KEADACHE
html thh ran dizziness.
Ed? FOii B1U0U5HESS.
’ » FOR TORPID LIVER,
q FOR GGHST6PATI3K.
* FOR SALLOW SKIS.
_IFOR THEGOEVSPLEXISil
. CJSUSSUZJVZS MUST HAVE SyOWATURt.
SB Cants I "'aroly YegctaSlOv^s^*^'*”’*^
———-5snsKTEaramK*3
CURE SICK HEADACHE.
W- L. DOUGLAS
$3a50&$3.00 Shoes
BEST IN THE WORLD
W.LDouglas $4 Gilt Edge line^
cannotbeequalledatanyprlce/
To Shoe Dealers:
W. L. Douglas' Job
bing House is the most
complete in this country
_Send for Catalog
I
SHOES FOR EVERYBODY AT ALL PRICES.
Men’s Shoes, $5 to $1.50. Boys' Shoes. $3
to$1.25. Women’s Shoes, $4.00 to $1.50.
Misso3’ & Children’s Shoes, $2.25 to $1.00.
Try VV. D. Douglas Women’s, Misses and
Children’s shoes: for style, tit and near
they excel other makes.
If I could take you into my large
factories at Brockton, Mass.,and show
you how carefully W.L. Douglas shoes
are made, you would then understand
why they hold their shape, fit better,
wear longer, and are of greater value
than any other make.
Wherever you live, you can obtain W. L.
Douglas shoes. His name anil price is stamped
on the bottom, which protects you against high
prices and interior shoes. Take no substi*
tute. Ask your dealer for VV. L. Douglas shoei
and insist upon having them.
Fast Color Eyelets useu; ihcy will not wear brassy.
W rite for Illustrated Catalog of Fall Styles.
W. L. DOUGLAS, Dept. 14, Brockton, Mass*
When you buy
WET
WEATHER
CLOTH! NO
you want
complete
protection
and long
service.
These and many
other good points
are combined In
TOWER'S
FISH BRAND
OILED CLOTHING
"lou cant afford '.
to biy any other /
iwnf,
| I
'ijneAA.to
»jTOWt«5 CO BOJTON USA.
TCwU CANADIAN CO lt,
!,,!“fIl=t’“Jtiompson,sEyeWatei