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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (March 12, 1908)
__THE__ Story of Francis Cludde A Romance of Queen Mary's Reign. BY STANLEY J. WEYMAN. "Do you mean it, my friend?" I sale and I played my point about his leg half minded to give him a little pro by way of earnest. “Make up you mind." "Yes!" he shrieked out, suspectln my purpose and bouncing about in hi saddle like a parched pea. "Yes, I say! he roared. "Do you hear me? You g your way, and I will go mine.” "That Is a bargain," I said quietly "and mind you keep to It.” I put up my sword with my fac< turned from him. lest he should see th< curl of my lip and the light in my eyes In truth, I was uncommonly wel pleased with myself and was thlnkln; that If I came through all my advent urea as well I should do merrily. Out wardly, however, I tried to Ignore mj victory and to make things as easy a.' I could for my friend—If one may cal a man who will not fight him a friend a thing I doubt. "Which way are yot going?" I asked amicably—"to Strat ford 7" He nodded, for he was too sulky tc ■peak. “Ail right!" I said cheerfully, feel ing that my dignity could take care of itself now. "Then so far we may go together. Only do you remembei the termll. After dinner each goes his own way.” Ho nodded again, and we turned and went on in silence, eyeing one another askance, like two ill matched dogs coupled together. But luckily out forced companionship did not last long a quarter of a mile and a bend In the road -bringing us to the first low, gray houses of Stratford. A long, straggling village it seemed, made up of inns strewn along the road, like beads threaded, on a rosary. And, to be sure, to complete the likeness, we came pres ently upon an ancient stone cross standing on the green. I pulled up In front ot this with a sigh of pleasure, for on either side of it, one facing the other, was an inn of the better class. "Well,” I said, "which ahull It bf— the Rose and Crown, or the Crown without the rose?” "Choose for yourself,", he answered churlishly. "I go to the other." "I shrugged my shoulders. After all, you canjjot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, and if a man has not courage he Is not likely to have good fellow ship. But the words angered me nev ertheless, for a shabby, hulking fellow lounging at my elbow overheard them and grinned. A hiccoughing, blear eyed man he was as I had ever met, with a red nose and the rags of a tat tered cassock about him. I turned away In annoyance and chose the Crown at hazard, and pushing my way through the knot of horses that stood tethered at the door went in, leaving the two to their devices. I found a roaring fire In the great room and three or four yeoman stand ing about it, drinking ale. But I was hot from walking, so after saluting them and ordering my meal I went and sat for choice on a bench by the win dow away from the fire. The window was one of a kind common in War wickshire houses, long and low and beetle browed, the story above propect Ing over it. I sat there a minute look ing idly out at the inn opposite, a heavy stone building with a walled courtyard attached to It, such an inn as was common enough about the time of the wars of the roses, when wayfarers looked rather for safety than comfort. Presently I saw a boy come out of It And start up the road at a run. Then. a minute later, the ragged fellow I hud seen on the green came out and lurched Across the road. He seemed to be mak ing, though uncertainty, for my inn, And. sure enough, just as my bread and bacon—the latter hot and hissing— were put before me, he staggered into the roojn, bringing a strong smell of Ale and onions with him. "Pax vobis «um!" he said, leering at me with tipsy solemnity. I guessed what he was—a monk, one t>T those unfortunates still to be found here and there up and down the coun try, whom King Henry, when he put down the monasteries, tiad made home less. I did not look on the class with much favor, thinking that for most of them the cloister, even if the queen sueeed in getting the abbeys on their legs again, would have few attractions. But I sayv that the simple farmers re ceived hia scrap of Latin with respect, and I nodded civilly as I went on with my meat I was not to get on so easily How ever. He came and planted hlmsell opposite, to me. V “Pav.'voblscum my son," he repent ed. "The ale Is cheap here and good." "So Is the ham, good father," 1 re plied cheerfully, not pausing In my at tack on the victuals. "1 will answei for siv much." “Well, well," the knave replied, wltt ready wit, "I breakfasted early. I air content. Landlord, another plate and r full tankard. The young gentlemat would huve me dine with him." 1 could not tell whether to be angry or to laugh at his Impudence. "The gentleman snys he will answei for It!” repeated the rascal, with t twinkle in his eye, as the landlord hes Hated. He was by no means so dtunl as he looked. "No, no. father,” I cried. Joining li the general laugh Into which the farm era by the fire broke. "A cup of ale l In reasSii, and for that I will pay, bu for no more. Drink It and wish me god speed." “I will do more than that, lad," h answered. Swaying to and fro my cuy which he had seized In his grasp, h laid his hand on the window ledge be .side me, as though to steady hlmsel and stcoped until his coarse, puffy fac was hut a few inches from mine. "Mot than that," he whispered hoarsely, an hit. eyes, peering Into mine, were no f sober and full of meaning. "If you d fc not want to be put In the stocks c ■worse, make tracks! Make track lad!" he. continued. ‘ Your friend ov< there—he Is a niggardly oaf—has sei for the hundredman and the constabl and you are the quarry. So the wot Is. Qo! That," he added aloud, standtn erect again, with a drunken smile, “ for your cup of ale, and good coin top fs: For half a minute I sat quite stl taken aback and wondering, while tl bacon cooled on the plate before in what I was to do. I did not doubt tl monk was telling the truth. W'l should he lie to me? And 1 cursed n folly in trusting to a coward’s hon or a serving man’s good faith, n lamentations were useless. What w: j I to do? I had no horse and no inca of getting one. I was in a at run I; country,’'and to try to escape on fo from pursuers who knew th- roa and had,.the law on their side, wou f be a hopeless undertaking. Vet to hauled hack to Coton End a prisoner I could Gbt face that. Mechanically if raised a^morsel of bacon to my li| and as I did so a thought occurred me—an "idea suggested by som" tc I had heard the evening before at T we.-oe.tel. i: '■" gmtl* .. m. , | Fanciful as the plan was, I snatcher . at it, and knowing each instant to be 1 precious took my courge in my hand— r and my tankard. "Here.” I cried, ! speaking suddenly and loudly, "here is t bad luck to purveyors. Master Host!” J l There were a couple of stablemen within hearing, lounging in the door ’ way. besides the landlord and his wife and th'> farmers. • A villager or two also had dropped In. and there were two peddlers lying ' | half asleep in the corner. All these ' | pricked up their cars more or less at my words. But, like most country folk, they were slow to take In anything new or unexpected, and I had to drink afresh and say again, “Here is bad luck to purveyors!" before any one took It up. Thm the landlord showed he under stood. "Aye. so say I!” he cried, with an oath. “Purveyors, indeed! It is such as they give the queen a had name.” “God bless her!" quoth the monk loyuliy. “And drown the purveyors!” a farm er exclaimed. "They were here a year ago and left us as bare as a shorn sheep,” struck In a strapping villager, speaking at a white heat, but telling me no news, for this was what I had heard at Towces ter the night before. "The queen should lie warm if she uses all the wool they took. And the pack horses they pur-1 veyed to carry off the plunder—why, the packmen avoid Stratford ever since as though we had the black death. Oh, down with the purveyors, suy I! The first that comes this way I will show the bottom of the Ouse. Aye, that I will, though I hang for it!” “Easy, easy, Tom Miller!” the host Interposed, affecting an air of assur ance, even while he cast an eye of trou ble at his flitches. "It will be another ten years before they harry us again. There is Potter's Pury! They never took a tester’s worth from Potter’s Pury! No, nor from Preston Gobion! But they will go to them next, depend upon It!” "I hope they will," I said, with a world of gloomy insinuation in my words. “But I doubt it!” And this time my hint was not wast ed. The landlord changed color. “What are you driving at, master?” he asked mildly, while the others looked at me In silence and waited for more. “What if there be one across the road now?" I said, giving way to the temp tation and speaking falsely—for which I paid dearly afterward. “A purveyor, I mean, unless I am mistaken in him, or he tells lies. He has come straight from the chancellor, white w'and, war rant and all. He Is taking his dinner now, hut he has sent for the hundred man, so I guess he means business.” "For the hundredman?” repeated the landlord, his brows meeting. "Yes, unless I am mistaken." There was silence for a moment. Then the man they called Tom Miller dashed his cap on the floor, and folding his arms defiantly looked round on his neighbors. "He has come, has he!" he roared, his face swollen, ills eyes blood shot. "Then I will be as good as my word! Who will help? Shall we sit down and be shorn like sheep, as we were before, so that our children lay on the bare stone*, and we pulled the plow ourselves? Or shall we show that we are free Englishman and not slaves of Frenchmen? Shall we teach Master Purveyor not to trouble us again? Now, what say you neighbors?" So fierce a growl of impatience and an ger rose round me as at once answered the question. A dozen red faces glared at me and at one another, and from the very motion and passion of the men as they snarled and threatened the room seemed twice as full as it was. Their oaths and cries of encouragement, not loud, but the more dangerous for that, the fresh hurst of fury which rose as the village smith and another came In and learned the news, the menacing gestures of a score of brandished fists— these sights, though they told of the very effect at which I had aimed, scared as well as pleased me. I turned red and white and hesitated, fearing ’hat I had gone too far. The thing was done, however, and, what was more, I had soon to take care of myself. At the very moment when the hubbub was at its loudest I felt a chill run down my back as I met the monk’s eye, and, reading In it whim sical admiration, read In it something besides, and that was an unmistakable menace. “Clever lad!” the eye said. I had forgotten him—or, at any rate, that my acting would he transparent enough to him holding the clew in his hand—and his look was like the shock of cold water to me. But it is wonder ful how keen the wtta grow on the grindstone of necessity. With scarcely a second’s hesitation I drew out my long piece of gold, and unnoticed by the other men, who were busy swear ing at and encouraging one another, I disclosed a morsel of it. The monk's . crafty eyes glistened. I laid my Anger pn my lips. He held up two Angers. ■ I shook my head and showed an empty palm. I had no more. He nodded, , and the relief that nod gave me was . great. Before I had time, however, i to consider the narrowness of my es t cape a movement of the crowd—for the . news had spread with great swiftness, and there was now a crowd assembled > which more than Ailed the room—pro ’ claimed the purveyor had come out and j was in the street. I The room was nearly emptied at a rush. Though I prudently remained 3 behind, I could, through the open wln b do, hear as well as see what passed. 3 The leading spirits had naturally strug v gled out Arst and were gathered, sullen o and full of dangerous possibilities, r about the porch. I suppose the bishop's messenger saw r in them nothing but a crowd of coun t try clowns, for he came hectoring ?, toward the door, smiting his boot with d his whip and puffing out his red cheeks g mightily. He felt brave enough, now is that he had dined and had at his back three stout constables sworn to keep 1, the queen's peace. ie "Make way! Make way there! Do e, you hear?" he cried In a husky, pomp ,0 ous voice. "Make way!" he repeated, y | lightly touching the nearest man with iy | his switch. "I am on the queen’s ser >r '• vice, boobies, and must not be hin 3t dered.” is The man swore at him. but did not ns budge, and the bully, brought up thus j.. . shrrply, awoke to the lowering faces at ' anil threatening looks which confronted 3s ; him. He changed color a little. But Id the ale was still in him. and forgetting Lie , his natural discretion he thought to — carry matters with a high hand. 11 "Come, come," he exclaimed angrily is. i "l have a warrant, and you resist m< to | at your peril, l have to eater this Ik ■ house. Clear the way. MaRter Hun o- ; dredman, and break these fellows l heads if they withstand you." A growl as of a dozen bulldogs an swered him. and he drew back as a child might who has trodden on an adder. "You fools!” he spluttered, glaring at them viciously. ”Are you mad? Do you know what you are do ing? Do you see this?” He whipped out from some pocket a 3hort white staff and brandished It. "1 come direct from the lord chancellor and upon his busi ness. Do you hear? And if you resist me it is treason. Treason, you dogs!” he cried, his rage getting the better of him, "and like dogs you will hang for It. Master Hundredman, I order you to take In your constables and arrest that man!” "What man?" quoth Tom Miller, eye ing him fixedly. “The stranger who came in an hour ago and is inside the house.” "Him, he means, who told about the purveyor across the road,” explained the monk, with a wink. That wink sufficed. There was a roar of execration.and In the twinkling of an eye the Jack in office, tripped up this way and shoved that, was struggling helplessly in the grasp of half a dozen men, who fought savagely for his body with the hundredman and the con stables. “To the river! To the Ouse with him! yelled the mob. “In the queen’s name!” shouted the officers. But these were to those as three to a score and taken by surprise besides and doubtful of the rights of the matter. Yet, for an Instant, as the crowd went reeling and fighting down the road, they pre vailed, the constables managed to drag their leader free, and I caught a glimpse of him, wild eyed and frantic with fear, his clothes torn from his back, standing at bay ilke some ani mal and brandishing his staff in one hand, a packet of letters in the other. ”1 have letters, letters of state!” he screamed shrilly. “Let me alone, I tell you! Let me go. you curs!” But in vain. The next Instant the mob were upon him again. The packet of letters went one way. the staff was dashed another. He was thrown down and plucked up again and hurried bruised and struggling. toward the river, his screams for mercy and furious threats rising shrilly above the oaths and laughter. I felt myself growing pale as scream followed scream. "They will kill him!" I exclaimed, trembling, and JDrepajred to follow. "I cannot see this done." But the monk, who had returned to my side, grasped my arm. “Don’t be a fool,” he said sharply. “I will answer for it, they will not kill him. Tom Mil ler is not a fool, though he Is angry. He will duck him and let him go. But I will trouble you for that bit of gold young gentleman.” I gave It to him. "Now,” he continued with a leeer “I will give you a hint in return. If you are wise, you will be out of this coun try in 12 hours. Tethered to the gate over there is a good horse, which be- | longs to a certain purveyor now in the river. Take It! There is no one to say you nay. And begone!” I looked hard at him for a minute, my heart beating fast. This was horse stealing, and horse stealing was a hang ing matter. But I had done so much already I felt I might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb. I was not sure that I had not incited to treason, and What was stealing a horse beside that? I will do it,” I said desper ately. “Don’t lose time, then ” mmih mentor. I went out then and there and found he hail told the truth. Every soul in the place had gone to see the ducking, and the street was empty. Kicked aside in the roadway lay the bundle of letters, soiled, but not torn and in the gutter was the staff. I stooped and picked up one and the other—in for a Iamb, in for a sheep, and the- might be useful some day. Then I Jumped into the saddle and twitched the reins off the hook. But before I could drive in the spurs a hand fell on the bridle, and the monk’s face appeared at my knee. •’Well’” I said, glaring down at him. I was burning to be away. "That Is a good cloak you have got there,” he muttered hurriedly. "There, strapped to the saddle, you fool' You do not want that. Give it me. Do you hear? Quick, give it me!” he cried raising his voice and clutching at it fiercely, hfs face dark with greed and fear. "I see.” I replied as I unstrapped It. ‘I am to steai the horse that you mfcy get the cloak. And then you will lay the lot on my shoulders Well, take It!” I cried, "and go your way as fast as you can." Throwing it at him as hard as I could I shook up the reins and went off down the road at a gallop. The wind whistled pleasantly past my ears. The sounds of the town grew faint and distant. Each bound of the good hack carried me farther and farther from present danger, farther and farther from the old life. In the exhilaration and excitement of the moment I for got my condition, forgot that I had not a penny piece in my pocket, and that I bad left an unpaid bill behind me. forgot even that I rode a—well, a bor rowed horse. (Continued Next Week.) One on the Laird. From the Pittsburg Dispatch. "Andrew Carnegie,” said a Pittsburg millionaire, "enjoys a Joke hugely. One of his Jokes made me laugh on my last visit to Skibo castle. Mr. Carnegie was entertaining at the time a Montenegrin prince. The morn ing after the prince's arrival we set out in a huge motor car for a long run, and as we whizzed past an inn a great crowd of highlanders rose from the benches before the inn and saluted us. The prince seemed amazed at the highland dress. “ ’Why,’ he asked, ‘do these men go bare legged?’ “ ’It Is a local custom,’ said Mr. Car negie: 'a mark of respect for you, sir. In some places people take off their hats to show' honor to distinguished visitors; here they take oft their trous ers.” He Knew Tommy Wanted More Holi day. Mrs. E. Z. Marke—Doctor, what alls Tommy ? Doctor Wise—He Is suffering from esvacatlonitie. Mrs. E. Z. Marke—What's that? Doctor Wise—School opens on Mon day. Books were the things Stella liked. Novels, some people call them. But Scott and Dickens and Hugo were fa vorites with her and as she sat by the sea she read, paying no attention to the waves as they raced up the beach and fell back with the moan that means they have gone as far as they can. When the tide was low Stella could see a rock far out to sea, and one day she followed the waves as they re ceded from the shore and found the ! rock high and dry from the flood. And I she rested there, climbing to a seat above the sands and out of the rays of the sun. Back to the hotel was Stellas aunt. Miss Peckham, taking a siesta at this hour, believing her brother's daughter was reading on the bench under the tree whose branches were twisted by the western gales. When the sun burned Its way Into the western sky Miss Peckham was dressed for her af ternoon stroll, expecting to take the ro mantic girl along In the unromantlc walk. But the seat under the tree was emp dashed toward the waves, pulling off his coat as he ran. About him the wa tre splashed until he sunk before the oncoming tide and swam toward the rock. Someone thrust a pair of bin oculars into the trembling hands of Miss Peckham and she mechanically raised them to her eyes. Through them she saw her niece—reading and sitting in the niche of the rock with the wa ter nearly at her feet and all the sand covered. How deep Miss Peckham did not know. From the gathering crowd there went a shout when the rescuer reached deep water and swam, first with his head to the right and then to the left. "Who is he?” Some one asked the question. “A waiter at the hotel.” That was the an swer. But in that man was the true blood of a hero. ' Brinkley," they said, and others added, "Archibald.” Suddenly Stella was brought to a realization of her position. Over her feet the salt water washed and she drew them hurriedly beneath her gown and called to the shore for help; While she had read the tide had turned and was racing back as it had raced to "quick.!* SA voice cLo^e BSSIfrS $T£LLA. ■f—on ty. Miss Peckham looked about, glanc ing through her gold-rlmmed spectacles up and down the sand of the beach. Then the flutter of a white dress caught here eyes, a flutter that was a long way off and from the rock that was lost to view during the higli tides. Miss Peck ham had seen that rock before and knew the fate of one caught there. Quick as a flash there came the picture of hei brother as he sat in his office in Chicago and of his blanched face as he would read her telegram, and the worst was before her. On the beach trooped the children and the women in white caps and aprons— the nurses and governesses. It made little difference to Miss Peckham then, though she would have hesitated a long time before calling on them for help on an ordinary occasion. About her half a dozen nurses gathered, and oth ers seeing something out of the usual going on came tiptolng up with their charges. All saw the white dress and all knew that by high tide there would be nothing left but a memory of the girl who read. Strolling along came a party of young men and to t his group ran one of the women, her white bows dancing above her hear as she ran. There was a halting of the youths and a look to seaward. Fluttering in the wind that fanned around the rock was the white dress. There was a parting of the crowd and from the farthest side a young man The Reward of Politeness. President Harahan. of tile Illinois Central, at a dinner in New York com pared foreign with home railroads. "And another thing," he said, “our railway servants are more courteous than foreign ones. Foreign porters and ticket sellers are a crusty lot. “An American and a Briton were once riding up to London in a first class carriage. The American at a cer tain station leaned out and said to the porter on the plutform: “•What station Is this, brother?' " 'Birmingham, of course,' said th« porter in a surly tone. 'Can't you see the name posted up?' “The American after drawing in hi! head, said to the Englishman: “ ‘Now, that was a piece of discour tesy you wouldn't meet with in Amer ica. An American porter would have aneewered me with polished politeness. “The Englishman smiled. " 'Ah, but It was your own fault, tha> rebuff,’ he said. ’Pardon me for men Honing It, but your manner was to< bluff, too rough-and-ready. The portei took you for a— er—a bounder. Now at the next station I will myself ask i porVer some question, and I’ll ask it it the gracious, condescending way we di such things over here. I warrant yoi I'll receive the most courteous of an swers.' “ 'All right.' said the American short jy, a little hurt at having been mis | taken for a bounder. | "Well, at the next station the car rlage drew up near a porter, and th 1 Englishlngman—he was a typical, ro tund, rosy old John Bull—put his hea I out of the window, showed all his fals teeth in a glittering smile, and purred •• 'Porter, would you kindly tell m 1 the name of this station?' sea. Neither did she see the rescuer as he battled with these same waves and she thought she was abandoned to her fate. Hugo’s "Tollers of the Sea” came to Stella's mind, and she thought of the poor fellow who died on the rock in the very sight of the woman he loved. That, she know, might be her fate, too, only she had loved no one and no one was sailing by. She glanced at the pages before her as they rattled In the breeze. But this was the work of Scott and not of Hugo. “Quick,” said a voice close beside Stella. The girl peered down Into the face of the mart who waited upon her at the table. “I have come to try and get you to the shore before the tide turns,” he said. "Can you swim?” "I cannot—but X can try.” And they tried. Miss Peckham hurried the wet girl to the hotel and dried the hair and gave her niece dry clothes. She forgot the rescuer and did not even mention him by name to her brother In the letter she wrote that night. But Stella remem bered. At breakfast she saw him. M'hen he called on her in Chicago he explained. Archibald Brinkley was not his name, hut when Stella met him he was paying his hoard at the hotel by watting or the table. His real name was Frank Simmons and he was study ing law. Now Frank Simmons is a partner of Mr. Peckham and his wife Is Stella. “The porter glanced up, and then as he slouched off called back over his shoulder: " 'Ah, shut tha trap, tha bacon-faced old buffer! Put tha daft fat head in before I knock it off for thee.' " Johnny Objected. “ 'Big Florrie’ Sullivan,” said a New York detective, "will be missed here, now that his health has goue back on him. But let us hope that he'll soon be restored to us. alert as ever to fight against the cadet and other evils. Thank you, 1 will have one more, but make it short, please." "Florrie Sullivan had many ar. ad venture In the New York slums. Some of his adventures were dramatic, tragi cal; some were the reverse. “Passing a mean little shanty In a horrible district one Sunday morning Sullivan heard a loud yell: | “ 'Murder! Murder! Help!' I “In his brave, generous way, never stopping to count the cost, h# ran at i full speed toward -,.e sound. 'An old loan's voice,' he muttered to himself, and then he shouted as he ran: "Ha\e no fear; Courage! X will assist i you.' i “Murder!" shrieked the voice again, i “Sullivan rc ,ched the door and thun dered on it with tists and feet. It opened and a neat young woman ap . peared. “ 'What is the trouble that-' the mar. panted, but the young woman, . smiling quietl. interrupted him. 3 " Oh, never mind at all, at all,’ she - ! said. ’Shure, an' thy’r’ only puttin' a 1 j elane shirt on ou ! Johnny.’ " | The fellow wiio claims that he Is t'red i of the world duesu't stop to consider trgi I the world limy also be tired of him. infantile Politeness. Philadelphia Ledger: Tommy had been invited to dine at a learned pro fessor's house, and his mother was anx ious for his good behavior at table. She gave him elaborate instructions. "Well. Tommy, how did you get on?” she asked on his return. ' You are quite sure you didn't do anything im polite?" “Well, no, ma—at least nothing to speak of.” The mother's anxiety was aroused. "Ah, then, there was something wrong? Now, tell me all about it. Tommy." "Oh, it wasn't much. You see, l was trying to cut my meat when it slipped off the plate on to the floor.” "Oh, my dear boy; whatever did you do?” “I just said, sort of carelessly, "That’s always the way with tough meat,” and went on with my dinner!” i m Russian Contempt for Women. New York Tribune: Russians are misognylsts. They regard women as scarcely superior In intelligence to chil dren. Their proverbs prove this. At a recent wedding an aged priest said to the bridegroom: "Remember the proverb, lad —'to love your wife with all your heart, but now and then to shake her like a plum tree.’ " A Russian, speaking about his wife to a friend said: "The trouble with me is that I don't obey the proverb. ‘Al ways beat your wife once before dinner and twice after supper.’ ” A banker failed in business’ in Moscow and his wife re proached him. even threatening to leavs him. “A dog has more sense than a woman!” he shouted at her. "Yes,” he continued, "the proverb is right: a dog has more sense than a woman, for It never growls at its master." A WELL "MAN AT 81. The Interesting Experience of an Old Seltler of Virginia. Daniel S. Queen, Burrell Street, Sa lem, Va.. says: "Years ago while lifting a heavy weight, a sudden pain shot through my hack and after that I was in constant misery from kidney trouble. One spell kept me in bed six weeks My arms and legs were stiff and I was help less as a child. The urine was disordered and though I used one remedy nfter another, I was not helped until 1 used Doan's Kidney Pills s and I was so bad then that the first box made only a slight change. To day, however. I am a wet! man, at 81, ami 1 owe my life and health to the use of Doan’s Kidney Pills.” Sold by all dealers. 00 cents a box. Foster-Milburn Co.. Buffalo. N. Y. The Schoolboy Brain. One of the most substantial and genu ine of delights for those of humorous appreciation consists in a study of the answers made by schoolgirls and school boys in examination papers. A writer in the current Harper's Weekly has collected a new batch of these, of which the following specimens are among the most choice: • Blood consists of two sorts of cork screws—red corkscrews and white corkscrews." Asked to explain what a buttress Is. one boy replied: "A woman who makes butter." One pupil defined primate as “the wife of a prime minister." Gravity was discovered by Isaao Walton. It is chiefly noticeable in the autumn, when the apples are falling from the trees.” To the question, “What is a limited monarchy?” this answer was returned: "A limited monarchy ts government by a king who, in case of bankruptcy, would not be responsible for the entire national debt. You have the same thing in private life in limited liability companies.” Women Growin® Younger. New York World: «o woman need now regard herself as passe at fifty. Ripened charms should then be at their meridian. Society, so far from relegating her to the background, ignores the flight of years in a belle of past conquests. In the words of a competent London ob server "there has been a complete dis appearance of the middie-aged woman. The social world seems now to be mada up of girls, young married women and old ladles who are great-grandmothers. Every one Is fresh and no one lias wrin kles. Every one has bright eyes, a flower face and a slender form, and every on® is dressed to perfection, the same stylo suiting equally well the gill of 18 and h«r mother.” THE DOCTOR’S GIFT. Food Worth Ita Weight In Gold. We usually eipect the doctor to put us on some kind of penance and giro us bitter medicines. A Penn, doctor brought a patient something entirely different and the re sults are truly Interesting. “Two years ago,’’ writes this patient, “I was a frequent victim of acute indi gestion and biliousness, being allowed to eat very few things. One day our family doctor brought me a small pack age, saying he had found something for me to eat at last. "He said it was a food called Grape Xuts and even as its golden color might suggest, it was worth Its weight In gold. 1 was sick and tired, trying oue thing after another to no avail, but at last consented to try this new food. “Well! it surpassed my doctor's fond est anticipation and every day since then l have blessed the good doctor and the Inventor of Grape-Xuts. “1 noticed Improvement at once and In a month's time my former spells of Indigestion had disappeared, lu two months 1 felt like a new man. My brain was much clearer and keener, my body took ou the vitality of youth, and this condition has continued." “There’s a Iteason." Name given by Postum Co., Battle Creek, Mich. Bead V “The Itoad to WellvlUe,” lu pkg*.