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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (April 13, 1911)
How 8ea Birds Drink. Under the headline, Where Do They. Get Water? a writer In the Young Folks' Catholic Weekly says: “When I was a cabin boy I often used to wonder, seeing birds thousands of miles out to sea, what they did for fresh water when they were thirsty, One day a squall answered that ques tion for me. It was a hot and glitter ing day in the tropics, and In the clear ■ky overhead a black rain cloud ap peared all of a sudden. Then out of empty space over a hundred sea birds came darting front every direction. They got under the rain cloud, and waited there for about ten minutes, ■circling round and round, and when the rain began to fall they drank their HU. In the tropics, where the great sea birds sail thousands of miles away from shore, they got their drinking water In that way. They smell out a storm a long way off; they travel a hundred miles maybe to get under it, and they swallow enough raindrops to Yeep them going."—New York Trib une. Truly Wonderful Cat. A wonderful cat Is that owned by Mr. A. J. Gorrlnge, a tradesman of Ditching, England. Mr. Gorrlnge has It bantam which lays her eggs in dif ferent parts of the yard, but his cat never fails to find them. She takes the egg between her teeth, places It on the step, and rattles the door handle with her paws until her mis tress arrives to take in the egg. Not one of the eggs has yet been broken. Truth a Trouble Maker. A West Philadelphia man and his wife have separated. None of their friends know why, but one, being curi ous, asked the husband: “What was the trouble between you and your wife?” ^ “O, nothing much. Sho bought a new hat for $20 and asked me what I thought of it. And I told her. That's all." A man doesn't have to bo a detec tive In order to find fault. <—-*-N It Does The Heart Good To see how the little folks enjoy Post Toasties with cream Sweet, crisp bits of pearly white corn, rolled and toasted to an appetizing brown. “The Memory Lingers” POSn.'M CEREAL CO.. H,i„ Uaulo Creek, k’lch. V____ Half a Rogue I By HAROLD MAC GRATH Author of The Man on the Box, The Puppet Crown, Hearts and Mas,ks, Etc. } Copyright Bobbs-Mcrrill Co., Indianapolis. j CHAPTER H—(Continued.) "Always to be Identified as the actress? To be looked at curiously, to be annoyed by those who are not my equals, and only tolerated by those who are? No! I wan. a man who will pro tect me from al these things, who will help me to forget some needless follies and the memory that a hundred differ ent men have made play-love to me on the other side of the to -nights.” "Some men marry actresses to grati fy their vanity; does tills man love you ?” "Yes; and he will make me what heaven Intended I should be—a wom an. Oh, I have uttered no deceit. This man will take me for what I am." “And you have come here tonighfr to ask me to forget, too?” There was no bitterness In his tone, but there was a strong leaven of regret. "Well, I prom ise to forget." “It was not necessary to ask you that," generously. “But I thought I would come to you arid tell you every thing. I did not wish you to misjudge me. For the world will say that I urn marrying this good man for his money; whereas, If he was a man of the most moderate circumstances, I should still marry him.” “And who might this lucky n.an be? To win a woman, such as I know you to be, this man must have some extraor dinary attributes.” And all at once a sense of Infinite relief entered Into his heart; If she wero Indeed married, there would no longer be that tantalizing doubt on his part, that peculiar attrac tion which at one time resembled love and at another time was simply fas cination. She would pass out of his life definitely. He perfectly recognized the fact that he admired her above all oth er women he knew; but It was also ap parent that to see her day by day, year by year, his partner la the common places as well as In the heights, ro mance would become threadbare quick ly enough. “Who Is ho?” he repeated. “That I prefer not to disclose to you just yet. What are you going to call your new play?" with a wave of her hand toward the manuscript. . "I had Intended to call it ‘I-ove and Money.’ hut the very name presages failure." "Yes, It needs the cement of compati bility to keep the two together." “Well, from my heart I wish you nil the best luck In the world," he said, the absence of nriy mental reservation In his eyes. "You would make any man a good wife. If I weren't a born fool--” She leaned toward him, her face sud denly tense and eager. "—If I weren't a born fool," with a smile that was whimsical, "I’d have married you myself long ago. Tint fate cut me out for a bachelor.” He knock ed the ash from a cold pipe, filled and lighted It. She dropped Into his desk chair and propped her chin In her palms, view ing him through hulf-closed specula tive eyes. “We've had some Jolly larks togeth er," he said. "I shall miss you; how much I shall know only when you are gone. Is ho good-looking?" “Very. He is tall and straight, with a manly face, tine eyea, and a good nose. You know that I’m always par ticular about a man’s nose.” "And young, of course?” not without some feeling of jealousy. "And young.” "Tell me all about him,” drawing up a chair and facing her, "He is a lucky chap," ho summed up« when he had done. "That remains to be seen," lightly. "I may prove the worse wife possible. Perhaps, when I have burned my bridges, I shall ho mad for the very publicity I’m trying to escape. Women are like extinct volcanoes; they are most to be dreaded when written per fectly harmless.” Warrington shook his head and laughed. Here the coffee came In. He dismissed his man, and poured the nec tar himself. "You tire the one may I know who never asks to sweeten my coffee,’’ she observed. “And yet I bad to learn. You haven’t taught this other fellow yet, I see. Is he warranted housebroken, or will he have to be chained?” “He will not have to he chained; and a limn who Is a recluse seldom has to be broken In.” “A recluse? What’s his hobby; but terflies, stones, stamps or coins?—No, girl; I don’t mean that. I’m a little heavy tonight. Do you recollect the night you donned a suit of mine, bun dled your hair under a felt hat, and visited the studios? What a romp! Not a soul ever found out who you were; and If I hndn5t been In the secret, I shouldn’t have known, either. I shall never forget how funny Dolman looked when he started a certain popular story of his and you shut him up. ‘Gentle men, ' you said, ‘neither listen to, nor repeat that kind of a story In the presence of ladles.’ ‘Ladles?’ cried Dol man. ‘I see no ladles.’ 'But there are gentlemen,’ you added quickly. Later, Dolman advised me not to brine any more of my {Sunday school friends to bis studio." The woman smiled, but the smile was only on the lips. The valet appeared deferentially. "Well?" said Warrington. "A gentleman to see you, sir. He said he wouldn’t need any card. Mr. John Bennington, sir.” "John Bennington!" Warrangton sprang from his chair, his face joy ous. "Old John here tonight! The fin est chap on earth, Kate: my roommate at college, and the only chap In my town who was mv friend when I was a nobodv. Old John ..." “Richard, you must hide me quickly. I mustn't be seen here." j "Good Lord!” He did not notice her pallor. "Tho butler’s pantry,” he said hastily. She slipped out of sight noiselessly. CHAPTER XXI. Bennington was a chum or Warring ton’s for years, was handsome, and, but for his father’s blood, the ‘Idle ness of his forebears would have marked him with effeminateness. His head, has face, the shape of his hands and feet, these proclaimed the aristo crat. “I’m mighty glad to see you, boy," said Warrington, dropping his arms. “You haven’t changed a bit.” "Nor you, Dick; if anything you look younger." "How many years is it, John?" “Bix or seven: not very long.” "Time never seems long to a man who never has to wait for anything. I have had to reckon time with hours 1 full of suspense, and those hours have : aged me; perhaps not outwardly, but [ all the same, I'm an old man, John." "Nonsense!" "When did you cross?" ! “About a year ago. when father died. ] I had given up the English end of the ■ oncern two years before, and was just wandering uboui the continent. I was dreadfully disappointed when I learned that you had visited the shops In '98. That summer I was In Switzerland. I had no Idea there was going to be war, and never saw a newspapers till It was nearly over. I should have enlisted. And another year we passed within two days of each other." "Nol” Bennington exclaimed. "Yes. It was In Italy at Sorrento, that I learned of your nearness. You were off for Amain and I had Just come from there. For three days I ran across your name In the hotel regis ters.” Bennington looked about leisurely as Warrington departed from the room to obtain whisky and soda, it was Just the kind of room he had always im agined; it was like the man who occu pied it. Simplicity and taste abounded; tlie artist and the collector, the poet and the musician, were everywhere In evidence. He strolled over to the man tel and took down one of the pictures signed "Kate.” He smiled. It was not an Indulgent smile, nor the smile of a man who has stumbled upon another man's secret. The. smile was rather ex ultant. He leaned against the mantel and studied the lace in its varied ex pressions. He nodded approvingly. It was a lovely face; it was more than lovely,—It was tender and strong Pres ently he returned to his chair and sat down, the photograph still In his hand. And In this position Warrington found him. “Ah, you sly dog!” he hailed, setting down the glasses and pouring out a liberal bumper. "So I’ve caught you? Well, you’re not the only man who has been conquered by that very photo graph." He had half a notion to go In and bring her out; but then, women are such finicky things! Bennington laid aside the photo graph, a certain reverence in his ac that in ordinary times would not have escaped Warrington’s notlco. "What’s this to he?" asked Benning ton, lifting his glass and stirring the lee. “Imincr und immer, as the German has it," Warrington replied. "For ever and ever, then!" And the two lightly touched glasses, with that peculiar gravity which al ways accompanies such occasions. "When a man drinks your health in bad whisky, look out for him; but tills whisky Is very good, Dick." Bennlng ton set down his glass and wiped his lips. "It Is very good, indeed.” "Well, how are things up in Hercu laneum?” asked Warrington. "You know, or ought to know, that I get up there only once a year." "Things are not very well. There’s the devil to pay In politics, and some day I may hayo a Jolly long strike on my hands,” grimly. "But I shall know exactly what to do. That man McQuade owns about all tho town now. He con trols congressmen, state senators and assemblymen, and the majority of the common council is his, body and soul." "Why don’t you men wake up and oust McQuade? I’ll tell you right here, Jack, you have no one to blame but yourself." "Do you know what they call me up there?” Bennington laughed. "I confess to Ignorance.” "Well, .the newspapers say covertly that I’m all but a naturalized English man, a snob, when I’m only a recluse, a man who dresses every night for dinner, who dines Instead of eats. There are some things It is Impossible to understand, and one Is the interest the newspapers take In the private af fairs of men.” "I cap explain all that, my boy.’ Buy your clothes of the local tailors; get rid of your valet; forget that you have lived in England. They’ll come around to you, then. You may talk as much ns you like about the friendliness be tween the Englishman and the Amer ican. rt Is simply a case of two mas ters who are determined that their dogs shall be friendly. Let the masters drop out of sight for a moment, and you will find the dogs at each other’s throat. And the masters? The dollar on this side and the sovereign on the other. There Is a good deal of friend ship these days that is based upon JVi per ce,nt. Get Into politics, my boy." They lighted cigars, and Bennington took up the photograph again. "A lovely face," was his comment. "With a heart and a mind even more lovely,” supplemented Warrington. “My word for It, she may have equnls, but she has no superiors on this side of the ocean.” Bennington looked up sharply. "Nothing serious?” he asked gently. "Serious7 No. Wo are capital friends but nothing more. Ah, boy, you should see her act!” ”1 have I saw her in London last season. She wa9 playing your ’War of Women.’ She appeared to me enchant ing. But about these actresses * *’’ "I know, I know,” Interrupted War rington. "Some of them are bad. but some of them are the noblest creatures God ever put on earth; and yonder Is one of them. I remember. We were more like two men. Without her help I shouldn’t be where I am today. X al ways read the scenario of a play to her first; and often we’ve worked togeth er half a night on ono scene. I shall inlss her.” "What! Is she going away?" "After a fashion. Sho has retired from the stage." "Do you believe she means It?" ask ed Bennington. “I think Miss ('hnlloner will never act again.” Bennington whs silent for a moment. Finally he said: “How does It feel to he famous, to have plays produced simultaneously In New York and Lon don?” “After the first success there is never anything but hard work. A failure once In a while acts like a tonic. And some times we get an anonymous letter that refreshes us—a real admirer, who writes from the heart and doesn’t fish for a letter or an autograph In return. I received one of these only a few days ago, and I want you to rend It." War rington produced the missive and tosed It Into Bennington’s hands. "Read that. It’s worth while to get a letter like that one.” Bennington took up the letter, stall ing at hts friend’s enthusiasm. A sin gle glance at the graceful script, how ever, changed his expression. He sat back and stared at Warrington. “What’s the matter?” Benntngton did not answer, but set tled down to his task, reading careful ly and slowly. He did not look for any signature, for he knew there would be none. He returned the letter, his face sober, but his eyes dancing. "Now. what the deuce do you sec that is so amusing?” “Oh, nothing.” “Don’t tell me there isn’t any ro mance in the world. But, hang it, Jack, I’m not worth a letter like that,” earn estly. “Of course not.” “I’m not jesting. I’ve sown wild oats and God knows what the harvest will be. There’s a law that exacts oay merit. Retribution is the cniy certain thing in this world." ' Oh. you’re no worse than the aver age man. But the average man is jolly bad," Bennington added gravely. "But you. Dick; I’m not worrying about you. Perhaps the writer of that letter sees good in you that you can’t see yourself; good that is in you but of which you are unconscious. One thing, you have never besmirched the talents God gave you. Everything you have done has been clean and wholesome—like your self." "I'wish I could believe that! But I’ve had no ties, Jack, none. You can’t keep to a course without a compass. The real good in life, the gcod that makes life worth while, is the toil for those you love. 1 love nobody, not even myself. But this girl rather woke me vp. I began to look Inward, as they say. So far I’ve not discovered much good. I’d give a good deal to meet this writer.” “Doubtless you will find her charm ing." Suddenly Warrington turned upon his friend. "But what I want to know Is, what brought you around here this time o’ night? I never knew you to do anything without a definite purpose.” "That’s precisely what I’ve been waiting for you to lead up to. The truth is-’’ Bennington hesitated. His hand, idly trailing over the desk, came into contact with something smooth and soft. It was a pair of white, kid gloves, a woman's. Absently he drew them through his hand. He was only half conscious of his action, and he did not observe Warrington’s sudden agi tation. “The truth is. I’ve gone and done it. I’m going to be married in June, and I want you to be my best man.” Warrington's hand went out impul sively. "Oh, I felt It In my bones when your card earne In," he said, re-arranging the glasses. “Ducky woman! Dong life to you, Jack, and long happiness!” “Thank you, Dick." (Ceremonial re currence of drinking a health.) “Now, out with it. Who is she, and all about her?” "Dick, I’m genuinely sorry, but I’m still under bond of silence.” “More mysteries!” cried Warrington, with evident discontent. "Only for a week, when, if you say, we’ll have breakfast here in these very rooms.’’ “Done. Only I must say you’re a bit hard on me tonight." “I’m sorry/’ “Dot me see; I’ll describe her for you. Beautiful, accomplished, an American.” “Right you are. Why don’t you get married yourself?” “Bah! No, Jack, I doubt if I shall ever be lucky enough to find the one woman. I’ve been so busy that I've never had time to hunt for happiness." Bennington wandered about, from object to object. Here he picked up a dagger, there a turquoise in the matrix, and again some inlaid wood from Sor rento. From these his interest traveled to and lingered over some celebrated autographs. “Happiness is a peculiar thing,” went on the dramatist. "Is it far less dis tinctive than fame or fortune. They sometimes knock at your door, but happiness steals in without warning, and often leaves as mysteriously as it comes.” Bennington's cigar had gone out. Ho leaned upon the desk and took his light from the chimney. “Can’t you bunk here for the night? There’s plenty of room," said War rington. “Impossible, Dick. I leave at mid night for home. I must be there to morrow morning. I’m afraid of trouble in the shops. “Why the deuce don't you get rid of the shops?” “They're the handiwork of my fath er, and I'm proud to follow his steps.’ Bennington’s eyes were no longer at peace; they sparkled with defiance. “Half-past ten!” suddenly. “I must be going. My luggage is still at the hotel. God bless you, Dick!" Their hands met once again, "You know, Jack, that I love you best of all men.” "You are sure there is no woman?” Warrington laughed easily. “Ah, it there was a woman! I expect to be lonely some day." Bennington put on his hat and gloves and Warrington followed him into the hall. Once the prospective bridegroon^ paused, as if he had left something un said, but he seemed to think the better of silence and went on. The door closed, and Warrington went slowly back to his desk, his mind filled with pleasant recollections of youth. "It is quite evident that you forgot me,” said the woman, a faint mirthless smile stirring her lips. "It was very close in there, and I could hear noth ing." She placed a hand on her fore head, swayed, and closed her eyes for a second time. “You are faint!" he cried, springing toward her. "It is nothing,” she replied, with a repelling gesture. “John Bennington, was it not?" “Yes.” His eyes grew round with wonder. “I was going to keep it secret as long as I could, but I see it is useless. He is the man I have promised to marry." Her voice had a singular quietness. Warrington retreated to his desk. “Bennington. You are going to marry John Bennington?” dully. Ho sat down abruptly and stared at her (Continued Next Week.> Making a Pet of Wild Swan. A male "Russian swan,” (tho larg est and hansomest species of the wild goose tribe), flew In wild three win ters ago, says Captain Peacocke of Los Angelos In the Strand, After much cajoling I have trained him, so that he will answer to the name I christ ened him, and when I call "Billy” he will run to me and will follow me like a dog. I do much of my literary work In this park, and “Billy” sits beside me and searches my various pockets for popcorn or crackers, and his dis appointment is pathetic If perchance I meet him empty-handed or, rather, empty-pocketed. It was fully a year before "Billy” would allow me to ap proach within 10 yards of him, but by degrees I have succeeded In winning his confidence, and he now afforifs end less amusement to mv friends and my self. An Earthquake Freak. On the morning of April 18, 1906, the cellar of Paul Masson, a wine mer chant, of San Jose, Cal., contained a stock of 125,000 bottles, all neatly ar ranged. Then came the earthquake and when the proprietor was able to enter his cellar again he found that 62,458 bottles, by actual count, were broken, and tho remainder thrown about in the wildest confusion. It is curious, says a writer in the Wide World, with such a large number of bottles, that tho "quake" should have come within a few dozen of demolishing an exact half of the stock. Pills to Prevent Earthquakes. Erom the London Saturday Review'. "1 leiuember.” says Adaiaon In the 240th Tattler, "when our whole Island was shaken with an earthquake some years ago, there was an Impudent mountebank who sold pills w'hlch, as he told tho country people, were 'very good against an earthquake."’ worse man Dciore. xnen alter an that stuttering jLytUa jfi. Fink- 1 ham’s Vegetable Compound restored her health. HERE IS HER OWN STATEMENT. Paw Paw, Mich. — “ Two years ago I suffered very severely with a displacement—I could not be on my feet for a long tim«. My physician treated me for several months without much re lief, and at last sent me to Ann Arbor for an op eration. I was there four weeks and came homo suffering worse than before. My mother ad vised me to try Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound, and I did. To-day I am well and strong and do all my own house work. I owe my health to Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com pound and advise every woman who is afflicted with any female complaint to try it.” —Mrs. Orville Rock, It. R. No, 5, Paw Paw, Mich. “ Thero never was a worse case.” Rockport, Ind.—“There never was a worse case of woman’s ills than mine, and I cannot begin to tell you what I suffered. For over two years I was not able to do anything. I was in bed for a month and the doctor said nothing but an operation would cure me. My father suggested Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound; so to please him I took it, and I improved wonder fully, so I am able to travel, ride horseback, take long rides and never feel any ill effects from it. I can only ask other suffering women to give Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound a trial before submitting to an operation.” —Mrs. Margaret Meredith, R. F. D. No. 3, Rockport, Ind. We will pay a handsome reward to any person who will prove to us that these letters are not genuine and truthful—or that either of these women were paid in any way for their testimonials, or that tho letters are published without their permission, or that the original letter from each did not come to us entirely unsolicited. For 30 years Lydia E. 1 inkham’s Vegetable Compound has been the standard remedy for female ills. No sick woman does justice to herself who will not try this famous medicine. Made exclusively from roots and herbs, and has thousands of enres to its credit. Bwnams Mrs. Pinkham invites all sick women W to write her for advice. She has guided thousands to health free of charge. Address Mrs. Pinkham, Lynn, Mass. An Ambassador’s Nose. An ambassador to Russia, formerly a leather merchant in this country, discovered certain secret processes re garding a special kind of leather man ufactured there. He would have been looked on with suspicion had it been suspected that he could learn any thing of these methods. But during his sojourn he got near enough to cer tain factories to register, through his sense of smell, some impressions with which he was able to work out the formulas when he returned home.— Atlantic Magazine. Classification. “Sir,” said a little blustering man to a religious opponent; “I say, sir, do you know to wbat sect I belong?” “Well, I don’t exactly know,” was the answer; “but to judge by your make, shape, and size, I should say you belonged to a class called the in sect.” Important to Mothers Examine carefully every bottle of CASTORIA, a safe and sure remedy for Infants and children, and see that it ZZZcCAfSS* In Use For Over 30 Years. Children Cry for Fletcher’s Castoria Getting the Worst of It. “Bliggins isn’t very lucky in driving bargains.” “No. He says he can’t even change his own mind without getting the worst of the deal.” "SPOHN'S.” This is the name of the greatest of ail remedies for Distemper, Pink Eye, Heaves, and the like among ail ages of horses. Sold by Druggists, Harness Makers, or send to the manufacturers. $.50 and $1.00 a bottle. Agents wanted. Send for free book. Spohn Medical Co., Spec. Contagious Diseases, Goshen, Ind. Absent-Minded Suffragette. One of the Suffragettes—I’ve lost me best hatpin, Lizzie. Another—Where did you leave it lastT The First—Oh, I remember now! I left it sticking in that policeman! — London Opinion. Set yourself earnestly to see what yon were made to do, and then set yourself earnestly to do it.—Phillips Brooks. “JUST FERNINST THE HILL" Little Pointer for Those Who Feel 4 Desire to Seek the State of Matrimony. The state of Matrimony is one o» the United States. It is bounded bj kissing and hugging on*one side and cradles and babies on the other. Itl chief products are population, broom sticks and staying out at night. If was discovered by Adam and Ev4 while trying to find a Northwest pas sage out of Paradise. The climate is sultry until you pass the tropics ol housekeeping, when squally weathet commonly sets in with such power ah to keep all hands as cool as cucum bers. For the principal roads leadinj to this interesting state, consult thi first pair of blue eyes you see.—Ex. change. You Never Can Tell. A certain ’cellist was once snow- > bound for three hours at a small rail road station. He unpacked his ’cello and played his dozen fellow sufferer* a request program with the result that one of them took him to Europe for a year. You never can tell as you heal your precious fiddle-case through, the streets what magic casement may nol open on the foam (of steins), and what fairy hand may not beckon you within to do the one thing needful tc opus fifty-nine, or draw a valiant how in the battle of Schumann quintet.—■ Robert H. Schauffier, in the Atlantia Ur. Pierce’s Pleasant Pellets re*ulat« and invigorate stomach, liver and bowels Sugar-coated, tiny granules. Easy to take as candy. Covered. Mother—P*i you paint the tamer Father—Yes, I gave it a coat and two pairs of trousers.—Harper’s Ba zar. Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing ayrup for Children teething, softens the gums, reduces inflamma tiou. allays p»m. cures wind colic, 25c a bottlo. Away with these cemeteriea ot stone; they are indecent; let me fad* into the anonymous grass! Take Garfield Tea to overcome constipa tion, cleanse system and maintain health. Why quarrel over religions when all men agree—all men, that is, at th* same grade of intellect? FREE SAMPLE CURED OLD PERSON’S BOWEL TROUBLE On© of th© most remark abl a proofs of the unusual laxative merit contained in Dr. Caldwell’s Syrup Pepsin is that it i3 effective not only in people in the prime :>f life, but at the extremes of ages. As many letters are received from mothers regarding the cures of children, as from men and women of sixty, seventy and eighty years of age. It mu3t be truly a wonderful laxative. In the cure of constipation and bowel trouble in old people it has no equal. It forrects the constipation, dispels the head ache. biliousness, gas. drowsiness after fating, etc. People advancing in years should see to it that their bowels move freely, and if they do not to talre Dr. Caldwell's Cyrup Pepuin. You can pro long your life by healthy bowel action. Clogged bowels Invite disease. Women about to pass the menstrual period cannot do better than use Syrup Pepsin several times a week until the system has set tled to Its future condition. Among the strongest supporters of Dr. Caldwell’s Syrup Pepsin are Mr. W. O. Zorn of New Decatur, Ala., and Mr. George S Spaulding of the National Sol filers' Home, Kansas, both elderly men. The regular size bottles can be bought of any druggist at fifty rents and one dol lar, but a free sample bottle can be had by sending your address to the doctor. For the fr-e simple address Dr. W. B. ; Caldwell, tiOl. Caldwell building, Montl . cello, 111.