avEi.i BY CLARA AUGUSTA INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION. CHAPTER XXIII. AR Into the night Margie sat reading the closely written sheet*, penned by the hand now pulseless In death. All was made clear; ' n Archer Trevlyn was fd fj fully exculpnted. He waa Innocent of ^r***-'^ the crime which «he had been Influenced to believe he had committed. She fell ■ on her knees and thanked God for that. Though lost to her It wa* a consolation Ineffable to know that he had not taken the lire of a fellow-mortal. Her resolution was taken before morning. She had deeply wronged Archer Trevlyn, and she must go to him with a full confession, confess her fault, and plead for his forgiveness. Cam rani, who came In the morning, approved her decision, and Nurse Day, who was told the whole story, and lis tened with moist eyes, agreed with them both. So It happened that on the ensuing morning Margie bade farewell to the quiet home which had sheltered her through her bitterest sorrow, and accompanied by Castranl set forth for New York. She went to her own home first. Her aunt was In the country, but the ser vants gave her a warm welcome, and after resting for an hour, she took her way to the residence of Archer Trevlyn, but a few squares distant. A strange silence seemed to bang over the palatial mansion. The blinds were closed I here waa no sign of life about the premises. A thrill of unex plained dread ran through her frame as she touched the silver-handled bell. The servant who answered her sum mons seemed to partake of the strange, solemn quiet pervading everything. "Is Mr. Trevlyn In?" she asked, trem bling in spite of herself. “I believe Mr. Trevlyn has left the country, madam. ‘'Left the country? When did he go?” “Some days ago." “Mrs. Trevlyn—take me to her! She was an old friend of mine.” The man looked at her curiously, hes itated a r:o iient, and motioning her to enter. Indicated the closed door of the parlor. “Yon can go In. I presume, as you are a friend of the family," A feeling of solemnity, which was almost awe, stole over Margie as she turned the handle of the door and mopped inside the parlor. It was Mhrouded In the gloom of almost utter darkness Margie stopped by the door until her •eyes became accustomed to the gloom, -and then she saw that the center of the room was occupied by a table, on which lay some rigid object—strangely long and stlU and angular—covered with a drapery of black velvet, looped up by dying water lilies. •Still controlled by that feeling of strange awe, Margie stole along to the table and lifted the massive cover. She I saw beneath it the pale, dead face of Alexandrine Trevlyn. She dropped the pall, uttered a cry of horror, and sank upon a chair. The door unclosed i noiselessly, and Mrs. Lee, the mother ; . of the dead woman, came In. "Oh, Margie! Margie!” she cried, “pity me! My heart Is broken! My darling! My only child Is taken from me!” It was long before she grew com puted enough to give any explanation ■ of the tragedy—for tragedy Margie felt sure It was. The story can be told in a few brief words. Alexandrine and her husband j had bad some difficulty. Mrs. Lee could not tell In relation to what, but die knew that Alexandrine blamed herself for the part she bad taken. Mr. Trevlyn left her In anger to go to I’blladelpbla on business. He was ex peitedpto b* absent about four days Meanwhile bis wife suffered agonies of remorse, and counted the hours until tils return should give her the privilege of throwing herself at bis feet and lag ging his forgiveness. Hut tie did not return. A week, ten days passed, and still no tldlugs. Alex andrine was almost frantic. On the eleventh day came a telegraphic dls paUh. brief and cruel, as those heart* less things Invariably are, informing tier that Mr Trevlyn had dosed hi* business in Philadelphia and was on the ey* of leaving the country for an IndeAitll* period. HI* destination was not mentioned, and hi* unhappy wife, feeling that if be left Philadelphia without her seeing him all tram of him would be lost hurried to the de pa* and set nut twr that vtly. There had lari an accident about half way between New York and Iwila •lelphla and Alexandrine had been brought bark to her splendid Home g vorpae' That *** all. CHAPTKN XXIV *o- IIK turn m* i day Net on and brought the an tttma meliowae-s •ml spi - iur Mar s • »' god 4 - *t llarrieoa Hark ^ ' With bet staid t: amide* sum A year paeeud •nay thus mono linnmT. ibeo ••«!her and »• Udtng* ever came of Archer Trevlyn. Margie thought of him now an we think of one being dead, with tender regret, and love almost reverent. He was dead to her, she said, but It was no sin to cher ish his memory. In the third year Margie's aunt mar ried. It was quite a little romance. An old lover, discarded years before In a fit of girlish obstinacy, came back, after weary wanderings In search of hap piness, and seeking out the love of other days, wooed and won her over again. There was a quiet wedding, and then the happy pair decided on a trip to Europe. And, of course, Margie must accompany them. At first she de murred; she look ho little pleasure In anything, she feared her presence might mar their hupplncss, and she dreaded to leave the place where she had passed so many delightful hours with him. But her aunt and Doctor Elbert refused to give her up, and so, one beautiful September morning, they sailed for Liverpool In the good ship Colossus. For many days the voyage was pros perous, but In mid-ocean they fell upon stormy weather and the ship was tosHed about at the mercy of the winds and waters. It was a terrible storm, and great apprehensions were entertained that the vessel might founder, but she would doubtless have weathered the blast In safety If she had not sprung a leak. The fearful Intelligence was an nounced Just at the closing In of a dark dismal night, and every heart sank - - a -- — w«*w*^w* au Only for a moment! The men sprang to the pumps and worked with a will— as men will work for their lives—but their efforts were vain. The water In creased in the hold, and It soon became evident that the Colossus would hardly keep afloat until morning. But just when they were most help less, most despairing, the lights of a strange ship were seen. They succeed ed In making their desperate condition known, and by day-dawn all were safe on board the steamer, for the stranger proved to be a steamer on her way to New York. The decks were crowded; Doctor El bert was looking after his wife, and Margie, clinging to a rope, stood fright ened and alone. Some one came to her, said a few words which the tempest made Inaudible, and carried her below. The light of the cabin lamps fell full on his face. She uttered a cry, for in that moment she recognized Archer Trev lyn. "Margie Harrison!" he cried, his An gers closing tightly over hers. "Mar gie! Mine! Mine at last! The ocean has given you up to me!” "Oh, Archer, where have you been? It has been so weary! And I have want ed to see you so much—that I might tell you how I had wronged you—that I might ask you to forgive me. Will you pardon me for believing that you could ever be guilty of that man’s death? If you knew all—If you knew how art fully it was represented to me—what overwhelming proofs were presented, you would not wonder—’’ “I do know all, Margie; Alexandrine told me. My poor wife! God rest her. She believed me guilty and yet her fatal love fsr me overlooked the crime. She deceived me In many things, but she is dead, and I will not be unforgiv ing. She poisoned my mind with sus picions of you and Louis Castrani, and I was fool enough to credit her insinua tions. Margie, I want you to pardon me.” "I do, freely, Castrani la a noble soul. I love him as I would a brother." "Continue to do so, Margie. He de serves It, I think. The night I left home Alexandrine revealed to me the catiee of your sudden rejection of no*. We quarreled terribly. I remember It with bitter remorse. We parted In anger, Margie, and she died without my for giveness and blessing. It was very bard, but perhaps at the last she did not suiter i wm Dei leva «o "If she sinned It wu through love of you. hrcher. unit that ahould make you very forgiving toward her.” "1 have forgiven her long ago I know • he proofs were strong against me. | am not sure but (hut they were aultli lent to have convicted no of mur der tn a court of law. You w«r* von* acinus of my presence that night in the graveyard. Margie?" Yea I thought It waa you. I knew ne other man * presence nad the power to thrill and impress me vs yours did " "I meant to impress you Margie I brought all the strength of my will to hear ua that oh Jed I said lo myself, she shall know that I am near her and yet my visible presence snail net be revealed to her I had found out which waa your window from one of the ser vants end I watched Us light which burned through the dusky twtligkt like tke evening star I wander it you bed a thought for me that aigat. Margie your wedding night*' » did tbiab of you she blushed and hid her fare ua his shoulder *'l did think af you I long- I luetpressl bly t« If to your aide sad he forever at reel. * "Mr darling*" ke hten»*d her fondly. and went on **l saw you leave year room hr Ike window and come dewa Ike garden path I bsl < It that you would cwase I waa not surpriaod ikai taw did. I and eapeeted It I fallowed you silealty. saw you koeet hr the grors of your parents, heard you call out upon your father for pity. O, how I loved and pitied you, Margie—but my tongue was tied—I had no right to speak—but I did kiss your band. Did you know It, Margie?" "Yes." "You recognized me then? I meant you should. After that I hurried away. I was afraid to trust myself near you longer, lest I might be tempted to what I might repent. I fled away from the place and knew nothing of the fearful deed done there until the papers an nounced It next day.” "And I suspected you o( the crime! O, Archer! Archer! how could I ever have been so blind? How can you ever forgive me?" "I want forgiveness, Margie. 1 doubted you. I thought you were false to me, and had fled with Castranl. That unfortunate glove con Armed you, I suppose. I dropped it In my baste to escape without your observation, and afterward I expected to hear of It In connection with the finding of Din mere’s body. 1 never Juiew what be came of it until my wife displayed It, that day when she taunted me with my crime. Poor Alexandrine! She had the misfortune to love me, nnd after your renunciation, and your departure from New York—In those days when 1 deemed you false and fair- 1 offered her my hand. 1 thought perhaps she might he happier as my wife, and I felt that I owed her something for her de voted love. 1 tried to do my duty by her, but a man never ran do that by his wife, unless he loves her.” "You acted for what you thought was best. Areher." "I did. Heaven knows I did. She died In coming to me to ask my forgive ness for the taunting words she hud spoken at our last parting. I was cruel. I went away from her In pride and anger, and left behind me no means by which she could communicate with me. I deserved to suffer, and I have.” “And I also, Archer.” “My poor Margie! Do you know, dear, that It was the knowledge that you wanted me which was sending me home again? A month ago I saw i/ouls Cas tranl In Paris. He told me everything. He was delicate enough about It, darl ing; you need not blush for fear he might have told me you were grieving for me; but he made me understand that my future might not he so dark as I had begun to regard It. He read to me the dying confession of Arabel Vere, and made clear many things regarding which I had previously been In the dark. Is all peace between us, Margie?” “All Is peace, Archer. And (iod Is very good.” “He is. I thank Him for ll. And now I want to ask one thing more. I am Dot quite satisfied.” “Well?” "Perhaps you will think It Ill-timed — now that we are surrounded by strang ers, and our very lives perhaps In peril —but I cannot wait. I have spent pre cious moments enough in waiting. It has been very long, Margie, since I heard you say you loved ine, and I want to hear the words again.” She looked up at him shyly. “Archer, how do I know but you hare changed?” “You know I have not. I have loved but one woman—I shall love no other through time and eternity. And now, at last, after all the distress and the sorrow we have passed through, will you give me your promise to meet what ever else fortune and fate may have In store for us, by ray side?” She put her face up to his, and he kissed her lips. "Yours always, Archer. I have never had one thought for any other.” So a second time were Archer Trev lyn and Margie Harrison betrothed. uo ine ensuing nay uie siorni auaieu, and the steamer made a swift passage to New York. Doctor and Mrs. Klbert were a little disappointed at the sudden termina tion of their bridal tour, but consoled themselves with the thought that they could try It over again In the spring. Trevlyn remained in the city to ad \ Just some business affairs which hud suffered from his long absence, and Margie and her friends went up to her old home, lie was to follow them thither on the ensuing day. And so It happened dial once more I Margie sat in her old familiar chamber dressing fur the coining of Archer Trevlyn. What should she put on? She remembered the rose-colored dress she had laid away that dreadful nigiit so loug ago. Hut now the rose colored dreams had come back, wi>> not wear the rose-color «d dress? To the unbo ludrd horror of Klorine, she arrayed hetMOlf In the old fashioned dress, and waited for her lover Aud she had aol loug to wait, Mbs heard his well-remembered sl.-p In Ihe hall, and a moment after she was folded ia his arms CMAHTKR XXV. T ('llHitt r M A H •hi if w >< « bridal at II-hi i.on l ark I to ia» a is . leal ' a#*i lu , lbsa th* // - ai> almost av / M«) a» tb« air of tying Huah a ('hr lit mas had mi b*»s kuowa for y*h the sua shoo* brightly sad soft wind* sighed through Ihe Isa lies* trees Asd Margie waa married and not 0 steal • tree hetweoh her and the aun 1‘eac* and content d»»ii with Archer I trevtyn and hie wife to their bewnttfel horn* Having suff»r»j they knew het ' ter hew te he gretelui fur, and to ay y rectal* th* kieeaings «| Uat beatened a yea them. At their hegyr tieetde there mwu at i til eemettmee ef en •>-n’.ag e guret grave-faced mas. A man who Archer Trevlyn and hla wife love aa a dear brother, and prize above all other earthly frlenda. And beside Louis Cas tranl, Leo sits, serene and contem plative, enjoying a green old age In peace and plenty. Castrnnl will never marry, but sometime In the hereafter, I think he will have his recompense. (THE END.) THE BIOOEST POLICEMAN. He Is Said le He Philadelphia's Capt Malln. * Philadelphia has cause for civic pride In the possession of the biggest 'ind strongest guardian of the public peace In the country over—Police Captain Ed ward W. Malln of the Second division, cava the Philadelphia Press. There may br^ieavler wearers of the blue uniform, but mere avoirdupois Is not a thing to be proud of. Capt. Malln measures in height 8 feet 6% Inches, Ills weight Is 200 pounds, which makes him splendidly propor tioned. Beside him the 8-foot 200 pounder looks small enough to be cox swain of a university crew. The labor of growing heavenward so tremendously has not taxed his brain and vitality, for Capt. Malln Is strong and hardy, and when he shakes your hand warmly you think of the great steam hammer In the Krupp gun works at Essen. As for a hearty slap on the back, a timid man would prefer a tap from a trolley car, Capt. Malln will have been connected with the nnllre force of fhllaileloliia nineteen year* on the 2#th of next Oc tober and ha* painted through the sev eral grades of duty from that of a “*ub" patrolman to the responsible po sition of one of the five captaincies of the 1'hlladHphla police department from “sub” to regular patrolman, to sergeant, to lieutenant, and to captain, ills record has been an honorable one, and It goes without saying that Capt, Malln has had a comparatively peace ful career, although he has always been courageous and faithful to duty. Out the most reckless lawbreaker or a syn dicate of him would well hesitate to mix up In a personal encounter with a giant who would be more than likely to tuck the company under bis arms and save the patrol wagon the trouble of carrying the victims of misguided confidence to the station. He has been Injured more than once In the performance of his duty, but, as the small boy said after the fight, "You ought to have seen the other chap." It is told of the big captain that when acting as lieutenant in the old police headquarters at Fifth and Chestnut streets, be waH one day sitting by the door that led Into the cellroom. Capt. Malln was alone and was trying to read a newspaper. In one of the cells a man with a many horse-powered voice was shouting alound bis yearning to get out and whip "anything with brass buttons on It.” “You got me In here when I was drunk and helpless. Now I’m sober and I can eat up any two coppers In the precinct. Only give me a show at them.” Lieut. Malln was patient until he deemed patience was a drug In the market. The bellicose prisoner was spoiling for blood. Nothing else would quiet him. The lieutenant sent for the jailer and told him to open the cell door, and as the hinge grated the tight er flew Into the roll-call room with an Incandescent glow in his eyes. The lieutenant slowly rose from his chair until he was looking down at the pris oner far below. He said gently: “Were you looking for something?" “I—I—I—thought I-’’ “Hadn’t you better go back and keep quiet?” "Yes, sir; yes, sir. Don’t hit me. please,” and the war was averted by arbitration. Capt. Malln was born and "raised” on a farm near Oradyvllle, In Delaware county. He worked out of doors through his boyhood and didn’t know what a cigarette was. Lots of work, sleep, fresh air, and healthful food made a man of him and gave him a famous start In life. A DANGEROUS BIRD. Wliftt Will liMppau mollis if!»jr IU »n IB* rautloQ* llunt«r of |llu« lloroaft. "Home of these days," said the 'long shore hunter, “I expect to open my dally paper and see a headline some thing like this: ‘Killed by a blue heron,’ and Ml tell you why. The blue lierou Is u big, powerful bird which has al ready dtaHgured the facea of several men. The men have wounded a bird aud theu thinking to capture It alive they went up to It. Why I'd as toou try to kiss a wounded grlialy. The bird* grow a* tall as alx feet aud have necks like a Ash rod and Just the kind of muscle* to move It the quickest with the moat strength They could drive their hill points through a quarter-inch panel "The hunter goes up to the bird and sees It lying there looking as innocent as a robin, with only a broken wing What a hue pet It would make,' the fowl hunter thinks Then he picks the bird up and starts for home In a wages or a host, with the bird between Ms knee* The bird * neck t* drawn hack like a letter H ' All of a sudden the hill , shoot* up and give* ik* man a g**h alongside the eye three inches long Thai M what always baa happened The weuwded bird has mt*aed it# aim but sometime* wad yen want to re member It, this feather* t •pearmau will drive it* Ml< far late H* eaemv'e I eye. and like a *te*l «»' r«tt* stick the point el ibe Mil wl|« pen -fate the man a I brats I gweaa the bird * atm ba* al | way* been spoiled by the pain af tta ! wound* and mi many a human Ufa ba* been saved I don't moahey with wounded bttleru* or .ranee welt, warcely '* CALIFORNIA PRUNE ORCHARDS. Karv Riaaif »nrt Almost Perfect Culti vation of the Fruit Tree#. A ride through one of the vast prune orchards when the trees are In full bloom Is an experience never to be for gotten, says Harper's Weekly. Some of these orchards, consisting of 600 acres, contain 50,000 trees, their ages varying from 5 to 10 years and planted In regular rows from ten to twenty feet apart. No pebble nor clod nor blade of grass can be found among the friable soil of the mlles-long aisles which In tervene, tassellated by the flickering shadows of the swaying snowy petals which project on either side from flower-laden branches. Bird and bee and butterfly are alive to the situation and puncture the perfumed air of a cloudless May morning with song, buzz and voiceless wing. Among the em barrassment of beauty walks the alert Intelligent orchardlst, watching with the trained eye of an artist the de velopment of the tiny bud of the em bryo prune upon the tree until picked at the prime of Its perfection with the deft hand of an expert. In order to pro duce the desired uniformity of size and shape each frult-bearlng bough Is sub jected to such thinning and pruning that there lie scattered gobut the buse of a tree often moVe rejected prunes than are left hanging upon Its branches. As the eastern plum pest, the curcullo, Is unknown In California, as scarcely a drop of rain falls upon the trees from May until November, and as there is no scorching sun to shrivel the delicate skin of the prune nor rough wind to mar Its contour, a bough of full ripened clusters represents one of perfect prunes. In an area from six to ten miles square planted with fruit trees 1)1,000 acres are In prunes alone. They cover the billowy surface of the majestic foothills, as well as the plain, with a beautiful Irregularity Impossible uj iwwtiui'. >4i (juii'Kiug lime im>u sands of busy hands are at work— chiefly those of hoys and girls—pre paring the luscious fruit for curing un der the rays of the midsummer sun. The average yield from the crop Is about eight tons per acre. The aver age cost of caring for the orchards, harvesting and curing the crop, is $20 per acre, leaving a net income per acre of $210. I.lvrri Without a llrxlo. A Williamsport man has surprised lhe scientists by living for years with out a brain. John Bly, aged 20 year*, who died recently, had suffered for a long time with a tumor, which grew into the very base of the brain and oc casioned his death. The growth had a visible effect upon his brain and the case became a curiosity to the medical profession. The tumor was imbedded too deeply Into the brain tissues to ad mit of an operation. It was found that the tumor was nearly as large as a billiard ball. It was so located as to demoralize the nerves of the sight cen ter and, as a consequence, young Bly was blind for over three years. it was developed at the autopsy that the entire brain had been hollowed out by the action of the tumor. The cavity was at least five inches in lengrh and was filled with pus. All that was left of the brain was a thin shell, com posed of the tougher tissues, which were less susceptible to the proceeds of decay. When an Incision was made In the shell the whole mass collapsed. The circumstance which made the case almost unprecedented In the an nals of medical science was the man ner In which the patient retained his rationality and faculties under the cir cumstances. He had the senses of touch, taste, hearing and smell, had very tolerable control of his locomotor muscles could talk, and, In fact, was comparatively discommoded in no other way than by the loss of vision. His re tention of memory was remarkable. He was able to memorize poems up to within two weeks of his death.— Wllkesbarre Record. In m CoriuDit Orchard A Yucatan correspondent of the Philadelphia Record describes a large coeoanut plantation of a New England man down there. "On a tract of 1,000 acres (purchased from the government at the rate of four cents per acre) ho has set out 10,000 trees, and expects In ilue time to make a princely fortune therefrom. It requires six years fer the trees to begin to yield returns; and It is estimated that In ten years from the time of planting the grove will »-e worth at least Jl.OiiO.OOO. on which !t will yield au annual income of lo p»r cent. A full grown coeoanut ire*, will mature from sixty to 100 nuts every year. Another American is experiment Ing in this neighborhood on ramie, or vegetable silk, and declares that its < t^itivaliuii la to bnt'orue au Important factor In cloth-making materials Rv inle la a member of the bromella fam ily here, known aa 'silk grass', and grows wild in thn hoi sands of the coast. Today It in worth 38 cent* a pound In Manchester. England, where the demand for tt la Immensely atm* I of the preaeut supply." !«•*» Thirteen "I believe that the number thirteen I brings nt« good Inch," said I* T Thorn ton of lotulsvllla. at the Metropolitan 1 "I don't knew whether nr aot it was be- j cause 1 was bora ua the thirteenth of; the month, hut I have watched It fur 1 years sad wh«ae vsr there is a combtna-1 tiaa la which thirteen appears It Is a luck) one fur me I am •• hill h of t 1 crank la favor of the number thirteen as anyone >an possibly be against It. i If I am having a dull business en the road I ash the hotel clerk* lo give tor ■ ueut No II It Is remsrhshle how maa> hotels have no fount with that t number, end I am told that I am tbs only man who ever aah* fur a tuum with that number Must m*h sb)-, t j to hr gt*e« »VKh a l«Mi Waah.ng'»n Trying ts Salt Him. "Joalar,” said the young man's fath er, "do ye remember what he said the other day 'bout not being able to do whut I asked yer to round the farm scnce ye got educated, 'cause ye want ed su'tbin' deep ter accypy yer 'ten tlon?" “Yea, father.” “Wal, I've got the very thing fur ye. Ola man Tunkins is diggin' a subcel lar."—Washington Star. That Terrible Scourge. Malarial disease Is Invariably supple mented by disturbance of tbs liver, (be bowel*, the stomach and the nerves To the removal of both the cause and Its effects, llostetter'e Stomach Bitters It fully ade uuate. It "Ills the bill"** no other remedy does. performing Its work thoroughly Its Ingredient* are pure and wholesome, and It admirably serve* to build up a system broken by 111 health and shorn of strength, i onatlpatlon, liver and kidney complaint and nervousness ars comjuorea by It. Lark of Realism. Mr. Wickwlre—"What ridienfbus, Im possible things these fsshion pistes are." Mrs Wickwire—"I know they used to be, but most of them sre engraved from photographs nowadays.” Mr. Wickwlrs—"This one can’t be. Here are two women going in opposite directions, both with brand new gowns on, and neither looking back at the other.”—Indianapolis Journal. Hall's Catarrh Care Is taken internally. Price, 73c. Somehow, ws always distrust tbs bill of fare at a boarding house that calls its boarders "guests." Tran** Mississippi Invention*. Omaha, Nebraska, July 31, 189A.— Amongst the inventors who received patents last week were William 8. Wit ten, South Omaha, Nebraska, feed holding bin; Oaylord C. Wooster, Kulo, Nebraska, scale beam; Jehiel B. Wynkoop, Muscatine Iowa, rubber cap for axle nuts; Oeorge P. KUtner, l.ovr Moor, Iowa, disk cultivator; Kdward A. Hinricha, Davenport, Iowa, dolL Amongst the curious inventions were found an interchangeable toy and box; a combination bloomer and bicycle shirt; a non-puncturing pneumatic tire provided with a steel shield; a bicycle adapted to be used on ice; a duplex bi cycle tire comprising superposed flex ible tires; a device for raising and low ering bicycle tops; and an attachment for bicycles comprising a folding rod that can be expanded and is provided with a mirror adapted to be used on ladies’ bicycles so that they can ar range their bangs while in transit Free information relative to patents may be obtained in addressing Hues A Ca, I.'nited States Patent Solicitors, liee Building, Omaha. Ncbr. He a fool while you are young; it is bet ter to cause grief to parents than to children. If the Baby Is Cutting Team, laser* and u,i* that old and well, triad remedy, Has Swuiw’i Soonuaa Sixer far Children Teething You i sn’t make an old man tielieve that he can live on love. History is wbat character has written. 1 refreshing sleep come with blood made pure by Hood’s Sarsaparilla The One True Blood Purifier. All druggists. |L Hood’s Pills are the best after-dinner pills. rr, . 1 . 1 ,ia EDUCATIONAL. THE UNIVERSITY OF HOTRE DAME. N«tr« Dtsmr, Indiana. rail I nrMi In Clutlci, Utlrn, Release, Law, llvii, •haalral an ! Kleclrlr-al Kaplaarrlap Tkorosfb I'rrparaUry ami (tiMMrrrl I l uar«r« IU*ai Proa to all students who have 4*0 in pi e f m i the at nil lea • squired for admission into tio* Junior or Senior Year, of any of tha Collegiate Courses. A limited number of Candidate* tor the Ecclesiastical *tate will |>e received at special rttee. •l KdwariT* Nell, or boy» under IS years Is unique In coni'* rN'Iie-'# f tff equipment* The lOSth Term >111 Op4.li aaptrailirr ath. IstHl (*l*l*«*ea sent »«• uu <»ppti* ration to WHY RVV. A. NORRINNKV, C. *. 1., PrsalSa.t, lUTKk noth, ike. ACADEMY OF THE SACRED HEART n r. JOMF.PH. MO. The course of Instruction in this academy, conducted by the Itellgious of the Nacre*! Heart, embrace* the whole rang** of subject* necessary to constitute a solid and refined education. Propriety of <|i«norimrul per sonal maines* and the principles of to uality are ob ject* of unceasing attention, hi tensive grounds af ford the pupil* every Is. llity for useful h.*dt-y exer cise; their health (salt object *»f constant solicitude, and in to* kn< »» the) are attended with maternal care. Pall term opens Tuesday, Kept I. Terms for »e*«iou of b month*. pa>able in advance, 91 |R. this Include# luttlou. board, washing, courses in Punch, (leiman or 1 at in, use of lihrarv and phv»trlan,s f< «• Tor fur ther particulars addr**** Till: Ml'PKHluH. Acadom, Sacred H»art. St. Wo, WMff MISSOURI. The litmt fruit Hei'ilon Iti the West .no drouth* A fu ture of i ruiw nsvt r known. Mild cl ttiuie 1‘iuilui'llutstill. Atiuiidul.ie of rimkI pure witter For Maps and t'treulam giving full de*4?*l|» lion of the | Ir *>-i "-iBibuiaii, Vl/UKIV *••!•»> mHlknlHIkl. ™ *• * | ,..4,,. Hit , 4." K,<.41 |4U PATENTS, TRADE MARKS KiAMbsitss a*4jA4«Im •* |h I •gl.tsM H? *f I*. •ssiisa Real l**f ”|m***I‘ « *#•«..*»■ , n » «. <*%ia NhMt ** U I ikkMI d km. 9 a*bi*R| m, U f, SCHOOL SUPPIIES. ZTJZZZSZ Unas* Ivimt It mt v... PiTIITt •itetus*# a#« i oet«hMi4. *» *wah*.1-ia|t*,a esam-wevirZ, Fek on a« l*»s*i a A««*•«, If - tftii ,w nPlUH WHUMV k«h «##• VriVm b* • u uwsikdi, ««i,4. na. It Una j Tkamnaan's lua Mala* •ms eye#, «ss I Vi|i VIMvi LINDSEY* OMAHA-RUBBERS! W N 1 ■ ikt ill * •§ 1 it lt*u •mum i„ «4,|v-*Ilur*. kindly J m*ntH,ti ihw |M*u**r, J D