SYNOPSIS.
“Ma i ’ Dan Maitlaivl. on reaching his
New Vork bachelor dub. rnet an atirac
ii\ • young woman at the door. Janitor
assured turn no one had been
within that day. I)an discovered a wom
an's fins* r prints in dust on his desk,
along with a letter from his attorney.
Maitland dined with Hannerman. his at
torney. Dan set out for Greenfields, to
get his family jewels. During his walk
to th* country seat, he met the young
woman :n gray, whom he had seen leav
ing his bad:dors’ dub. Her auto had
broken down. II** fixed it. liy a ruse she
“lost” } in:. Maitland, on reaching home,
surpri.-' d ie.dy in gray, cracking the safe
containing his gems. She, apparently,
took hi: i f< r a well-known c rook. Daniel
Anisty Half-hypnotized. Maitland opened
his safe, took therefrom the jewels, and
r.av.* them to her, first forming a part
nership .:. rime. The real Dan Anisty.
sought i ■ police of tin world, appeared
on the sane- mission. Maitland overcame
him.
CHAPTER IV.—Continued.
‘ You doubted me, after all!” she
commented, a trifle bitterly.
‘‘I—no! You misunderstand me.
Believe me. I—”
"Ah, don't protest. What does it
make or mar, whether or not you
trusted me? . . . You have,” she
added, quietly, "the jewels safe
enough. I suppose?”
He stopped short, aghast. “I! The
jewels!"
"I slij ped them in your coat pocket
before—"
Instantly her hand was free. Mait
land ramming both his own into the
side pockets of his top coat. "They're
safe!"
She smiled uncertainly.
"We have no time,” said she. “Can
you drive—?”
They were standing by the side of
her car, which had been cunningly hid
den in the gloom beneath a spreading ;
tree on the further side of the road.
Maitland, crestfallen, offered his hand:
the tips of her fingers touched his
palm lightly as she jumped in. He hes
itated at the step.
“You wish me to?"
She laughed lightly. “Most assured
ly. You may assure yourself that I
shan't try to elude you again—" ■ ,
"I would I might he sure of that.” !
he said, steadying his voice and seek
ing her eyes.
‘'Procrastination won't make it any j
mere assured.’’
He stepped up and settled himself
in the driver’s seat, grasping throttle
and ste- ring wheel; the great machine
thrilled to his touch like a live thing,
then began slowly to back out into
the road. For an instant it seemed to
hang palpitant on dead center, then
shot out like a hound unleashed, ven
tre-a-terre—Brooklyn miles away over
the hoed.
It seemed but a minute ere they
were thundering over the Myannis
biidge. A little further on Maitland
slowed down and, jumping out, lighted
the lamps. Tn the seat again—no
words had passed—he threw in the
high-speed clutch, and the world tiling
behind them, roaring. Thereafter,
breathless, stunned by the frenzy of
s-t-eed. perforce silent, they bored on
through the night, crashing along de
serted highways.
In the east a band of pallid light
lifted up out of the night, and the
horizon took shape against it, stark
and Dlack. Slowly, stealthily, the
formless dawn dusk spread over the
sleeping world; to the zenith the light
smitten stars reeled and died, and
houses, fields, and thoroughfares lay'
a glimmer with ghostly twilight as the
car tore headlong through the grim,
unlovely, silent hinterland of Long
Inland City.
The gates of the ferry-house were in
exorably shut against them when at
last Maitland brought the big machine
to a tremulous ami panting halt, like
that of an overdriven thoroughbred.
And though they perforce endured a
wait of fully 15 minutes, neither found
aught worth saying; or else the words
wherewith fitly to clothe their thoughts
were denied them. The girl seemed very
weary, and sat with head drooping and
hands clasped idly in her lap. To
Maitland’s hesitant query as to her
comfort she return a monosyllabic re
assurance. He did not again venture
to disturb her; on his own part he was
cnnscicus of a clogging sense of ex
haustion. of a drawn and haggard feel
ing about the eyes and temples; and
knew that he was keeping awake
automatically, his being already a
doze.
The fresh wind off the sullen river
served in some measure to revive
them, once the gates were opened and
the car had taken a place on the fer
ry-boat’s forward extreme. Day was
now full upon the world; above a hori
zon belted with bright magenta, the
cloudless sky was suft turquoise and
sapphire; and abruptly, while the big
unwieldy boat surged across the nar
row ribbon of green water, the son
shot up with a shout and turned to
an evanescent dream of fairy land the
gaunt, rock-ribbed profile of Manhat
tan island, bulking above them in tier
upon tier of monstrous buildings.
On the Manhattan side, in deference
to the girl's low-spoken wish Maitland
tan the machine up to Second avenue,
turned north, and brought it to a stop
bv the curb, a little north of Thirty
fifth street.
“And cow whither?” he inquired,
hands somewhat impatiently ready
upon the driving and steering gear.
The girl smiled faintly through her
veil. “You have been most kind," she
told him in a tired voice. "Thank you
—from my heart, Mr. Anisty,” and
made a move as if to relieve him of
his charge.
“Is that all?” he demanded, blankly.
“Can 1 say more?"
“I ... I am to go no further
with you?” Sick with disappointment,
he rose and dropped to the sidewalk—
anticipating her affirmative answei
"If you would please me,” said '.he
girl, “you won't insist.”
“I don't,” he returned, ruefuuy.
“Hut are you quite sure that you're o’l
right now?"
tarn
“We Have No Time/' Said She. “Can You Drive—?**
■ ‘Quite, thank you, rloar Mr, Anisty!"
With a pretty gesture of conquering
impulse she swept her veil aside, and
the warm rose-glow of the new-horn
day tinted her wan young cheeks with
color. And her eves were as stars,
bright with a mist of emotion, brim
ming with gratutnde—and something
else. He could not say what; but one
thing he knew, and that was that she
was worn with excitement and fatigue,
near to the point of breaking down.
"You're tired." he insisted, solici
tous. “Can't you let me—?’’
"I am tired.” she admitted, wistfully,
voice subdued, yet rich and vibrant.
"No, please. Please let me go. Don't
ask me any questions—now.”
“Only one.” he-made supplication
‘Tve done nothing—"
"Nothing but be more kind than I
can say!"
"And you’re not going to hack out
of our partnership?"
“Oh!" And now the color in her
cheeks was warmer than that which
the dawn had lent them. “No. . . .
I shan’t back out." And she smiled.
“And if I call a meeting of the board
of management of Anisty and Went
worth, Limited, you will promise to
attend?”
Y e-es—
“Will it be too early if I call one
for to-day?"
“Why—”
“Say at two o’clock this afternoon,
at Eugene's. You know the place?”
“I have lunched there—"
"Then you shall again to-day. You
won't disappoint me?"
“1 will be there. I ... I shall
be glad to come. Now—please!"
“You've promised. Don't forget.”
He stepped back and stood in a sort
of dreamy daze, while, with one final
wonderful smile at parting, the girl as
sumed control of the machine and
swung it out front the curb. Maitland
watched it forge slowly up the avenue
and vanish round the Thirty-sixth
street corner; then turned his face
southward, sighing with weariness and
discontent.
At Thirty-fourth street a policeman,
lounging beneath tlie* corrugated iron
awning of a corner saloon, fated about
with a low whistle, to stare after him.
Maitland experienced a chill sense of
criminal guilt; he was painfully con
scious of those two shrewd eyes, bor
ing gimlet-like into his back, over
looking no detail of the wreck of his
evening clothes. Involuntarily he
glanced down at his legs, and they
moved mechanically beneath the edge
of ills overcoat like twin animated
columns of mud and dust, openly ad
vertising Ills misadventures. He felt
in his soul that they shrieked aloud,
that they would presently succeed in
dinning all the town awake, so that
the startled populace would come to
the windows to stare in wonder as he
passed by. And inwardly he groaned
and quaked.
As for the policeman, after some re
luctant hesitation, he overcame the in
herent indisposition to exertion that
affects his kind, and. swinging his
stick, stalked after Maitland.
Happily (and with heartfelt thanks
giving) the young man chanced upon
a somnolent and bedraggled hack, at
rest in the stenciled shadows of the
Third avenue elevated structure. Its
pilot was snoring lustily the sleep of
the belated, on the box. With some
difficulty he was awakened, and Mait
land dodged into the musty, dusty body
of the vehicle grateful to escape the
unprejudiced stare of the guardian of
the peace, who in another moment
would have overtaken him and, dojbt
less, subjected him to embarrassing
inquisition.
As the ancient four-wheeler rattled
noisily over the cobbles, some of the
shops were taking down their shutters,
the surface cars were beginning to run
with increasing frequency, and the
sidewalks were becoming sparsely
populated. Familiar as the sights
were, they were yet somehow strange
ly unreal to the young man. In a
night the face of the world had
changed for him: its features loomed
weirdly blurred and contorted through
the mystical gray-gold atmosphere of
t lie land of Romance, wherein he real
ly lived and moved and had his being.
The blatant day was altogether pre
posterous; to-day was a dream, some
thing nightmarish; last night be had
been awake, last night for the first
time in twenty-odd years of existence
he had lived.
He slipped unthinkingly one hand
into his coat pocket, seeking instinc
tively his cigarette case; and his fin
gers brushed the coarse-grained stir
face of a canvas bag. He jumped as if
electrified. He had managed altogeth
er to forget them, yet in his keeping
were the jewels, Maitland heirlooms—
the swag and booty, the loot and plun
der of the night’s adventure. And he
smiled happily to think that his inter
est in them was 50 per cent, depreci
ated in 24 hours; now he owned only
half.
Suddenly he sat up. with happy eyes
and a glowing face. She had trusted
him!
CHAPTER V.
Incognito.
At noon, precisely, Maitland stirred
between the sheets for the first time
since he had thrown himself into his
bed—stirred, and, confused by what
ever alarm had awakened him, yawned
stupendously, and sat up, rubbing
cienehed fists in his eyes to clear them
of sleep’s cobwebs. Then he bent for
ward, clasping his knees, smiled large
ly. replaced the smile with a thought
ful frown, and in such wise contem
plated the foot of the bed for several
minutes—his first conscious impres
sion, that lie had something delightful
to look forward to yielding to a vague
recollection of a prolonged shrill tin
tinnabulation—as if the telephone bell
in the front room had been ringing for
some time.
But he waited in vain fora repetition
of the sound, and eventually concluded
that he had been mistaken: it had
been an echo from his dreams, most
likely. Besides, who should call him
up? Not two people knew that he
was in town: not even O’Hagan was
aware that he had returned to his
rooms that morning.
He gaped again, stretching wide his
arms, sat up on the edge of the bed,
and heard the clock strike 12.
Noon and . . . He had an en
gagement at two! He brightened at
the memory and, jumping up, pressed
an electric call button on the wall. By
the time lie had padded barefoot to (he
bathroom and turned on the cold-wa
ter tap, O'Hagan's knock summoned
him to the hall door.
"Back again, O’Hagan; and in a
desperate rush. I ll want you to shave
me and send some telegrams, please.
Must be off by 1:30. You may get out
my gray-striped flannels”—here he
paused, calculating his costume with
careful discrimination—"and a black
striped negligee shirt; gray socks;
russet low shoes; black and white
check tie—broad wings. You know
where to find them all?”
"Shure yiss, sor.”
O’Hagan showed no evidence of sur
prise; the eccentricities of Mr. Mait
land could not move him. who was in
ured to them through long association
and observation. He moved away to
execute his instructions, quietly ef
ficient, By the time Maitland had
finished splashing and gasping in the
bathtub everything was ready for the
ceremony of dressing.
In other words, 20 minutes later
Maitland, bathed, shaved, but still in
diessing gown and slippers, was seated
at liis desk, a cup of black coffee
steaming at his elbow, a number of
yellow telegraph blanks before him, a
pen poised between his fingers.
It was in his mind to send a wire
to Cressy, apologizing for his deser
tion of the night just gone, and an
nouncing his intention to rejoin the
party from which the motor trip to
New York had lieen as planned but a
temporary defection, in time for din
ner that same evening. He nibbled
the end of the penholder, selecting
phrases, then looked up at the at
tentive O'Hagan.
“Bring me a New Haven time table,
please,” he began, “and—”
The door bell abrupted his words,
clamoring shrilly.
‘‘What the deuce?" he demanded.
"Who can that be? Answer it, will
you. O'Hasan?”
He put down the pen. swallowed his
coffee, and lit a cigarette, listening to
the murmurs at the hall door. An in
slant later. O'Hagan returned, bearing
a slip of white pasteboard which he de
posited on the desk before Maitland.
“'James Burleson Snaith,’" Mait
land read aloud from the faultlessly
engraved card. "I don't know him
What does he want?"
"Wouldn't say. sor; seemed sur
prised whin I towld him ye were in,
an’ said he was glad to hear it—busi
ness pressin', says he.”
“ 'Snaith?' But I never heard the
name before. What does he look like?"
“A gintleinan. sor. be th’ clothes av
him an' th' way he talks.”
"Well . . . Devil take the man!
Show him in."
“Very good, sor.”
Maitland swung around in his desk
chair, his back to the window, expres
sic-n politely curious, as his caller en
tered the room, pausing, hat in hand,
just across the threshold.
He proved to be a man apparently
o' middle age, of height approximating
Maitland's; his shoulders were slightly
rounded as if from habitual bending
over a desk, his pose mild and defer
ential. By his eyeglasses and peering
look, he was near-sighted; by his
dress, a gentleman of taste and judg
ment as well as of means to gratify
both. A certain jaunty and summery
touch in his attire suggested a person
of leisure who had just run down from
his country place for a day in town.
His voice, when he spoke, did noth
ing to dispel the illusion.
"Mr. Maitland?" he opened the con
versation briskly. "I trust I do not
intrude? I shall be brief as possible,
if you will favor me with a private in
terview."
Maitland remarked a voice well mod
ulated and a good choice of words. He
rose courteously.
"I should be pleased to do so," ho
suggested, “if you could advance any
reason for such a request.”
Mr., Snaith smiled discreetly, fum
bling in his side pocket. A second slip
of cardboard appeared between his fin
gers as he stepped over toward Malt
land.
“If I had not feared it might deprive
me of this interview, I. should have
sent in my business card at once," he
said. “Permit me."
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Takes Romance From Tears
Weapon of the Heroine Coolly Ana
lyzed by French Chemist.
One does not care to have one's
tears analyzed like a patent food or
medicine, and to associate them with
chemical substances, but we are noth
ing if not practical nowadays, and
every shred of romance, poetry and
sentiment is remorselessly wrenched
from us for scientific purposes.
A French journal devoted to mat
ters of this kind has been telling us,
not only of what tears are composed,
but exactly the effect that is produced
on brain and body when we shed
them.
So henceforth when we read that
the heroine’s “beautiful eyes were suf
fused with tears." that “in a moment
she was weeping passionately on his
shoulder,” we shall know that by a
kind of shower-bath arrangement a
mixture of albuminoid, water and
chemical substances was let loose at
the back of her skull, thus dulling the
nerve centers, and really giving her re
lief.
However, it does not sound roman
tic, and mere man is likely to imagine
that the fair one is really suffering
doubly when all this happens.—Gentle
woman.
Patriotic Norwegian Barber.
Norway would appear to have made
very considerable strides in the Eng
lish tongue in the last 20 years, judg
ing from a notice that appeared on a
barber's door at the time the kaisei
visited Trondhjem in the '80s. It rar
as follows: “Important Noddis. Ladysh
and Shentlemuns and Beobles. In
consequents ob ze visit ob ze Kaiser
Wilhems I hab glosed de biznes on dis
ockhasion. Hare cuts and schafes and
all usuel Biznes 2 Morro Mornick. Bes
cur Vaterland. By Order,"
B1UDS
IfS'THH HIGHLANDS
PRDY
"\'s
m
TAW/VV OWL.
—W
Young . l one -hared, owl
•V
YOUffG P£fiEGRIM£ PALCCff
The distribution of birds of prey in
the Highlands at the present day fur
nishes a striking object-lesson in the
effects of protection on any given
species, says a writer in Country Life.
In the middle of last century, when
game preservation as a source of in
come began to be considered an asset
of the country, there were few sports
men who realized how easily and
quickly any non-migratory bird could
be exterminated. At that period
birds of prey were unquestionably too
numerous, and game could scarcely
have been expected to flourish under
such conditions. Our forfathers, per
haps better sportsmen than their de
scendants. skilled in ail manner of
woodcraft and content with small
bags obtained by their own unaided
efforts, were more tolerant and for
bearing towards the birds and beasts
of prey than we have since proved
ourselves to be. The rising value of
sport, however, marked the com
mencement of a relentless warfare
against all marauders other than man
himself, a warfare which has contin
ued to the present day and threatens |
to exterminate many of our most in
teresting species, wiiich, once van-'
ished, can never be replaced. The
position of many of our birds of prey
is a matter of the greatest concern !
to ornithologists and sportsmen alike, ;
for there are few sportsmen who
would knowingly exterminate a spe
cies whose members are already so !
few as to cause no concern to game
preserves. The harm done by the few ,
pairs of eagles, peregrines and buz
zards which still survive is not worth '
consideration, and the facr that most j
of their prey is obtained in the deer
iorests renders their presence desir- j
able, rather than otherwise, in many j
of the latter.
Of the British eagles, two species i
have already vanished, or almost van
ished. Experience shows that we
cannot hope for migrants to take their
place. The sea eagle Is now but rare
ly seen on our coasts, and the fishing
eagle, the graceful osprey, is no lon
ger a familiar feature of our inland
lochs. On some lone islet or surf
beaten rock an odd pair may survive,
but for most of us they are but mem
ories of the past, and never again
may we watch them as in days gone
by. The golden eagle is the only one
remaining to.us. For him alone of his
race protection came not in vain. The
preservation of this grand species is
the only bright spot in the history of
the British eagles. In some districts
the king of birds is actually increas
ing: almost everywhere he holds his
own. This is due entirely to the
action taken by proprietors to protect
the eyries, and to the courteous for
bearance shown towards the birds by
the great majority of shooting tenants
—forbearance which is. unfortunately,
not accorded to them in the south,
where the appearance of any large
bird of prey seems to be regarded as
the signal for its destruction. The
buzzard, in appearance closely re
sembling the golden eagle when on
the wing, though easily distinguished
by its smaller size, has in the past suf
fered for the sins of its bolder neigh
bors, for of all birds of prey this is
the least harmful to game; mice,
voles and carrion form its diet, and it
is probably quite incapable cf striking
dow-n any game-bird on the wing un
less the latter is weakly or wounded.
In flight slow and heavy and by na
ture a coward, common sense will
show us that the character of this
species quite belies its predatory ap
pearance. Yet In spite of these facts,
which have been proved times with
out number, keepers continue to shoot
these harmless birds on their migra
tion in autumn, the period when the
young birds, driven away by their
parents, are seeking fresh quarters.
If proprietors would include buzzards
in their orders for the protection of
eagles something might be gained. Of
all our birds of prey, the buzzard is,
at the present moment, most in need
of protection.
Two other species claim our atten
tion—the kestrel and the merlin, both
of which the writer has turned out in
considerable numbers during the last
few years. It is, indeed, a treat for
the bird-lover to see these lesser fal
cons losing their fear of man day by
day, to watch them from the window
hunting mice in the meadows below,
hovering, perhaps, within a few yards
of the watcher, then pouncing with
lightning swoop on some hapless
vole, pausing to devour their prey be
fore one's very eyes. To naturalists,
the. fact that the writer had three
kestrels' nests under observation
in 1908 in a small pine wood may be
of interest, as showing that there is
comparatively little antagonism be
tween individuals of this charming
species. In the case of one of these
the bold behaviour of the adult was
conspicuous, and the female would
almost allow me to handle her on the
nest. It was conjectured that she was
one of those liberated in tbe previous
year; one of a brood which had be
come exceptionally tame before being
released. With certain exceptions the
kestrel is always harmless to game.
In the case of 99 nests out of 100 the
kestrels will be found to be bringing
fur—i. e., mice, voles, etc.—to the
young, and the benefit thus conferred
on farmers Is enormous.
v\ ith merlins this is by no means
the case, and young grouse are often
the principal food of the family; but
at no other period of the year are
they destructive to game. Owing to
the fact that they nest on the ground
and in the most secluded places they
are not easy to locate, and to this
they often owe their safety. The num
bers of kestrels in the Highlands are
apparently on the increase, and it
seems now to be generally recognized
that they are worthy of encourage
meet. Both kestrels and merlins are
to some extent migratory, and the lat
ter seem less able to fend for them
selves when the ground i3 covered
with snow, departing southward at
the approach of winter. It is a curl
ous fact that grouse are aware that
the kestrel is harmless, and that the
cock grouse will boldly attempt tc
drive the “wind hover" away from nest
or brood should the little falcon ap
proach too near when hunting for
mice. On the approach of the pere
grine, however, he crouches close to
the ground, well knowing that no
courage will avail him here.
A few words in conclusion as to the
owds, of which we need only consider
three species—the tawny, the long
eared and the short-eared, for the
barn-owl, common in the south, is a
rara avis in the Highlands. The ap
pearance of the short-eared owls in
autumn marks the approach of win
ter. and the regularity with which
they arrive at the time of the flight
has earned for them the name of the
woodcock owl. A few of these remain
to breed with us, and in time more
may be induced to follow their ex
ample if they are carefully protected.
The Will That Compels.
Everything yields before the strong
and earnest will. It grows by exer
cise. it excites confidence in others,
while it takes to itself the lead. Dif
ficulties before which mere cleverness
fails, and which leave the irresolute
prostrate and helpless, vanish before
it. They not only do not impede its
progress, but it often makes them
ntepping-stenes to a higher and mon
enduring triumph.—Tulloch.
Defined.
“Pa. what is a legislative joker?”
“About the same thing as an extra
card up a man's cleeve in a poket
game.”
Thinking Deep Thoughts.
“I'll bet. that woman is a female re
former."
“What makes you think so?"
"She seems so unhappy.”
GOT HIS MORNING’S HOT MILK
Thoughtful Friend Turned the Trick
and Landlady received Credit
for Thoughtfulness.
"Living in a Doarding place is not
without its objections,” coniided VV. li
McCarthy to his friend over their
noonday lunch. "cor instance. I’d like
some hot milk in the morning. There s
no reason why 1 should have it,
health's good and r.ll that, but I’ve ta
ken a fancy u> hot milk for breakfast.
When 1 draw up to the table. I think
to myself how nice it would be if i
just had a bowl of hot milk. Cut if i
were to ask for it. every boarder in
the house would je wanting the same
thing. That's the waj it goes in a
bearding house. And 1 don't like to
make myself a nuisance to the land
lady. The rther day 1 said I'd like
seme toast No one else had (bought
oi such a thing oefore, but everybody
had to have some of my toast when it
came in. And there you are."
''Too bad McCarthy can't get a little
swallow of hot milk in the morning,"
thought McCarthy's friend as ne sat
at his desk that afternoon. "Mebby I
can fix things." He reached for the
phone and called up McCarthy's land
lady.
“This Is Mr. McCarthy’s physician,”
he told her. "I wish you would see
to it that he gets all the hot milk he
can drink every morning. (Jive it to
him instead of coffee or tea. You see
his nerves are in a bad way. and if h«
doesn't get hot milk for breakfast we' 1
have to send him ofT to a sanitarium.
Don’t say anything to him about me
calling Just see that he gets that ho",
milk. Thank you very much.”
And ever since then. McCarthy has
been bragging about what a mind
reader his landlady Is. “Just sort of
knows what I want almost as soon as
1 know myself,” he says. "Never saw
anpthing like it.'—Cleveland Plain
Dealer.
Extreme of Loneliness.
German proverb: U’ltnout a friend
the world is a wilderness.
j The
Exceptional
Equipment
of the California Fig Syrup Co. and the
scientific attainments of its chemists have
rendered possible the production of Syrup
of Figs and Elixir of Senna, in all of its
excellence, by obtaining the pure medic
inal principles of plants known to act most
beneficially and combining them most
skillfully, in the right proportions, with
its wholesome and refreshing Syrup of
California Figs.
As there is only one genuine Syrup of
Figs and Elixir of Senna and as the gen
uine is manufactured by an original
method known to the California Fig Syrup
Co. only, it is always necessary to buy tbs
genuine to get its beneficial effects.
A knowledge of the above facts enables
one to decline imitations or to return thee:
if, upon viewing the package, the full name
of theCalifornia Fig SyrupCo. is not found
printed on the front thereof.
“FAITH” ALL THAT WAS LEFT
Symbols of “Hope” and “Charity” Had
Got Away from Unfortunate Sun
day School Scholar.
A young Philadelphia Sunday school
teacher tells this story of the result
of an attempted application of the
principles of economics:
For some time she had endeavored
to impress upon the minds of one of
her charges the names of the three
qualities, faith, hope, and charity. One
Sunday she presented the pupil of the
poor memory with three new shining
coins, a penny, a five-cent piece, and
a dime.
“The penny,” she said, “represents
faith, the five-cent piece hope, and the
dime charity. Keep these coins and
every time you look at them think of
what they stand for.”
The Sunday following the teacher
reviewed the lesson of the w»eek be
fore, and called upon the holder of the
coins to produce them and give their
names in proper sequence. The
youngster shuffled from one leg to the
other, stammered, blushed and seemed
altogether overcome with mortifica
tion. Finally he burst out with:
“Please, Miss Fanny, I ain’t got
nuthin’ left but faith. Baby swal
lered hope, and mamma took charity
and bought ten cents’ worth of meat
ter make hamburg steak out uv.”
EXPRESSIVE REPLY,
Freddie—Your father told me that
i was the black sheep of the family.
Gertrude—What did you say?
Freddie—Bah!
A Test of Friendship.
Just before Artemus Ward's death
Robertson poured out some medicine
and offered it to the sick man, who
said: “My dear Tom. I won’t take
any more of that horrible stuff.”
Robertson urged him to swallow the
mixture, saying: “Do, now—there’s a
dear fellow—for my sake. You know
I would do anything for you.”
“Would you?" said Ward, feebly,
grasping his friend's hand for the last
time.
“I would indeed." said Robertson.
“Then you take it!”
Ward passed away a few hours aft
erward.—Recollections of the Ban
crofts.
Help for the Artists.
The comic supplements are filled
these days with pictures representing
some of the foolish questions that
people ask. Here is a suggestion lor
one:
A man was walking hastily through
the rain yesterday afternoon, his um
brella raised and his head bent. An
acquaintance, standing in a doorway,
hailed him:
“Say,” he shouted, “are you going
to use that umbrella? If you’re not,
lend it to me!”
Doesn’t that capture the icing?
PRESSED HARD
Coffee's Weight on Old Age.
When prominent men realize the in
jurious effects of coffee and the change
in health that Postuin can bring, they
are glad to lend their testimony for
the benefit of others.
A superintendent of public schools
in one of the southern states says:
"My mother, since her early child
hood, was on inveterate coffee drinker,
had been troubled with her heart for a
number of years and complained of
that 'weak all over’ feeling and sick
stomach.
‘‘Some time ago I was making an offi
cial visit to a distant part of the coun
try and took dinner with one of the
merchants of the place. 1 noticed a
somewhat peculiar flavour of the cof
fee, and asked him concerning it He
replied that it was Postum.
“I was so pleased with it, that after
the meal was over, I bought a package
to carry home with me, and had wife
prepare some for the next meal. The
whole family were so well pleased
with it, that we discontinued coffee
and used Postum entirely.
“I had really been at times very
anxious concerning my mother’s con
dition, but we noticed that after using
Postum for a short time, she felt so
much better than she did prior to Us
use, and had little trouble with her
heart and no sick stomach; that the
headaches were not so frequent, and
her general condition much improved.
This continued until she was as well
and hearty as the rest of us.
“I know Postum has benefited my
self and the other members of the
family, but not in so marked a de
gree as in the case of my mother, as
she was a victim of long standing."
Read, ‘‘The Road to Wellville,” in
pkgs. “There’s a Reason.”
Ever read the above letter? A new
one appear* from time to time. Ikrj
are genuine, true, and full of hocuui
interest.
