IS CHILD GROSS,
feverish, sick
Look, Mother:, If tongue is
coated, give “California
Syrup of Figs.”
Children love this “fruit laxative,”
and nothing else cleanse^ the tender
stomach, liver and bowels so nicely.
A child simply will not stop playing
to empty the bowels, and the result is
they become tightly clogged with
waste, liver gets sluggish, stomach
sours, then your little one becomes
cross, half-sick, feverish, don’t eat,
sleep or act naturally, breath is bad,
system full of cold, has sore throat,
stomach-ache or diarrhoea. Listen,
Mother! See if tongue is coated, then
give a teaspoonful of “California
Syrup of Figs.” and in a few hours all
the constipated waste, sour bile and
undigested food passeq out of the sys
tem, and you have a well child again.
Millions of mothers give “California
Byrug of Figs’’ because it is perfectly
harmless; children love it, and it nev
er fails to act on the stomach, liver
and bowels.
Ask at the store for a 50-cent bottle
of “California Syrup of Figs,” ;whlch
has full directions for babies, children
of all ages and for grown-ups plainly
printed on the bottle. Adv.
JUST TO COMPLETE BANQUET
Pathos in Youngster’s Longing That
Made Strong Appeal to Rich and
Charitable Man.
The late Edward Morris, the Chi
cago meat packer, was worth over $50,
000,000, and contributed every year to
charity as much money as he spent
upon his home.
Mr. Morris, like most charitable
souls, had a host of anecdotes that
threw a quaintly pathetic light on pov
erty. Thus at a Christmas dinner in
Chicago Mr. Morri^ once said:
“Every eater of a Christmas dinner
should think of the little urchin who
stood in front of a rich man’s base
ment kitchen, inhaling rapturously the
rich odor of roast turkey that gushed
forth from the open window, and mut
tering over and over to himself:
“ 'Gee, 1 wisht I had a slice o’ bread
to go with that there smell.'”
J A GRATEFUL OLD MAN.
Mr. W. D. Smith, Ethel, Ky., writes:
*1 have been using Dodd’s Kidney Pills
for ten or twelve years and they have
done me a great deal of good. I do
not think I would be
alive today If it
were not for Dodd’a
Kidney Pills. I
strained my back
about forty years
ago, which left it
very weak. I was
| troubled with inflam
mation of the blad
W. D. Smith. ,jer Dodd’s Kidney
Pills cured me of that and the Kidney
Trouble. I take Dodd’s Kidney Pills
now to keep from having Backache. I
am 77 years old and a farmer. You are
at liberty to publish this testimonial,
and you may use my picture in con
nection with it.” Correspond with Mr.
Smith about this wonderful remedy.
Dodd’s Kidney Pills, 50c. per box at
your dealer or Dodd’s Medicine Co.,
Buffalo, N. Y. Write for Household
Hints, also music of National Anthem
(English and German words) and reci
pes for dainty dishes. All 3 sent ire*.
Adv.
Natural Kind.
“I caught a firebug yesterday.”
“A confirmed criminal?”
“No; a glowworm.”
Step that cough, the source of Pneumonia,
etc. Prompt use of Dean's Mentholated
Cough Drops gives relief—5c at Druggists.
Occasionally a man gets up with
the lark so that he can take a swallow
before breakfast.
If a man gets the last word in an ar
gument with a woman it is because
she gives it to him.
WHY GRIP IS DANGEROUS.
It is an Epidemic Catarrhal Fevar
Caused by a Bacillus that Gener
ally Leaves the Patient Weak
After the Acute Stage
Has Pawed.
Grip Patients Grateful to Peruna, the
Expectorant Tonie.
Do not make the error of regarding
grip a* an exaggerated cold. There
Is a big difference between the two.
Grip Is an epidemic disease that poi
sons the vital organs. When a per
son has grip, the air passages are
alive with millions of bacilli poison
ing the blood. The infected person
feels tired and exhausted.
Peruna ie a Tonie Laxative.
It requires a good tonic laxative to
keep the body of the patient as strong .
as possible to counteract the effect o£
the poisons created by the grip bacil
lus. An expectorant tonic with soma
laxative qualities is the safest rem
edy. Such is Peruna. Beware es
pecially of coal tar powders or tablets
because they lessen the vitality of the
patient
There is no specific for the grip.
Peruna has been used with good
success in former grip epidemics. In
dications point to the return of grip
this winter.
Do not fall to read the experience
Of former grip patients with Peruna.
Mrs. Gentry Gates, 8219 First Ave,
Bast Lake. Ala., writes: "I had a
bad case of grip. I tried Peruna and
it cured me I can safely say it is a
fine medicine.”
Mrs. Charles E. Wells, Sr„ 230
South St.. Delaware, Ohio, writes:
"After a severe attack of la grippe I
took Peruna and found It a good
tonic.**
Ask Your Druggist tor Free Peraaa
Lucky Day Almanac tor 1914.
A m
v
/m—^
Ellsworth Ycrang J
_
SYNOPSIS.
The story opens with Jesse Smith re
lating the story of his birth, early life in
Labrador and of the death or his father.
Jesse becomes a sailor. His mother mar
ries the master of the ship and both are
lost in the wreck of the vessel. Jesse
becomes a cowboy in Texas. He marries
Polly, a singer of questionable morals,
who later is reported to have committed
suicide. Jesse becomes a rancher and
moves to British Columbia. Kate Trevor
takes up ths narrative. Unhappily mar
ried she contemplates suicide, but changes
her mind after meeting Jesse. Jesse res
cues Kate from her drink-maddened hus
band who attempts to kill her. Trevor
loses his life In the rapids. Kate rejects
offers of grand opera managers to return
to the stage and marries Jesse. Their
married life starts out happily. Kate suc
cumbs to the pleadings of a composer to
raturn to the stage and runs away with
him. She rescues Widow O’Flynn from
her burning house. Is badly burned her
self and returns home, where Jesse re
ceives her with open arms. Jesse calls
on neighbors and plans to capture cattle
thieves. Kate is rescued from the hands
of the bandits. Jesse Is captured by the
robbers, but by a clever ruse makes pris
oners of the robbers. They are turned
over to a United States marshal, who has
arrived with extradition papers Jesse
takes charge of the outlaw chief’s son.
Billy O’Flynn, having promised the chief
to keep him out of his father’s profession.
He takes Billy to Vancouver and the
lad Is shanghaied. A son Is bom to Kate
and Jesse and'Is named David. Jesse re
ceives a letter from his first wife. Polly,
in which she tells him she deceived him
into thinking she had killed herself. She
threatens to come to him.
CHAPTER XIV.—Continued.
The father released me, turning to
my dear man. “Jesse,” he said, "won’t
you shake hands with me?
“You see,” he said, "I made a mis
take myself, thinking a priest should
be celibate to win love from on high.
But in its fullest strength God's love
comes through a woman to shine upon
our life—and so I’ve missed the great
est of his gifts. Your wife has told
me everything, and I’m so envious.
Won't you shake hands? I’ve been so
lonely. Won't you?”
But my man stood in the mouth of
the cave, as though he were being
judged.
“This filth,” he said, “out of the past.
Filth!”
His voice sounded as though he
were dead.
“The law,” he said. "I’ve come to
find out what's the law?”
“Man’s law?”
“I suppose so.”
“But I don’t know. I’m only a very
ignorant old man; your friend, if
you’ll have me.”
"What do you think?”
“So far as I see, Jesse, the woman
can arraign you on a charge of big
amy. Moreover, if you seek divorce
she can plead that there’s equal guilt,
from which there's no release.”
“And that’s the law?”
“Man’s law. But, Jesse, when you
and Kate were joined In holy matri
mony. was it man’s law which said,
’Whom God hath joined, let no man
put asunder.’ What has man’s law to
do with the awful justice of Almighty
God?
“And here, my son, I am something
more than a foolish old man.” He
rose to his feet, making the sign of
the cross. "I am ordained," he said, “a
barrister to plead at the bar of
Heaven. Will you not have me as your
adviser, Jesse?"
“Whom God hath Joined,” Jesse
laughed horribly, “that harlot and I.”
“She swore to love, honor and
obey?”
“Till death us part!"
"And that was perjury?"
"A joke! A joke!”
“That was not marriage, my son,
but blasphemy, the sin beyond forgive
ness. The piteous lost creature has
never been your wife."
“I told her what she is, straight
from the sho’-lder.”
“Who made her so?”
Jesse lowered his head.
“Who made her the living accusa
tion of men’s sins? She is the terrible
state’s evidence, God’s evidence,
which waits to be released in the Day
of Judgment. You told her straight
from the shoulder. Judge not that ye
be not judged. Remember that of all
the men she knew on earth, you only
can plead not guilty."
“Because I married her?" asked
Jesse humbly.
“Because you tried. You gave her
your clean name, your pure life, your
manhood, an act of knightly chivalry.
“Only a cur would blame the weak.
Only a coward would accuse the lost.
But in your manhood remember her
courage, Jesse. Forgive as you hope
for pardon. Keep your life clean, from
every touch of evil, but to the world
stand up for the honor of the name
you gave her.”
“I will.”
"You forgive?”
“Yes."
"You will pray for her?"
“I will pray.”
"And now the hardest test has still
to come. For your wife’s honor and for
the child, you must keep their names
stainless, clear of all reproach while
you await God's judgment. They must
leave you, Jesse.”
“Oh, not that, sir!”
"Can they stay here In honor?”
“No.”
“Can you run away?"
"Never!”
“Then you must part."
Jesse covered his face with his
hands, and there against the deepen
ing twilight I saw shadows reaching
out from him, as though—slowly the
shadows took form of high-shouldered
wings and mighty pinions sweeping
to the ground.
He looked up, and behold he was
changed.
“Pray for me, sir!" e whispered.
Then the priest raioed his hand, and
gave him the benediction.
Jesse Closes the Book.
It is years now since my lady left
me. Never has an ax touched her
trees, or any human cmature entered
her locked house. The rustle of her
dresB is In the leaves each fall, the
pines still echo to her voice. I hear
her footsteps over the new snow, I
feel her presence when I read her
books. I know her thoughts are spir
its haunting me, and all things wait
until she comes back. Not until I lost
my lady did I ever hear that faint,
thin, swaying echo when her grove
seemed to be humming tunes. At times
when dew was falling, I have heard
the pattering of millions and millions
of little feet, just as she said, making
the grass bend.
Tears drop on the paper and shame
poor fool Jesse. The Book says that
He shall wipe away all tears. If my
bear had only lived, I should not have
been so lonely. I wonder if—God help
me, I can't write more. The book is
finished.
PART THREE.
CHAPTER I.
Spite House.
Kate Reviews the Book.
The book is not finished. This book
of Jesse’s life and mine is not finished
while she who set us asunder is al
lowed to live. “Vengeance is mine,”
saith the Lord, “I will repay.” We
wait.
What impulse moved my man after
four years to enter that tragic house?
He read our book, so piteously stained,
this heap of paper scrawled with rusty
ink. He added parts of a chapter,
which I have finished. It is all blotted
with tears, this record of his life—
childhood, boyhood, youth, manhood,
humor, passion—veritable growth of
“Then You Must Part.”
an immortal spirit—annals of that love
r which lifteth us above the earth—and
then!
So I must try to catch up happiness.
I have notes here of dear Father
Jared, made at the time when he was
bringing me with Baby David home. I
remember we sat in our deck chairs
on the sunny side of the ship, watch
ing a cloud race out in mid-Atlantic.
We talked of home.
Fro^all End, where my saint Is
curate-ln-charge, is on the river near
Windsor, and there I went to live with
Baby David.
From the first my Heaven-born was
interested in milk, later in a growing
number of worldly things, but it was
V * >«.
not until last winter by the fireside
that we really had ^serious tales all
about Wonderland.
Although David has decided to be a
tram conductor, he still takes some
little interest in other walks of life.
Once on the tow-path he asked an old
gentleman who was fishing what he
was fishing for, and got the nice re
ply: “I often wonder.” And it was on
this path beside the Thames, that one
day last November he made a hig
friendship. His nurse was passing a
few remarks with a young man who
asked the way to my house, and baby
went ahead pursuing his lawful occa
sions. Curious to know tyhat It felt
like to be a real fish, be was stepping
into the river to see about it, when
the' young man interfered.
“Leggo my tail,” said David wrath
fully, then wjfh sudden defiance, "1
got my feet wet anyway, so there!”
"That's so.” the young man agreed.
“I say.” David grew confident,
i “Mummie says it's in the paper, so
it’s all right.”
“What's that, sonny?”
“A little boy what went In to see
about some fishes, and that man what
swum and swum, and I saw'd his pic
ture in the paper. So now 'tend you
look de udder way.”
“Why, I can’t see nothen.”
“You can see. The game is for me
to jump in, and you swim.”
“But I can’t swim. I'm a sailor.”
“Oh, weally? Then what’s your
name?”
“It’s Billy O’Flynn.”
“No, but that's weally my guinea
pig, the pink one—Billy O’Flynn.
You’re not a fairy, Billy?”
“Why, what does you know about
fairies?"
“Most truthfully, you know, I don’t
believe in fairies, but then it pleases
mummie.”
So Billy sat on his heel making
friends with the heaven-born, and
Patsy, the nurse, came behind him,
craving with cotton-gloved hands to
touch the sailor's crisp, short, golden
hair, and David gravely tried on the
man’s peaked cap.
“Yes.” Billy agreed, ‘fairies is rot
when there’s real gals abrtit, with rosy
cheeks a-blushin’ an’ cotton gloves.”
“Lawks! 'Ow you sailors does fancy
yourselves," said Patsy, her shy fin
gers drawn by that magnetic gold of
the man’s hair.
“Climb on my back and ride," said
young O'Flynn to David. “I’ll be a
fairy horse.”
“The cheek of ’im!" jeered Patsy,
“fairy 'orse indeed!”
Oh, surely the fairies were very
busy about them, tugging at heart
strings, while Billy and Patsy fell head
over ears in love, and my pet cupid
had them both for slaves. David rode
Billy home, by his august command
straight into my brown study, where
I sat in my lazy chair.
Was It my voice telling baby to go
and get dry feet? Was it my hand
grasping Billy’s horny j>aw? For I
heard my roaring canybn, saw my
cliffs, my embattled sculptured cliffs,
and once more seemed to walk with
Jesse in Cathedral Grove.”
I laughed, I cried. Oh, yes, of
course I made a fool of myself. For
this dear lad came out of Wonderland,
this heedless ruffian who knew of my
second marriage, who had such a tale
to tell of “Madame Scotson.” Oh,
haven’t you heard? Her precious
Baby David is illegitimate! Couldn’t
I hear my neighbor, Mrs. Pollock tell
ing that story at the Scandal club?
Feeling ill-bred and common, I
begged Billy’s pardon, made him sit
down, tried ever so hard to put him
at his ease. Poor lad! His father
condemned as a felon, his mother such
a wicked old harridan, his life, to say'
the very least, uncouth. Yet some
how out of that rough savage face
shone the eyes of a gentleman, and
there was manliness in all he said, in
everything he did. After that great
journey for my sake, how could I let
him doubt that he was welcome?
“I know I’m rough,” he said hum
bly, “but you seem to understand.
You know I’m straight. You won’t
mind straight talk unless you’re
changed, and you're not changed—at
least not that way, mum.”
Changed! Ah, how changed! The
looking glass had bitter things to
tell me, and crying makes me such a
frump, I never felt so plain. And the
eyes of a young man are often brutally
frank to women. *
“Don’t mind about me, Billy. Say
what you’ve come to tell me.”
“Been gettin’ it ready to say ever
since I started for England. Look
LEAVE CONDIMENTS TO CHEF
Visiting Frenchman Bitterly Criticises
American Habit of Salting Food
Placed Before Them.
“Tt It easy to see that most of these
multimillionaires don’t know what de
cent cooking is.”
And the French countess, shrugging
ler white and pretty shoulders, let
Jier eyes rove disdainfully over the
Newport dinner table, with it orchids
and its gold plate.
“Why do you say that, madame?”
a multimillionaire Inquired.
"Because,” rejoined the countess,
“the minute a dish is set before you
you all rain salt on it. Tou all, with
out exception, rain salt on every dish.”
"Well?" said the multimillionaire as
he rained salt calmly and generously
upon his chaufroid de gibier. "Well,
what of it?"
"There, look at you,” cried the
countess, "salting a chaufroid de gi
bier, to which a chef has devoted six
or seven hours of his best talent! And
you salt it without even tasting it
> |rst! That is to say, you are used to
»
bad cooking, to unseasoned cooking,
that as a matter of course you take
this cooking to be bad.
“Mon ami,” said the countess im
pressively, "when a chef sees a diner
salt or pepper a dish he’s In despair—
he’e In despair as a painter would be
if the purchaser of hts painting took
up a brush and added a little more
green to the grass or a little more blue
to the sky.
“Good French cooking needs no ad
ditional seasoning at table. They who
season It, like you multimillionaires,
without so much as tasting it first,
don't know what good French cooking1
is. Were I a chef I’d rather work in
a Marseilles eightrsou table d’hote
than In your kitchens of marble and
gU“" _____
Touched Her Sympathy.
A kind-hearted lady was collecting
for the Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Children. She paid a se
ries of house-to-house visits, and at
one door her knock was answered by
a rather stupid-looking servant, says
Pearson's Weekly.
The lady explained her errand; that
she was collecting small sums for the
funds of the Society for the Preven
tion of Cruelty to Children, but the
girl found this title rather too much
of a mouthful. She went upstairs to
the nursery, where her mistress was
hard at work bathing and dressing
half a dozen lively, shouting children,
and trying at the same time to coax
the recently arrived baby to go to
sleep, and announced: "Please’m,
there’s somebody at the door collect
in' for the Society for the Prevention
of Children.”
The worried mother sent down a
willing donation of half a dollar.
Not a Biography.
During a lull in the dinner conver
satlon the hostess turned to the fa
mous traveler and author, who was
the Hon of the occasion, and said:
“I enjoyed reading your book so
much. Now tell me honestly, did yon
reaUy encounter all those wonderful
adventures you narrate?”
“No, Indeed,” replied the traveler in«
a hurst of confidence. “If I had I’d
never have lived to writs about
them." I
0
. -.< 1 .
here, mum, I want to go back to the
beginning, to when I was a kid, an’
mother kep’ that hash house in Abi
lene. D’ye mind if I speak—I mean
about this here Polly?”
I set my teeth and hoped he would
be quick.
“Well, ye see, mum, she only done it
for a joke, and the way Jesse treated
her—”
“I can’t hear this.”
“You don’t mind if I say that moth
er and me haven’t no use for Jesse?”
“I know that.”
“Well, mother put her up to the
Idea. To get shut of him, she sham
med dead. I helped. I say she done
right, mum. If she'd let it go at that
I’d take her side right now.”
“Billy, was that a real marriage?”
“It was that. She’s Jesse's wife all
right.”
There was something which braced
me in his callous frankness. “I hoped,”
I said. “Go on.”
“Well, mother hated Jesse some
thin’ chronic. Afterward when—well,
she had to run for the British posses
sions, and we met up with Jesse again
by accident. He give us a shack and
some land, but mother an’ me had our
pride. How would you like to take
charity? Mother hated him still
worse, and don’t you imagine I'd go
back on her. She’s my mother.
“Then you married Jesse. Of course
mother and me both knew that Polly
was alive. Father knew, too—and
I Began to Understand What Billy
Meant.
father was around when no one but us
ever seen him. We knew that Polly
was alive, and mother would have
given Jesse dead away, only we stop
ped her. Father said it was none of
our business. Father liked Jesse, I
thought the world of you, so when
mother wrote to Polly, we'd burn her
letters.”
What an escape for usl
“Then you saved mother from burn
ing in that shack, and afterward she
hated Jesse worse, because she
couldn't hit him for fear of hurting
you. Oh, she was mad because she'd
got fond of you.
"And you took us into your ranch.
Charity again, and you sailin’ under
Protestant colors, both of yez. The
way mother prayed for Jesse was
enough to scorch his bones.” Billy
chuckled. “I ain’t religious—I drink,
and mother’s professiil’ Catholic cuts
no figure with me.
“Then there’s the flghtin’ between
father’s gang and Jesse’s: Dad got
hung, Jesse got the dollars. Rough,
common, no-account, white trash, like
mother an’ me, hears Jesse expound
ing the Scriptures. We ain't got no
feelings same as you.”
Poor lad! Poor savage gentleman!
“You saved me from murdering
Jesse and got me away from that
ranch. Since then I’ve followed the
sea. There’s worse men' there than
Jesse. I seen worse grub, worse treat
ment. worse times in general since I
quit the ranch. Five yearB at sea—”
There was the glamour, the great
ness of the sea in this lad’s eyes, Just
as in Jesse's eyes. Sailors may be
rugged, brutal, fierce—not vulgar.
Men reach out into spaces where we
sheltered women cannot follow.
“Suppose I’ve grown,” said Billy.
"Well, mum, I got a notion to go home.
Signed as A. B. in a four-masted bark
Clan Innes out o’ Glasgow, for Vancou
ver with general cargo. I quit her at
Vancouver, made Ashcroft by C. P. R.,
blind baggage mostly, then hit the
road afoot. I thought I’d take my de
parture from the Fifty-Nine.”
‘‘The old bush trail?”
“Hard goin’, but then I expected, of
course, mother’d be there at the
ranch, and you, -mum, an’ Jesse, of
course, and—”
“You must nave found things
changed when you got to the ranch."
“Didn’t get there. I’d news at Hat
Creek, and kep’ the road main north.
Mother wasn't at the ranch any more.
She’d poisoned Jesse's bear. Oh, mum,
I don’t want to hurt.”
“Go on, dear lad.”
“Mother’d took up with Polly at
Spite House.”
‘Spite House?”
“It’s the Ninety-Nine Mile House.
There's a sign board right across the
road:
THE NINETY-NINE
MRS. JESSE SMITH
HOTEL, STORE, LIVERY.
"She did that to spite Jesse, and
they call the place Spite House.”
Spite House! How right Father Ja
red was. ‘Sword versus dragon,” he
told us, ‘‘is heroic; sword versus
cockroach is heroics. Don’t draw your
sword on a cockroach.”
This much I tried to explain to
young O’Flynn, whose Irish blood has
a fine sense of humor. But the smile
he gave me was one of pity, turning
my heart to ice. “Jesse,” he said,
“made that mistake. That’s why I’ve
come six thousand miles to warn you.
Howly Mother, if I'd only the eddica
tion to talk so I'd be understood!
"I’m going to try another course.
See here, mum. You’ve heard tell of
Cachalot whales. They runs say
eighty tons for full whales—one hun
dred fifty horsepower, dunno how
many knots, full of fight to the last
drop of blood. That stands for
Jesse.
“And them sperm whales is so con
temptuous of the giant squid they uses
her for food. She’s small along of a
sperm whale, but she’s mean as eight
python snakes with a devil in the
middle. That’ll do for Polly.
“Well, last voyage I seen one of
them she-nightmares strangle a bull
Cachalot, and the sight turned me
sick as a dog. Now, d’ye understand
what Polly’s doing? I told you I hated
Jesse. I told you straight to your face
why I hated him. And now, mum, I'm
only sorry for poor Jesse.”
It was then, I think, that I began
really to be terrified. Never in thl
old days at the ranch had Billy been
off his guard even with me. Now he
let me know his very heart. I could
not help but trust him, and it was no
small uneasiness which had brought
the lad to England.
"Them devil-squids, he was saying,
“has a habit of throwing out ink to fog
the water, so you won't see what
they're up to until they lash out to
grapple. That’s where they’re so like
this Polly. She’s a fat, hearty, good
natured body, and it’s the surest fact
she’s kind to men in trouble. Any
body can have a drink, a meal and a
bed, no matter how broke he is; and
Spite House is free hospital for the
district. She’ll sit up night nursing a
sick man, and, till I went an’ lived
there, I’d have sworn she was good
as they make ’em. That’s the ink.
"Then you begins to find out, and
what I didn’t see, mother would tell
me. She’d been three years there.
Besides, I seen most of what we calls
sailor towns, and I’d thought I’d
known the toughest there was in the
way of boardin’ houses; but rough
house in ’Frisco itself is holiness com
pared with what goes on there under
the sign of Mrs. Jesse Smith. That
name ain’t exactly clean.”
“That’s enough, I think, if you don’t
mind. I’d rather have news about our
old friends—Captain Taylor, for in
stance, and Iron Dale, and how is dear
Doctor McGee?”
"Dear Doctor McGee, is it? Well,
you see he lived within a mile of Polly.
She got him drlnkin’, skinned him at
cards, then told him he’d best shoot
himself. The snow drifts through his
house.
“And Iron Dale? Oh, of course, he
was Jesse’s friend, too. I’d forgot.
She got him drunk and went through
him. That money was for paying his
hands at the Sky-line—wasn’t his to
lose, so he skipped the country. The
mines closed down and there wasn’t
no more packing contracts for Jesse.”
I began to1 understand what Billy
meant, and it was with sick fear I
asked concerning my dear man’s
stanchest friend, his banker, Captain
Boulton Taylor.
“You’d better know, mum." There
was pain in the lad's face, reluctance
in his voice. “Being the nearest mag
istrate, he tried to down Polly for
keeping a disorderly house. But then,
as old man Taylor owned, he didn’t
know enough law to plug a rat hole.
There ain’t no municipality, so Spite
House is outside the law. But Polly’s
friends proved, all the good she done
to men who was hurt, or sick, or
broke. Then she showed up how her
store and hotel was cutting into the
trade of Hundred Mile House. She
brung complaints before the govern
ment, so Taylor ain’t magistrate n<>w.
The stage stables got moved from
Hundred Mile to Spite House. The
post-office had to follow. Now he’s
alone with only a Chinaman. He’s
blind as a bat, too, and there’s no two
ways about it—Bolt Taylor's dying.”
“Is there no justice left?”
Dunno about that. She uses a lot
of law.”
I dared not ask about Jesse. To sit
still was impossible, to play caged
tiger up and down the room would
only be ridiculous. Still. Billy’s pois
onous tobacco excused the opening of
a window, so I stood with my back
turned, while a November night closed
on the river and the misty fields.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Handsome Is as Handsome Does.
Sanford—So you don't believe in
judging a man by his clothes?
Crabshaw—No, indeed! That’s the
portion of a good man’s life." The
way we judge a woman, and look how
we get fooled !—Judge.
GROUP OF ACTIVE MUSCLES
Wonderful Piece of Anatomy Is the
Tongue—Proof of Man’s Descent
From Vegetarians.
«
The tongue Is really a group of
muscles, some running from root to
tip, others crossways. Any one of
these muscles can be used separately
or in combination with the others, so
that we can move tbe whole tongue in
any direction—lengthen or shorten it,
hollow or arch it
Tbe tongue is moistened by the
mucous made by the mucous mem
brane that lines the mouth and by
saliva from the salivary glands. The
mucous of the mouth is controlled by
the nervous system and can be great
ly disturbed by worry or fear. That
is why when we are very much wor
ried or suddenly frightened our
mouths become so dry we can hardly
swallow.
The surface of the tongne is close
ly covered with little points. In each
one of these points is the end of a
nerve of taste that runs from the
brain to the tongue; These Uttle
points are called taste bulbs, and
they are most abundant on the sides
and the tip of the tongue. They are
fewer on the back of the tongue, be
cause that part of it is used mainly
to roll food and throw it into the
throat.
The human tongue is compara
tively smooth, showing we are de
scended from creatures that were
vegetarian. A tiger’s tongue is so
rough it will draw blood if you allow
him to lick your hand. The tongues
of all carnivorous animals are armed
with a number of small, sharp projec
tions that curve backward.—Chicago
Journal.
Where She Was Wobbly.
Edith is very timid bnt she tries to
do her duty, and not long since recit
ed a “piece” before some school visit
ors with great credit and apparent
calmnesB. Her mother, later compli
mented and praised her, especially for
not seeming at all nervous. “Oh, but
I was scared, really, mamma,” the
child explained Ingenuously. “1 held
my hands still, but you should have
seen my knees."
First in
Everything
First in Quality
First in Results
First in Purity
First in Economy
and for these reason*
Calumet Baking
Powder is fitst in the
hearts of the millions
of housewives who
use it and know it.
RECEIVED HIGHEST AWARDS
World's Poro Food Espooitioo.
teStr-caite*
1112.
T*i In'lan mover wWea y»a Wj_tW* ar lira
h*hi^rad.r.| tWtfaiajlU- h’i
cliumei U tar mill to war Milk tai uda.
Disgusted.
Church—Did the lecturer fire his
audience?
Gotham—No; the audience “fired"
him.
STOMAGHMiSERY
GAS. JiESTION
“Pape’s Diapepsin” fixes sick,
sour, gassy stomachs in
five minutes.
Time it! In five minutes all stomach
distress will go. No indigestion, heart
burn, sourness or belching of gas, acid,
or eructations of undigested food, no
dizziness, bloating, or foul breath.
Pape's Diapepsin is noted for its
speed in regulating upset stomach;
It is the surest, quickest and most cer
tain indigestion remedy in the whole
world, and besides it is harmless.
Please for your sake, get a large
flfty-cent case of Pape’s Diapepsin
from any store and put your stomach
right. Don’t keep on being miserable
—life is too short—you are not here
long, so make your stay agreeable.
Eat what you like and digest it; en
joy it, without dread of rebellion ia
the stomach.
Pape's 4 Diapepsin belongs in your
home anyway. Should one of the fam
ily eat something which don't agree
with them, or in case of an attack of
indigestion, dyspepsia, gastritis or
stomach derangement at daytime or
during the night, it is handy to give
the quickest relief known. Adv.
And a woman’s clothes are always
on her mind—even when on her back.
WiQyykMagH/Y/centl
\\RECORCp CrODS in aIJ\
K<±*&Wesfen7 Canada]
I Ail part* of the Provinces of « ■
Manitoba, Saskatchewan and »|
Alberta, have produced won- SM
derfu] yields of Wheat, Oats, 0
, Bariev and Flax. Wheat graded W
from Contract to No. 1 Hard. l!J
weighed heavy and yielded from 20 I
to 45 bushels per acre; 22 bushels was 'Jj
(I about the total average. Mixed Farm- il >1
W. ina may be considered fully as profit- Ul
Y able an industry as grain raising. The 'Mj
y excellent grasses full of nutrition, are 'fit!
' the only food required either for beef %r
or dairy purposes. In 1912, and again in TO
1913. at Chicago. Manitoba carried off £
the Championship for beef steer. Good J
schools, markets convenient, climate ex- J|
cellent. For the homesteader, the man M
who wishes to farm extensively, or the
investor. Canada offers the biggest op- fl
port unity of any place on the continent, jf
Apply for descriptive literature and I
reduced railway rate* to
Superintendent of /a
Immigration, _^rfTaP
Ottawa, Canada, or to |
W.V. BENNETT
Ban Building
Omaha, Neb,
Canadian I ■ I
Government Agent L^UilU
The Army of
Constipation
Is Growing Smaller Every Day.
CARTER'S LITTLE
LIVER PIUS are
responsible— they
not only give relief A'
— they perma
nently cure Cm-j
stipation. Mil-,,
lions use,
them for
Bilieuneti,
ml
Carters
VITTLE
■ IVER
JPiLLS.
Indigestion, Sick HeotUcke, Sallow Skk.
SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICE.
Genuine must bear Signature
READERS to b^'aayUUngsOror^
Used In Its colooms ahcold Insist upon baring wbai
tbcr sat tor. refusing all substitutes or Imitations.