HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1894-03-30, Page 66
TI I E WIN t1..Vti .7'i2I4CH 30,, Kalli•
110-34((-11
AAr
)k4J,�s = � YE KATL JO1DAN '
,11"1,,.,.,--,-,.-y".
I! (.. 1.,,, �'�+o�poG?o.G.oG oGaOOOoc�.�''
Ill]•.
I
f
r >4 �
. is fi 1893 Y,.1.. PPI �CQT f,0 P N`�.
1 % �U T
�, OPY� Ut1
'D PUDl.I511ED DY SPECIAL'•4RCit4N(MOT WITtt TrefErg
den, sickening awakening to the nature
and consequences of his act, a shame
and hatred of himself. fie was a thiel
in the commonest sense.
When the horse was pulled up at the
curb before his door. it was almost a
shock. He had been sitting upright, hie
hands gratspiugthe apron of the hansoms,
tooling straight ahead, but blind, not
even aware that it had commenced to
rain.
Delatole called to him • as he went
down the hall. He paid no heed, and
entering his study flung himself into a
chair. His face was clammy and wan.
Something must be done. Whati
What could he say when Felix Dawson
faced him? What defense could ho
make? That. he was coming he was ab-
solutely sure. He must be near now.
Perhaps in five minutes he would cross
the threshold. Suppose Delatole heard
him. Suppose the blow fell that after-
noon,
He sat absolutely still, his eyes fixed
upon the door, his veins holding a fluid,
icy terror instead of blood.
At last, to his intense relief, Delatole
thrust in his head, saying:
"Aro you going to dine here? Well,
P11 he back in time to have a demi-
twee with you. 1 want ,to see you.
Dca't go ont."
The danger of betrayal over for the
moment. Tom breathed more freely.
Be nested to the window and flung it
up. letting the rain. dash upon his face. '
The renos in his brain was rent sud-
denly ey one sententious thought:
""cuts nett you dread hats no proof."
No Proof The words sang in his
brain. tiletie.ltided trees creaked them,,
thevt,.;.1 t... ,ued us glee '
-1.)01}. hna Uafeait him Ele is power-
less Yc.n are strong."
T:;a but: is the passage. gave a whis-
pering tinkle. Toil turned. scarcely
surprised. Tile. moment had come.
"Mr. Murray. sir, a gentleman to 'see
yoi," said the. English valet.
"Show him in here. If any one else
comes, I'm out.' Remember."
He was lighting a etr:u witb :un arSoc.
tation of catrelszes ii'ss. his back to tat'
door as the visitor uttered. In r.ali.y
his muscles were braced to a peief :1
rigidity, his fare wee .greet,::;h ':..:tin.
He was prepared to tiouy tate a :11:tragi ab-
solutely, to decry the main as mad. •
"No proof. No copy. No oy't, saw
you It is your word against hie." .
.:raced by a dodged, pa esionleas ase.
snrauce in the stability of the lie on
which he had surely budded, he looked
Felix Dawson in the eyes, and then.lais
plats of defense shriveled, his heart
melted within him for very pity.., This
was not an accusercolae to dein:ttid.4ns
tice. This was a man in whom the sires
of life had died. Hie eyes were graves
of dead illusions. :;o might one look
who bad parted with bope and stood
with outstretched, . n:pty hand's, crying;
eta tate, _Ii tones of iia.:tittered triumph:
• "Pans by tale now Leave me' free.
You nave taken all." '
:'You remember ane?" And his quiet
voice was peculiarly sud and strong.
Tout stood like one arraigned before a
supeI•ior, at judge
"Yes. l do."
"A long tinge ago I left a play with
you, This afternoon 1 saw it acted at ,
Palliser's theater, .your name on the pro.
gratnute as its aauthor.'
This was the moment of supreme dis-
simulation and Tom knew it. All the
ani forces within him were roused to a
iu.i throbbing sense of self preservation.
tr But lie could not lis to hfin, He could
be very wicked but for one strain in-
herent in bis nature. The waywardness
rolled like a sea, only to break upon this
as upon a bar and surge back strength-
less and abortive. No, he could not lie
to him, iris glance wavered, the cigar
dropped from his trembling fingers, he
moved a little nearer Felix Dawson, his
heart in his eyes.
"What will you do? Wait before you
epeak. Hear me'." Ile stopped sudden-
ly, pierced to the heart, "My God!
what must you think of me?"
"What do I think of you?" asked Daw-
son, the low, resonant voice suddenly
quivering with contempt. "I would not
touch your hand for all the money in
the world if I starved tomorrow. You
seem to me like a rich man who searches
through a beggar's rags and steals his
last coin. You are utterly detestable to
Me. You coward. You thief!"
Tom started and flung back his head.
"No. Ian not that. I'm not what yon
believe. 1 didn't rob you of your one
possession and add it to my many. I
took it when 1 was mad with despair.
Yon must believe me ---you must. It
was here in this very room," and he held
etas his arms, looking around the place,
sets altnolttt childish pleading in his eyes.
i I Baur failed. I ac -
Opted defeat with what agony perhaps
'ice tient taw, It wan then breed yonr
play for the first time ore than eye=
ear
had passed since you left it, and I thought
you dead. It would mean nothing to
you, everything to me. I took it. i ask
yon again. what will you dor
There was understanding in Felix
Dawson's eyes. but no sufte niug, His
heart was like a wrung out sponge—it
knew no extremes. The one passion left
lull was a morbid love far the play he
lead written.
-Poor, wronged dead leen, They can-
not all come back as 1 have done. But
unfortunately for you," he said. with a
slight curl of his lip, '•1 vas not dead. I
carne Here three times hi the stunner
following. The plate seemed shut np.
The rest of the time 1 nave speut In a
hospital. Facing death and eternity, l
forgot life, t forgot you. God has
cursed ole for many years, and 1 never
bent to the rod. And now, when I had
thought t ' lora, bitter day was to end
in storm and :arkin ss, there is a prom-
ise of a new daseu."
"You mean?"— and the words were a
terrified breath on Tom's lips.
"What can I moan but that you are to
give tie my play?" be cried.
"I can't. Don't you see that it is im-
possible—now?" The prayer had gone
from Tom's voice, It was dogged.. des-
perate. "ill give you every penny 1 get
for it, but my came must stauu es its
author. To acknowledge your right
would be confessing my theft. That I
...,.,, to tau. Lt world mean social dis-
„ r.tce. Do you understand?"
Dawson's face was terrible in its scorn.
ellouey.wou't content me."
'See here. 1 could have denied your
right to this play—lied to your teeth,
Lint I didn't. Face to face in this silent
roam 1 have been honest with you. 1
would endo it all if I could. God knows
stow readily." He paused, and his voice,
though gniet, was like the strokes of
steel upon steel. "But before the world
It will be different. if yon have no
mercy on nay position, I'll have none on
yon. l will swear if need be that the
platy at !nine from the first word to the
last. 1 tell you it will be an unequal
struggle, :i ed 1 will win. Cranks and
alae n: ;il •r:t abound in New York. You
will be ,•las.•.'ii among them and be for.
tames Yon'd better accept my terms.
.link again. Take the looney. I'll be
••inti to give it to you. Bet the play
utast rt -main- mine. It is too late for
anything else. a Don't you see? Can't
.con sat'?„ .
•llatt'a;ot seemed scarcely to listen to
hila. He was looking-past•hini, a faint.
dreamy sutile upon his pale lips. •
• "prat's Mar; view of the situation.
. Now- htatir taint:. I've been trying for 15
yenr i tai tcnea success. I've always just
1Z113sed it. I made my last throw *hen
I wrote Sr. Fleming: and it won.
:Honey? Do you think money will make
up for the loss of the thing most precious
to mo? Deny r.ie as you will: I'll,take
my chances. You've robbed me of what
1 love; That play was friend and sweet-
heart. fire and food, to me for a year. It
is part of me. All I have hoped and
suffered appears !u its lines like a reflec-
tion in a glass Oh, yes, I'll have it
tack,"
Iso walked to the door, the bltiisli flask
. shading his white, earnest, clear' chit
fake, and clothing him with mystery.
Long after he was gone Tom stood
listening to the splashing of the rain.
Ells brain was afire with questions.
Dawson would accuse him, but it
would amount to nothing: he would be
thought a man driven frantic by misfor-
tune. Dat the money=that was a dif-
ferent matter and an unpleasant one.
Ile would never put another penny of
the play's payments to his own use. They
must be saved for Felix Dawson—saved
secrotly—arid some day he might be in-
duced to accept then. This meant and -
den poverty for himself and !night excite
curiosity. He could say he was paying
his debts, or seine of the speculations
recently indulged in might be fortunate.
He was not afraid. Ho felt secure.
Coffee and liquors were on the table
when Delatole rushed in,
"Piths over the absinthe, Tom," he
said. with a smile and a comfortable
kind of shiver. "Gad, this room looks
cozy after the rain. Bear it, splashing
in bucketfuls, 1 h:tal to go to Emerson's
and have a bite with him—listened to
nothing but praises of you from the soup
antil I broke away before dessert. He
says you're a genius, But that's noth-
ing new. Haven't I always said you
stood alone? This last play settles the
point beyond dispute. The 1Znssian color
is admirable! Hew the dence you caught
it I can't tell, when you never had your
boss in Russia, But who can explain
thevag:tries of genius? When you wrote
that, play, Tom, you prepared a delight
for posterity."
Ah, it was to hear words like these
that T'elix Dawson 'demanded what he
created. ,llfoney, after all, was the
smallest part g!'- the triltirepli. -'tom
1. roused aiimenit and found Delatole smil-
ing t l nm in his most engaging
way.
t .
1lis smiles. were usually very expensive
dainties and augured frowns for some-
body else.
"Do you know, Tom," and his black
eyes sparkled as he looked down at the
opalescent liquor swaying under the
tuovetiient of Itis fingers, "the time has
come when you eau do me a favor?"
".Can 1 indeed?"
'Yon don't seem overjoyed," ha said -
in a purring tone. "Look hero. L know
we've ee It:td it few small ditflttenc;es, but
can any two people of marked individu-
ality live together in a state of unruffled
peacu? Tout. give zee your Mand."
,
1
and watched Torn out of the room.
There was a craven malignity in every
lieu his pts sneo tn face, ce, A longing
al-
most
irresistible gripped him to knock
Tom dawn and hick him until the hot,
brutal desire d etre for retaliation had been.
glutted.
"Stumped. by God!" he muttered.
CHAPTER XIII.
The next fortnight saw an. important
change in Tom's life. Ho left the Uni-
versity building and took a cheaper
suitef rooms son Irvingplace, '
G6, oII0
of
the bivouacs of Bohemia. Delatole and
he had parted in a silence that was sal -
try.
.His plunges in Wall street kept him
well supplied with money for the time
being, and of the future he thought but
little.
The secret had changed its aspect, He
no longer cared to face it. It was now
a utonstrous fear maddening him with
whispers of a hundred possibilities, prod=
ding him, sending out false alarms and
slowly chilling his assurance into an
ever present premonition. Since the day
rFelix Dawson left him with the declare-
7714
eclare-
r'
t„ ,
!,1�if!,1,41,147.
a";
it li
'
"Oh, yes, ('ll have It back."
'Don't be mawkish. Come `to the
point. You want something. What is
it?" •
"Why, • you're positively brutal., you
uncompromising young dog!" said Dela-
tole, with a laugh, and then leaned con- :
fidingly on his arm, something terrier
like in the intensified sharpness of his
face, "but here goes. I know you'll help
me. now that yon are a Crowns again.
I'm tired working for The Challenge.
The pay, large as it :seems, is beastly
small for all I do. Emerson is anxious
to sell The Morning Cry, and I want to
buy it. Whew! What a chance for me.
I'd make it yell. Why, I'd be rich in a
year. Now, if 1 can only pay him a third
of the required amount (town, it's mine.
I want you, Murray, to lend it to me."
It was triumph that flickered deeply
in Tom's level glance. How often iu his
luckless moments this voice had sharply
prodded him that now, sank to a caress -
leg tone. asked help of him! •
"Quito impossible, my dear Delatole,"
he said promptly, with a shrug. "I need
!very penny just now,"
"You're jesting." And Delatole grew
visibly paler. +'What is your pressing
need, pray?"
'1 Must pay nay debts. As you so of-
ten reminded me, they are legion. I owe
you nothing mere—thank God for that— ,
but there are ethers."
"Murray, this is bosh. Lot them weit.
I should certainly be first with you.
This is a critical moment for me. You
can't refuse,"
"I do. I refuse."
There was a sullen, red point in Dela-
; tole's purplish pupils. He felt very
much as an elderly hen does who sees a
E half feathered chicken leave the shelter
1 of her wing . and with ag, defiantchirp
make its hesitating way alone. It was a
moment before he could Control himself
ant. speak,
"Surely Mrs. Baudoine's money"—he
commenced with a forced, insulting
laugh.
"You've talked a good deal about that
money, Delatole. I'm sorry it must be
left out of your calculations. The en-
gagement's off. Sink or swim, I go it
alone. Mrs. Baudoine understands, and
we remain good friends."
"So that's the way the wind lies? You
must be growing sentimental again.
, Well, then, your own money will an -
ewer, You're drawing big royalties from
your play, and it's one to last, I tell you,
Murray, if ytou refuse to assist the you
are a contemptible ingrate." He stood
up, placed his palms upon the table, his
voice coiling serpent wise around the
• words. "It was I who made you. Don't
forget that, my friend. You are an un-
formed stripling, a youngster groping in
the dark, without polish, without suav-
ity. Why, without me"--
The
e"—Tho blood rushed to Tom's face.
"Don't remind mo of what I was—
without you. Don't lot me think of
what I have become following you," he
interrupted fiercely. "You made me,
. you say? I have ruined myself, rather,
and you have ably assisted at the wreck-
; ing. You can n0 more remake me now
than can I myself."
i Ho stood tip, his eyes flashing with
their old impulsive passion. The words
came slowly, deliberately:
"Perhaps it's just as well we speak
plainly at last,. Delatole, you've robbed
me."
"What?"
"Yes, you've lived upon lee success -
felly for two years. I'm negligent about
,v:any, and I let you go on, but I'm not
a fool. You have bled me in a moat con-
sistont and masterly manner, doubled
my expenses with a lavish rechleasness,
and 1 knew it all the time, I2nt I kept
the peace, for I had made up my mind to
end it at the first opportunity." Ile
leaned forward, his face close to Delay
tole's. and his clinched hand rang on the
table. "It's ended now."
'During his adventurous life Anthony
Delatole had many times been surprised,
but never eo thoroughly confounded be-
fore. Ile stood leaning upon the table
tion, "Oh, yes, I'll have it back," ho had
not seen nor heard of him. This abso-
lute withdrawal was more significant
than threats. Suppose he had incon-
testable proof, after a].1? What if he
lied when he said he had no copy? What
if he could produce witnesses to prove
he had written the play? Would this
man some day appear again, relentless
in his quiet way, and hurl the bomb-
shell that would bring his false life in
ruins about his ears?
His rupture with Delatole—that, too,
made him uneasy. Oh, it was a load
from his heart to have told him the truth,
to have seen the sullen surprise deepen
into a stolid hatred in his horrid eyes. It
was a relief, a balm, but it brought a
danger in its wake. Suppose they met,
these two who for different reasons
would rejoice in his overthrow. Then
indeed might he shudder, pelatole would
follow the scent insatiably. He would
come like a vulture to pick his bones,
Even if proof were not possible 1» would
so damn him with suspicion, so besmear
him with the trail of his innuendoes,. so
riddle hint with the darts of his acrid
humor, his prestige would be lost for-
ever. Delatole had the power, the op-
portunity and the unswerving patience
to write au enemy down and out of ex-
istence. •
These dangers lay in wait for him at
some turning in the darkness beyond his
vision. But there was something more
terrible—a voice that spoke to him as no
living voice could. Mystic and person-
al, it came from his soul. Conscience,
like the giant of fairy lore, sometimes
awakens refreshed and hungry from a
seven years' sleep. In this interval of
inaction it was impossible for Tom to
look back on the short life he had so
quickly and completely • degraded and
feel no pang.
The heartburning, the anxiety, left
their haggard marks upon his face. He
grew thin, he became morose and mel-
ancholy. His world lost sight of him,
but hidden in some corner of the crowd-
ed theater, driven there by a restless fas-
cination, by the same resistless impulse
which forces the murderer to feast his
shrieking eyes upon his victim. ho night-
ly watched the play that told him in
every line he was a thief.
His nights were sleepless and filled
with fears—intolerable links between
morbid, feverish days. He drank heavi-
ly, trying to find in the flaming odors of
brandy an assuagement for the ache in
his heart.
This was Tom's life now. And across.)
this waste, like a pale ray tremblin„
' from pure, open skies, came a longing,
persistent as a thirst, to see Virginia.
He could not account for it. It was
not that he fancied their friendship
might be in any degree renewed, indeed
I he never seemed farther from her than
at this period, never more undeserving
: of a glance from her eyes. But the de-
sire was there, not forcible enough to
send him seeking her, yet with him al-
' ways. While fearing, half expecting to
' come face to face with Dawson, he was
unconsciously looking for her on the
1 streets, in shops and at the theater.
I Two years had passed, and ho had tlov-
er chanced upon her. Simile thing could
1 only be poseible in a city like New York,
where interests lie so widely apart and
life rushes in great circles, one within
another, never meeting. Virginia was
scarcely a mile from him, yet not seek-
ing each other they could not have been
more separate had they lived is different
' towns. Bohemia and Chelsea square are
antithetic—the one all fever, struggle,
t laughter. frailty, the other somnolent in
' an odor of sanctity, ruffled only by trem-
ulous chimes as the days walk demurely
cm.
Yet, so strange is the affinity between
thought and sequence, Tom felt scarcely
any surprise when one night at the thea-
ter he lifted his languid eyes and saw
Virginia in a lower box.
There she was as he had so often pic-
tured her through these useless, feverish,
fear haunted days. His sick soul raged
with yearning, and in all the crowded,
• half lit house he only saw her face. He
scarcely seemed to breathe. His eyes
devnurred her. The dear facet There
was no other like it in the world.
Tho light was in her eyes, tho red in
her arching lips, the soft fire of expect'
ing, exulting youth not one whit
dimmed. It is only in. books women
show ul,on _their faces when they have
(To aft co` 10 scso .
1 The Use of Salt.
Salt exists in all parts of the body,
1 ( at be
frame of h
the .animal fl a could 1
ail(ltl If U
properly nourished without it. Salt
is not only a natural ingredient in
all kinds of food, but we almost take
it in addition as a condiment to in-
crease the relish of malty article's of
dict. This desire. for salt is instinc-
tive, and indicates the natural crav-
ing of the system for something that
.'o
is essential to its organization. In
many instances it must be given to
the lower animals to provide fully
Mr their nourishment. Farmers and
stoekraiisers habitually give it to
horses, cattle and sheep, and expert.;
once has shown. that annuals, when
regularly suppliod with at proper
allowance of salt, are kept in a very
much better condition than when
without it. Salt is useful by exciting
the action of the digestive sections,
and in this way the digestion of the
food; for food that is tasteless, how-
ever nutritious its qualities may be,is
taken with reluctance and digested
with difficulty; while the attractive
flavor developed by cooking and by
the addition of salt and other condi-
ments, excites the secretion of the
saliva and gastric juice, and therefore
facilitates digestion.
Do you feel sad and weary?
—The world is all right, and friends
are kind, and the outlook is hopeful ;
but, "Oh," you say, "this sick head-
ache, that frightful twinge of neu-
ralgia, that bilious feeling which
makes the thought of the daintiest
edible a misery !" Stark's Powders,
25 cents a box. Ask for them at
your druggist's, take them, and the
sun shines again, the birds sing and
all is well. The sick or nervous
headache vanishes, the torturing
cries "peeeavi," and gives up posses-
sion, and for the bilious stomach that
loathes the honicycomb, there is the
healthy appetite that waits upon di-
gestion. •':R... a
=miss .:,.•..s.,.
The secret of a success is constancy
to purpose.
An obstinhtc man does not hold
opinions, but they hold him.
• Cultivate not only the cornfield of
your lives, but the flower gardens
also. t: .Ms-.: (��-.��>�•..,...,.: ;.1
�nrec. tom" •� _ �xisn'i _
The public are cautioned against
imitations of the Pain -Killer, and to
be SUS lcious of persons who recom-
mend any other article as "JusTeas
Goon ;" many of these they slake a
little mare profit upon, but which
have no qualities in common with
the Pain -Killer. 25c, Bottle, New
large size.
Energy brings success, but there's
nothing like success to bring about
energy.
Buy a man's good will and you will
find each time you have occasion to
ask it that the price has gone up.
A cheerful spirit is a great blessing,
it snakes the yoke of our employments
easy, and the burdens ofour afflictions
light. .. r.71 ,SS.. s •.
tib,«.,,.-„�...
••HHOLLOWAY'S OINTMENT AND PILLS.
—Indisputable Iicnhedies.—Ili the
use of these medicaments there nett
be, no hesitation or doubt of their
cooling, healing, and purifying pro-
perties. The Ointment stands un-
rivalled for the facility it displays in
relieving, ]pealing, and thoroughly
curing the most inveterate sores and
ulcers, and in cases of bad legs and
bad breasts they act as a charm.
The Pills are the most effectual
remedy ever discovered for the cure
of liver complaints, diseases most
disastrous ill their effects, deranging
all the proper functions of the organs
affected, inducing restlessness, melon -
choly, weariness, inablity to sleep,
and pain in the side, until the whole;
system is exhausted. These wonder -1
ful Pills, if taken according to the ;
printed directions accompanying each
box strike at the root of the malady,
stimulate the stomach and Ilver into I
a healthy action, and effect a cont-:
plete cure. !
The race of mankind would perish
did they cease to aid each other. We
cannot exist without mutual help.
Nothing raises the price of a blessing
like its removal; whereas it was its
continuance which should havctauglht
us its vallis
war! on sorotula and every forth of
impure blood is boldly by Hood's Sarsa-
parilla, the great eonquurcr of all blood
disease.
Constant application to pleasure
takes away from the enjoyment, or
rather turns it intoe tlhc nature of a
very burdensome and laborious
business.
0. acts like magic on oil
csrrtsrleadod stomach.
Only as eaeh man or woman per-
forms Itis or her personal duty hi any
department of lif
uctn that
depart-
ment
( rt -
melt be lifted to a higher plaice.
A great lie is like a great fish on
dry land; it may fret and flint;', and
slake a frig,''ht bother, but you
have only to keep sSill and it will (lie
of itself, •
•
The imaginative understanding, of
•
the nature of others and the pelves' of
o• places, puttill.., ourselves (: in roofs 1 lac(ti, las
the faetilty in which the virtue of'
sympathy depends.
Iloot,'s 1'u,:.s mire Nttasee, Sault Iloed-
arite, Indigestion, Biliolnouatt:„ Bold by all i�'
druggists.
Aloving heart Carried With it,
under every parallel of latitude, the
warmth and light of the topics, It
plants its Eden in the Wilderness
and. solitary place, and sows with
,
flowers tie, gray desolation of rock;.
ahl(1 rnosSeS.
I cnn high,y praise 13ar,look Blood
Bitters ee,aaaie it had a fair trial iu my
Case with won lerfol aneoess, : iy eyntptoms
were dropsy, b tekaclto and slseplessuess, , 'a
and all these disappeared after using two
bottles of 13erdbok 131ood Bitters 1 can-
not praise its heating powers too highly.
Gi(unitiY.1lloI ziut
Wood Point, Slao'tville, N.. B.
Watts --If there i:3 anyone I detest
from. my inmost soul 1t is the chump
at the opera who keeps time to the
music with his feet. Potts --Ile isn't
half as bad as the fellow who tries
to keep time and can't.
Maty—Carpets are curious things
manna. Mamma—Why so? May
—Although they are bought by the
yard, yet they're worne by the coot.
—St.tndard.
On (setting int,) a cab in Grattonstreet, Dahlin, an old lady wa.3 heard
to say to the driver', Help me to got,
111,'1111' good lllau,f'or I'm getting very
old. Faith, tuiun, said he, no matter -
what age you are y su don't look it!.
tOloaaso toe Stanash a -.1.i sw3eton
tno breath with X. D. C. °'
Doctor•—My good woman, does.
your son always stutter? Mother ---
Not always, sirs -only when he at-
tempts to talk.
Ise your gift of speech, to give
comfort, ,joy, cheer, and hope to all
alhowl you. Use it to encourage the
eliShearteste(1, to warn these who are
treading in paths of danger, to inspire
the indolent with holy motives; to
kindle the fires of heavenly aspiration
or cold heart -altars.
Arr. T•. Y. Warnieli
Toronto, Ontario.
A Narrow Escape
Took Poison by Mistake
Bad Effects Entirely gliminated by
Hood's Sarsaparilla.
"0. I. Hood & Co., Lowell, Mass.;
"Gentlemen—In April last, through the
effects of a dose of strychnine taken in mistake
for another drug, I was laid up in St. John,
N.33., for ten days. After this I never seemed
to regain my former health, and continually suf-
fered from indigestion and heart !palpitation,
for which I could get tto relief. I thought
I 'would try IIood'S Sarsaparilla. .After
takingono bottle, I felt a little bettor, so con-
tinued using the remedy until I ]tad consumed
six bottles. 1 found myself gaining strength
Hood'sCures
and flesh every day, and am now as healthy
as I was before taking thepoison.” Ir, V.
WARIsOi r,, representing the Seely Perfumes,
30 Melbourne Avenue, Toronto, Ontario.
HoOd's Pills cure llverflls, constipation.
jaundice, biliousness, sick headache, indigestion,
POWDERS
Care St!.:d" 1 xil':t.t;:H2y oath 1'ieuralgla
• is at, N •„ u a•nc3, 3.1. n Cu.t,t,l Te•;ecu' Dizzt-
' r,r:... ,4.a1.Sets9, i'aln In tuts 941(10, ('or t tipetion
, ' , . 7,. :
.r h '•,. ,
r ...,✓ r u Oro:). • .�
, 11 !'+r t. , cur.•d trnt�
rc,:n .40 the i • • • ',., 4..h i' MOS ?t5 'r'Alfi'.
Pftl ttt gr. Drtu0 Otai zs.
T)O:1iINl'
(Oirs"r Nt
ll
,r
i're (
.1 10 •11
�
• ( 1l1(l
t11Utli,tn 1
•otheNlll1;
tlistl'iImt:in;
We w:11 r.'t!.'
inlpJi'3, 111 r )'
million c1 )al:i
year, arra on
duty. If the
could llntict't
wholeironl
1
setters of till
'000. That s
capital he W(
Sip business, but
clition 11e pa;
are three 1
lost and unp
employ mor(
ture of the tl
he has -to ser
stutters, but
]manufacture
w c.
1
1 1111 he co
tribution bu
ploymcnt tc
As another i
rtatlon of cos
• year 5,600,4
• consumers o
tribution of
number of h
we have got
oil and $43C
to nearly $9
a • man end
would reqs
amount Of
- 'tuitions. Br
trade. $43
he would re
of hands to
gallons, he
to just as h
$4437,000 o
and develop:
ways. So
tariff is a
millions Of
already, ne:
k entire dist: i
But, Mr.
another fa
the rich ant
poor. I an
our own o
• (liscrinlinat
and favors
challenge a
the opposi
prove any
here are hl(
menu are
T the,; care:
when I pia
• and ask y(
light, no
arrived at.
the averag
Here are s
the farm(
reapers, p]
• per cent a
(two and 1
20 per cel
4. Forks, (fol
ed), 45I
the a vera.
per cont s
rake'.;, 49
ttie,averaq
per,. cent,
average.
seheclttle
how the r
against.
eheapast i
ce
cent; on
per Beat,
flannels,
tent, the
tweeds, t
dearest,
coatings,
the clear(
coating,
dearest,
inga the
dearest
cheapest
33 p,;, c
articles 1
above til
used. by
up to 10
In the fa
taken fr
the Gots
Speaker
House,
not (Ilk
and in
is Moir ala
mall's
cetlt; el
stones,
color pg
adorn
but if
plates
has to '