HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times-Advocate, 1927-01-06, Page 2I.
THE SNARE
SY RAFAEL SABATINI
By David Kerr.
certain of what you say?”
ship," answered the tailor, doffing his ’ ^he lxllX
Ville (Lord Dprset) was as well known 1,110 bijph-c® were wanned taint-
The Master Tale-Teller, Author of "Bardolys the Magnificent.” Another
Stirring; story of Adventure and Dove in a New Setting—
The Peninsular War*
not revealed?”
She made a good recovery. "I pos-
she told him, "I
thy Smithson!"
"1(3 iwio «V i MflWll u.
handsome man, in a very rich dress/1'11'0 tearing winds from the sea; a lit-
"Well, well, my dear, I am very glad
I you have tokl nm of this. If Mr. But-
; Ser is ever tak<m and in danger send
’me word of it, and I will,see what I
can do. By the way, who told you.
ihfa about a scapegoat?”
i "Capt. Tremayne.”
I "Capt- Tremayne? Oh, the man who
killed Sarnova*.?”
| "He didn’t,” she cried. "Capt. Tre
mayne says that he didn't and if ha
says so it is so.”
: "Oh, of course. Miss Armytage!”
„ < He was a man of unparalleled valor
1 ?ll ......boldness, yet so fierce was she in
little! "Why do you say that? Do you that moment that for the life of him
of the Irish dm- possess some knowledge that you have. he dared not have contradicted her,
w* ‘f-x------” t "As for this ta.e of a duel, ’ she con-'tinned. "I ask your lordship: Had
Capt. Tremayne desired a secret pieat-
, ing with Count Samoval, would he
■ have chosen the enclosed garden of
O’Moy’s residence of all places in
Which to hold it?”
Wellington was overcome with as
tonishment, and he showed it.
"Upon my soul,’ he said, "I do not
appear to have been told any of the
facts. This certainly puts a mon
strous strain upon belief. Why did
not Cl’Moy acquaint me with these
facts?”
“I don’t know,’ she said quietly. She
was tempted to tell his lordship of the
odd words that O’Moy had: used to her
' last night concerning Tremayne, But
she hesitated, and whilst she^hesitated
came Colquhoun Grant clanking across
the quadrangle loo Id ng for his lord
ship.
"And, indeed, you arrive very op
portunely, Grant,” Wellington con
fessed.
He turned to take his leave of Jack
Armytage’s niece.
’ "I’ll not fo-rget either Mr. Butler or
Capt, Tremayne,” he promised her,
and his stern face softened into a
gentle, friendly smile. "They are veiy
fortunate in their champion.”
(To be continued-.)
WHO’S WHO,
I4» Rmhu+u jmuuer i,,. „„„]—
oa h foraging expedition during
y»eUington’s campaign agdn®t the
French in Portugal, commits an of’ sess the knowledge that you should
fence during a drunken revelry, which possess yourself,” she told him, "I
arouses the resentment of Portuguese know Nedfor a man incapable of such
official®, and disappears from his regi-
"ment. *'
Terence O’Moy, brother-in-law of
Butler and adjutant-general, is visited
by
Migpe* Forjas, Portuguese secre-
t-~y of state, who warns Sir Terence
that Butler must be shot for his of
fence. O’Moy promises.
Principal Souza of the council of
regency is opposed to Lord Welling
ton’s plan^to devastate part of Portu
gal, and interferes with military op
erations until the British commander
in-chief has issued the ultimatum that
unless Souza be removed from the
government he, Wellington, will with
in aw from the country,
Una O’Moy, Sir Terence’s wife, and
Butler’s sister, hides Butler, unimown
to her husband.
Count Samoval. avowedly an ardent
supporter of Wellington, assures Una
that he will aid, Dick if given an op-
.Jiortunity. . >CapF^edTS-ehiayne/ O’Moy’s sec
retary, is in love with
Sylvia Armytage. Una’3 Cv.usin,^^a
clear-thinking, intel!~ i-
a thing, J am ready to swear that be
could not have done it.”
"I see; evidence as to character. It
may weigh with the court.”
Her ladyship looked at him wildly,
"The court?” she cried. "Do you
mean that I shall have to give evi
dence?”
"Naturally,” he answered. "You will
have to say what you saw.”
"Oha no, no!” In her alarm she
half-rose, then sank again to her
chair. "You must keep me out of this,
Terence, I couldn’t—I really couldn’t.”
He laughed with an affectation of
indulgence, masking something else.
Mullins coming to set fresh covers,
the conversation was allowed to lapse,
Nor was it resinned, for at that mo
ment,, with no other announcement
save such as was afforded by his quick
step, a short, slight man entered- the
quadrangle from the doorway of the,
official wing.
Sir Terence caught his breath in an
exclamation of astonishment.
"Lord Wellington!” he cried, and
:i. immediately on his feet.i ig n y g >•, exclamation the newcomer
— ’ checked and turned. He halted a mo
ment, then advanced quickly, and
bowed witty -a mixture of stiffness and
courtliness to the ladies.
"Do not suffer me to disturb you,”
he begged them. "Sit down, O’Moy. I
did not intend to break in 'on your
privacy.”
Sir Terence placed the (hospitality
of his table at his lordship’s, disposal.
But the latter declined graciously.
"A glass of wine and water, if you
will. No more.”
The party made conversation, what
CHAPTER XVIII.—(Cont’d.)
As he sat at his desk staring into
vacancy there came a rush of steps in
the hall outside, the door of his study
was flung open, and Miss Armytage
came sharply to rouse- him.
"Mullins has just told me that Capt.
Tremayne has been ordered under ar-
- rest for—for killing Count Samoval.
Is it true?” she demanded wildly.
"It is true,” he answered her.
"But—” She stopped, and put a
Litt? ffnotthe tillie the great soldier sippea his wine
™ *lld water. When at last he set down
m umv0 rhiM ” he an empty glass Sir Terence took this
P ’ the intimation of his readiness to
U « a rhw.’i»» nt- hi™ with official matters, and, rising,the£ remlmberins L^rd WelHn Eton’s A!>n<™need himself entirely at his
edict, ‘/Oh, God,”, she gasped.
xxc xwmsa «i> ix-cx xtivou v»voc*j., auu
gradually compassion crept into hi®
face. “You care for him, S’-1-"-'0”
The Northern Lumber Town.
All day the whirring of the sawmills,
And the sun shining on the town in
J he valley,
Gleaming along the wooded hills be
yond,
And dancing on the blue river filled
with logs.
Lumber is heaped In towering, state
ly piles
miles along the curving o£
river.
sharp, resinous fragrance of
sawdust
Mingles with the warm odor of
pine trees. *
For
The
the
the
A
You
COAT FOR
ORANGE
PEKOE
H
INCIDENTS IN
COLOR
VVILL-U, V/11, WU, O14V
He looked at her most closely, and
u-. _ * / */ ' *
face. "You care for him, Sylvia?” he
said, between inquiry and wonder. tJJKelt well! We are both fools to- in^2t
gether/ phild. The man is a dastard,
a blackguard.”"
She drew away from him, bewilder
ed and; horrified. ’’“V
"Why do you call huak^hat? What
do you mean?”"I will tel& you later.”
"Won’t you tell me n^J she beg-
"No,”- -.he answered, rising, and
■ speaking ,with finality. “I swear to
you that he isn’t worth a thought.
Later, I shall hope to prove it to you.”
. * , "That ybu never will,” she told him
fiercely.
. He laughed'. “Yet another trusting .
■ fool,” he cried. "Go to bed, Sylvia
for- understanding of men.”
She went without answering him
and toiled .upstairs with dragging feet,
pausing a moment outside Una’s door.
She was in s'Uch. need of communion
.. with, some one that for a moment, she
in, but abandoned
HacTWt but obeyed -the ^BreSnent impulse to seek"Lady O’M^
might have discovered all the
'‘ truth at once. For she would have
come upon her ladyship in a frame of
■ mind almost as distraught as her own;
-and she might have come upon Rich
ard Butler at the same time.-
“■ Rbf, iff view of what had happened,
Una had announced to Dick that she <
was going to her husband with the
whole truth."It is all your fault, Dick,” she re-|
proached him as he stood with his
back to the door to bar her intended
'“‘'egress. "If only you had been ready
on time, you would have got away be
fore any of this happened”
"Was it toy fault that I should have
reopened my wound in attempting to
lordship’s service.
Lord Wellington claimed his atten-
' tion for a full hour, and having done,
he rose at l'ast from Sir Terence’s
desk, announcing his intention of leav-
Sir Terence advanced1 to open the
door. But Wellington checked him
with a sudden sharp inquiry.
-"You published my order against
duelling, did you not?”
_ "Immediately upon receiving it,
It doesn’t seem to have taken
long foFrtlne-order—to..bc. infringed,.,
then.”
Sir Terence-., was conscious of a
quickening of his pulses. Neverthe
less his answer was calmly regretful:
"I am afraid not.”
The great man nodded, “Disgrace
ful! I heard of it from Fletcher this
;____Capt. Tremayne had just
reported himself under arrest, I
understand. He was one of your mili
tary secretaries, was he not?”
"He was.”
O’Moys honest soul was in tortur
ing revolt against the falsehood he
had implied. He was in such a mood
that one mo-re question on the subject
from Wellington and the truth must
have come pouring from his lips. But
no other question came. Instead, his
lordship turned on the threshold and
held out his hand.
"Good-bye, O’Moy. I shall' hope to
find the ladies in the garden so that I
may take my leave without inconven
iencing them.”
In the garden his lordship came
upon Miss Armytage alone.
"I was seeking Lady O’Moy,” said
he, "to take my leave of her.”
"She is -on the terrace, I think,”
said Miss Armytage. "I will find her
for your lordship.”
“Let us find her together,” he said
amiably, and so turned and went with
her toward the archway. "You said
the
Three bridges span the glinting, sun-
filled river;
And dandelions glow along Its border.
Church bells sound faintly from the
Indian village
And mingle with the murmur of the
sawmills.
I have seen violets, blue and small and
* . tender,
Forcing their way through icy snows
-in April,
a little winding path among the
' pine trees
the hill that leads into the- Indian
village.
On
On
At nightfall, walking in the quiet
valley,
I see the mills ablaze with, lighted
windows,
And watch the pines with their green,
pointed turrets
Burn in the dying orange fires of sun
set.
—Beatrice Mary Billing.............................
Chinese fishermen paint an eye on
their boats to enable the boats to see
their way.
For Colds—Minard’s Liniment.
SMART RAGLAN
THE JUNIOR MISS.
Soft woolen material makes this
girls’ raglan-Sleeve coat. The com
fortable armhole is always a joy to
the growing.gii'l. The tailored collar,
which is convertible, may be fastened
closely about the neck as illustrated,
or left open. The large patch-pocket
and wide turn-back cuffs, together
with the smart* cut, make No. 1074 a
prhetieal and easily fashioned style.
Cut in sizes 8, 10, 12 and 14 years.
Size 10 requires 2% yards 30-inch, or.
2% yards 54-inch material. 20 cents.
The designs illustrated in our new.
Fashion Book are advance styles for
the home dressmaker, and the woman
or girl who desires to wear garments
dependable for taste, simplicity and,
economy' will find her desires, fulfilled’
in our patterns. Price of tho book 10
cents the copy, '
HOW TO ORDER PATTERNS.
Write your name and .address" plain
ly, giving numbeX^lul size of such
■patterns as you Want. Enclose 20c in
stamps or coin (coin preferred; wi’ap
it .carefully) for each number and
address your order to Pattern Dept.,_
Wilson Publishing Co., 73 West Ade
laide St., Toronto. Patterns sent by
return mail.----------------------
Following.
I will bend myself to Thy will, at last,
and follow Thy direction—
'Oh, carry me forward to my task,
and to worship lift ine up!
—Marguerite Wilkinson, in ‘‘Citadels-.’’
The housekeeper who wants to make
both ends meat might start the dinner
with beef broth and end with mince
One fine evening, about two hun
dred years ago, just as the sun was set
ting over London, a crowd of idlers
might have been Been gathered around
the door of Will’s Coffee-house, which
was then a kind of fashionable club,
where all the wits and fine gentlemen
of the town were wont to- meet.
These loungers; were evidently wait
ing for someone of special note', tor
every now and then all heads were
turned eagerly toward the corner, of
the street, and each man whispered to
his neighbor:
“Isn’t he cornin’ yet?”
Suddenly there was a buzz of "Here
he comes”! and a fat little man, in a
rather shabby suit of black, with an
eye as clear and bright as a. hawk’s
came slowly through the crowd, which
opened respectfully to -let him pass'.
And well it might, for this old man
was no other than John Dryden,’the
most famous poet of his- time-, or (as
many people then said and thought!
of any other time either.
Little did they dream how small the
name of. John Dryden was one day to
look beside that -of another English
writer, also called' John, who had died
in an obscure lodging only a few years
before-, old, blind, racked with gout
' and glad to get twenty-five dollars tor
the grandest epic poem ever written—
a poem of which some of us have
heard under the name of "Paradise
Lost."
“Hurrah .for Mr. Dryden!” roared a
brawny fellow with a’butcher’s blue
japron; "and lo-ng may he live to -pitch
' into the Dutch, lubbers as they de
serve.!”
The crowd, heartily applauded the
sentiment, for -the war between Eng
land and Holland was just over, and
Dryden’s satires upon the Dutch were
more popular-in England than any
thing -else that .he had written.
"They said he was a-gittin’ ‘ old,”
cried a porter, looking after the- poet
as he entered the coffee-house; “but
to my mind he looks just as fresh as
ever!”
. “Who d’ye say that stou-t gentleman
is?” asked a light-haired lad, whose
rurldy cheeks and countrified dress be
trayed that this was his first visit to
London.
“Who’s he, do you say, Chaw-bacon?”
answered his neighbor. “Why, where-
eVer can you have been livin’ all your
life, pot to know him? That’s Mr,
John Dryd-eii, the great poet, as dines
with the king -every day,”
“Dines’’with the king everyday!”
ecSd-oed the countryman, in amazement.
“Eh, but I wish I was he.”
“You needn’t do that, my boy,” said
a sharp-looking -little journeyman tail
or; “for he-fa as poor as a. rat, and owes
JI
,s«n
The lake's, lilto three blue/^ea'd^
were strung at the thro-atMrthe Iiill.
Tljey were round and p^Jhicld under
' the laced fingers of. tlwtrees, and as
cal in as the sky ardied far above^
them. Everything thfre was heldJi]^
a lovely stillness—thetelendor bir.ciips^
whitoly streaked against green woods
beyond-, the tattered sprays of russet
maple leaves, the broad scribbling of
r maijve shadows along the dim and
curving lines of the shore. Every thing
was quiet and tranquil, with tho quiet’
•ness and tranquillity -that belong to
■early dawn and early dusk when
things are scarcely awake and barely
asleep, " « - •
Now and then a bird veered low, and
it® shadow, faint arid, minute,, slid like
a grey leaf across the blue water.
And once the pines on the top of thea hundred guineas into the bargain.
He’ll see the Inside of a debtor’s- pris-
Oh afore long, or my name’s; not Timo-,moved suddenly aud restlessly-
~ tapeivn-g pines cut sharply into the L.'I®Th»t’really so?” asked a tall, I alJT and,rooted deep to stand against
who had just got out of his carriage a.t j1:10 ragged and a little old, hut proud
the door of the epffeeho-use, “Are you i111 their solitude. And twice the honk
certain of wh-at y-ou say?” of fl-vin8' ^ese stabbed the silence and"Quite certain, if it please your lord-1 long threads-of e-ch-oes from be-—"
ship," answered the tailor, -doffing his '11111,11 tlle lxl11, Tlle Slln dropped lower
cap respectfully — tor Charles. Sack- °bd lower, until the silver fingers, of
Ville (Lord Dprset) was as well known 1,110 birchc-s- were xvarmed to the faint-
jn London as the dome of St. Paul's it- > est 0°tol, and a fleet of high, thin,
self, being, in truth, the mos-t generous cl'ou-ds in tjie north w-ere singed and
as well as- the richest of English scared with erim&on and the flaring
nobles. "It’s- our people he owes the YMlow of. autumn leaves.. Shadows
bill- to, and master says he means- to were streaked down the- hill, .like grey
get his money one way or another.” pencd-llings on a brown and crumpled
parchment; and all the western sky
behind- the pines was burning exult
antly with color. The massed clouds
grew darker, the shadows heavier;
crimson was -dimmed to purjile, and
blue to a lovely .dove-wing grey. The
lakes were delicately pink in the mid
dle, but shadows were swimming out
slowly, darkly, • to sap them of their
warmth, to blur their radiance, and
draw the shores tog-etlier,
A fragment of the moon blew in with
the evening winds, a frail and shining
arc against the heavy blue of the sky;
and a scattering of stars glittered like
polished pebbles where a while ago the
sun had sent up vermillion flames and
clouds of purple smoke-. The hill .
loomed black and silent now/ with it®
crest of ragged tree's; and- far below
it, by the slim, still1 birches-, three- lit
tle lakes repeated the stars in silver
and the moon in sil-ver-whRe-.
Window Gardening for
Winter.
Those who have flowers- and srow
them outside in summer time must, ‘
in winter, resort to the cultivation of
house fflants, make purchases from the
florist or go without. It is .therefore
a good time to resort to window gar*
de-ning and in this field, of ..amateur
work there is- opportunity for much ’■ •
pleasure and profit if one will give a
little attention to a few important par
ticulars. Every person can have at
least one small plant in the window,
thus becoming, on a. small scale-, a
landscape gardener. A few plant trin\- * ■
inings in the winter help to make a
picture.
The usual difficulties in growi^« ■ -
plants in houses', especially in tlie win
ter time-, are those of too little light,
extremes in temperature, too much .
gas from coal fire® and gas burners,
and crowded’ conditions in the house.
However, all of these difficulties can
usually be overcome to the extent that
plants will tolerate and grow with sat
isfaction if a little cate is exercised
in raga-rd to the preliminaries of house
management, ,
To succeed With plants in the home,'
it is- best to -select d-Toom ,with mucli^^ sunlight and' one which' is venttlaterf^
but which lias no strong drafts. Uj
shapely pots for the plants and use liberal supply of sandy 'loam or'
bushel or two oi- mixture from the*
florist’s. Repot the plants- each year
with fresh -earth, firming, it well- !
around the roots’. Trim off- all wither
ed or dead I-eaveS and prune back the
plant® to keep theni in good shape.
Give them plenty of water and access
to light -and. they Will thrive. It fa im
portant not -to crowd the planh as „
they do no look as /veil in a crowded
condition and do not grow as well, i
They need lots of room .and plenty of
sunlight West windows furnish Too
intense a light for some- plants, hence
south or southwest windows are bet
ter. Bay windows are ideal. Avoid
hot dry air. Keep the .room air moist -
from an open pan of Water, or spray
the leaves each day with tepid,water.
’ To begin with, one may grow ger
aniums, .coleus, begonias, ferns-, es
pecially the Christmas, Boston and
Maiden Hair and some of the smaller
palms and many bulbous plants such
as tulips, hyacinths, asparagus ferii,
Christmas cherry, petunias-, helllo-
'»The earl made no answer, but walk
ed Into the coffee-house, murmuring to
himself:
“I could*'pay the debt easily enough,
but it wouldn’t please myxoid friend
to know that his difficulties are public
I tii-lk;. I must find some other way.”
The group assembled within was
one which any painter would have
loved to copy, for ervery -man in It bore
a name will ch will live as- long as the
history of England; itself.
There was the brilliant, witty, heart
less Sir 'Charles Sedley, many of whose
sayings are still quoted- by men that
have forgotten who said them. There
were the smooth-tongued „ Arlington,
and -the boisterous Ether’ege, and the
ever-laughing Montague.
There, too, was the wild Duke of
Buckingham, upon whose handsome
features the mad career that destroyed
tlie largest fortune and. the strongest
constitution In England had already
stamped the impress of premature age
and untimely death.
And there, somewhat wan and hag
gard from long excess', but still beauti
ful and graceful as ever, sat the wild
est and wittiest, and most reckless of
them all.— John W-ilmpt, Earl of
Rochester. - ' .
“Welecmo, my ll-lustrous lfainesake! ”■
crjM Sedley, -with his little- twinkling
laugh.; “You come, as usual, just at
the right moment. We are discussing
which of us is- the best at writing an*
impromptu, and we cannot agree.”
“I’ll settle, it for you, then!” -cried
Dorset', struck with a sudden thought.
“We will each write a piece of irn-
promptu verse or prose-, and Mr. Dry
den, whose judgment no one -can ques
tion, will honor ua by naming the sue-’
cessful .one.”
“Agreed!” cried all,, with one voice.
And to Work they went at. onc§,
while Dryden, turning his chair around
watched them with- a smile which
showed how thoroughly he enjoyed
the post assigned to him.
Among the most famous Wits of the
day, one might well have expected a
very close and sharp content, but to
everyone’s amazement, Dorset pushed
his paper across tlfe table to Dryden
almost before any of the others had
well begun theirsyb.
“Our friend must have thought,”
whispered Btherage to Rochester,
“that the prize was the quleckest
piece, not to the best. His contribu
tion must consist of nothing but date
and signature, judging from the time
he’s taken ovex it.”
“He looks pleased enough, how
ever,” answered Rochester, ■ in the
same tone. “Depend upon it, he has
hit on some good idea,”
It certainly appeared as if he had,
tor when, all the impromptus were
finished and handed 'in, Dryid-Cn, after
a very brief .examination of them, as-
tonislred every one by deciding in favor
o:
would not have been lost, and very
likely my life with it.” He came to a
gloomy conclusion.
"Your life? What do you mean,
Dick?”
"Just that. What are fiiy chances
■^getting away now?” he asked her.
^■P®W5!^lmachus will sail1 without me,
the w110 could have
in® tol get ettt of -this damned
IHEa-rv fa wiMer arrest. And you
Mvc so Ifta? tliat y°u 10
t-iraight JjjJT to Terence and ex- feain to ■hnnwhat Tremayne Was do-
tog here.” >
"I won’t, Dick, 1 won t ” she prom
ised hastily. “YmVknoW I didn’t real
ize, or I shouM nor have thought o.f it,
evefi. X Was so concerned, for Ned.”
"There’s hot the need,” he assured
her. "Ned will be safe enough, devil
a doubt.”
CHAPTER XIX.
ms loudship.
Sir Terence came to breakfast next
morning/ gray-faced and haggard/ but
■jjraculously composed. Voice and
calm as he gave a good-
wife and to Miss
ftdng to do about
his wife’s first
i^am I going to do?” he ech-
"Why nothing. I may bo asked
„ : . ....Il.i ;>
tardly assist him.”
Iler teasboob rattled in her saucer.
Mon’t imdersjtand you, Terence. You BhUJuvt ho did not kill Samoval.”
His glance quickened a
no, 1—’2^
give evidence, but my evidence cqp
-....h
ilei* teasnoeb rattled in her saucer.
it he did: not hill Samoval.”
uncle,” she surprised him by saying.
"God bless my soul1, ma’am!” he
ejaculated. "So you’re Jack Army-
tage’s niece. Give me- news of him,
my dear.”
She did so, while he listened with
interest, and1 out of has boyhood;
friendship for her unde sprang there
and then a kindness for the niece.
“My dear,’’ he said-, "if 1 can serve
you at any time both for Jack’s sake
and your* own, I hope that you will let
me know of it.”
"You tempt me, sir,” she said with
a wistful smile. *
"Then yield' to the temptation,
child,” he urged her. kindly, those
keen, penetrating eyes of his perceiv
ing trouble in hers.
"It is about Lt. Richard Butler,” she
'began. , _He knit his brow in thought. "But
ler?” he muttered questioningly, then
he remembered and his thin lips tight
ened. "Yes?” he inquired/ but the
tone was now forbidding.
Nevertheless she was not deterred.
"Mr. Butler fa Lady O’Moy’s brother,”
she said.
He stared a moment, taken aback. "Good God! Her brother! O’Moy’s
brother-in-law! Hum! But what can
I do, Miss Armytage? What were the
actual facts, do you happen to know?”
She recited them, putting the case
bravely for the scapegoat, Mr. Butler.
"I gather, sir,” she concluded, "that
ho was to be a sort of scapegoat.”
Ho swung round sharply, and the
sudden blase of hj» eyes almost terri
fied her. "Ah! You are oddly well in
formed throughout. But, of course,
you would bo,” he added, with an ap
praising look into that intelligent face.
THE PEACE RIVER COUNTRY FAR NORTH OF EDMONTON
This Is King Wheat’s new empire.! at the left of the map., fa a great dis-' oats at Chicago exhibition, held, in
Vermilion, at the top of the map, fajtrlct which Induces four prairiesIIs111 ^Yetobley. The
685 miles north of the International ’ which promise to fie partirulariy j H^e XtheasterL m
boundary, yet wheat grows there. And ; tlks These produce high grads export' p In the liotimiains west of the
around Wembfay and Grande Rjjgirio. wheat, The sweepstakes wheat and territory included here.here.
r kt* k ft
»
f
of Dorset,
Rochester, who had fully expected
the first placejiiihiself, eagerly snatch
ed up Dorset's paper, and' instantly
broke into a shout of laughter, echoed
by all the fest, as they read the prfao
Composition, which ran as follows;
“Pay to John Dryden, on Demand,
the Sum of One Hundred Guineas,—
Dorset.’1
To Fit the Occasion. .
As a disciplinarymeasure, it was — - -
customary in one Household to make trope, and verbenas,
the offending member eat alone at a
small table in. the corner and repeat a
verse from the Bible,
On one occasion, while the other
members of the family were asgemb*. led at the dinner table, the little boy I
In the corner was, asked tor hie Bible I
quotation. He solemnly offered "the' <
toll owing: “Thou prepares!: a table be- j u jMgjM
tore me in the presence of mine one- ’
mies.” I
Italy.
And now, fair Italy!
r Thou art the garden of the world, the
I
home
Of all Art yields, and Nature can d<H
■t fa Hkj
Explai nedt
Farmer (using telephone)—“Sc
me over a bushel of oats.” J
Clerk—‘'Surely. For whom?!” «
"Don’t try to joke with me—fo J
horse.” — . , jfl
Minard’s Liniment for chapped