HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times-Advocate, 1927-10-20, Page 2■w
a
0
rected, “I will tell his excellency’
that you are here,” • !
A door was opened and closed
again and Parker found himself
alone. He twirled Ins bowler hat,
which he held in his hand and stared
about the place vacantly. Once he '
began to whistle, but checked himself
and coughed nervously. Finally the
Hindu gentleman, reappeared, beckon
ing him to enter.
Parker stood up very quickly and
advanced, hat in hand.
$
Quick relief from pain.
Prevent shoe pressure,
Al all drag and shoe stores
nzScholl’s
paiiHssone’*’
A Personal Querie
x
LVailWU’,
Crossing the room, the Hindu rap- How Do You Treat Your
TTlbat is wlxz people insist on Salada*
BEGIN HERE TODAY.
Sir Charles Abingdon engages Paul
Ilar.ty, criminal investigator-, to find
out wny Sir Charles is kept under
s lk’vph ame by persons unknown to
l.im. Harley diines at the Abingdon
J erne. Sir Charles falls from his
<hiar in a dying state. Abingdon’s
last words are “Nicol Brian” and
"Fire Tongue,”
Dr. 5! (Murdoch pronounces death
due tn Inwt-failure. Harley claims
I A* Cha k-s was poisoned and calls on
Nice! Li inn to ask him the meaning
(.f "Fire-Tongue.” Brinn admits that
J»e Larned its meaning in India but
lefa.-e*- to divulge the secret.
, Paul investigates the life £>f Ormuz
Khan, xery wealthy Oriental, with
whom Phil Abingdon, daughter of Sir
Cha.’le , is friendly.
GO ON WITH THE STORY.
“And outside mine,” declared tho
inspector “He hasn’t the most dis
tant conn- etion with anything crook
ed, It pave me a lot of trouble to
fin.l out v.kat little I have found out.
Briefly, al 1 have to tell you is this:
Ormuz Khan—who is apparently en
titled to be addressed as ‘his excel
lency’—-is a director of the Imperial
Bank of Iran, and is associated, too,
with one of the Ottoman banks. I
presume h's nationality is Persian,
bat I can’t be sure of it. He period
ically turns up in the various big
capitals when international loans and
that sort of thing are being nego
tiated. I understand that he has a
flat somewhere in Paris, and the Ser-'
vice de Surete tells me that his name
is good for several million francs
over there. He appears to have a
certain fondness for London during
fhe spring and early summer months,
and I am told ht has a fine place in
Surrey.
Savoy Court;
f
1
He is at present living at »
SF
4 inquired the voice of the man in the
fitting room.
“Quite unwelcome,” said Jarvis, “I
don’t want him. I have more work
than T know how to turn out. I wish
he would go elsewhere. I wish—”
He paused, He had seen the page
boy. The latter, having undone his
parcel, was' holding out a pair of ele
gant, fawn-colored shoes.
“Great Moses!” breathed Jarvis,
“He’s had the cheek to send them
back again!”
“His excellency—” began the page,
when Jarvis snatched the shoes from
his hand and hurled them to the other
end of the shop. His white beard
positively bristled.
So positively ferocious was his
aspect that the boy, with upraised
arm, backed hastily out into the
street. Safety won: “Blimey!” ex
claimed the youth. “He’s the warm
floods, he is!’/
He paused for several moments,
staring.in a kind of stupefied admira
tion at the closed door of Mr. Jarvis’
establishment. He whistled again,
softly, and then began to run—for the
formidable Mr. Jarvis suddenly open
ed the door. “Hi, boy!” he called to
the page. The page hesitated, glanc
ing back doubtfully. “Tell his ex
cellency that I will send round in
about half an hour to remeasure his
foot.”
The boy departed1, grinning, and a
little more than half an hour later a
respectable-looking man presented
himself at Savoy Court, inquiring of
the attendant near the elevator for
CHAPTER X.
HIS EXCELLENCY ORMUZ KHAN.
The city clocks were chiming the
, hour of ten on the following morning
when a page from the Savoy ap
proached the shop of Mr, Jarvis, boot
maker, which is situated at no great
distance from the hotel. The impu
dent face of the small boy wore an
expression of serio-comic fright as
he pushed open the door and entered
the shop.
Jarvis, the bootmaker, belonged to
a rapidly disappearing class of Brit
ish tradesmen. He truckled to no one,
but took an artistic pride in his own
handiwork, criticism from a layman
merely provoking a scornful anger
which hacrlost Jarvis many good cus
tomers. „
“Yes, sir,” Jarvis was saying to 'a
patron, “it’s a welcome sight to see
a real Englishman walk into my shop
nowadays. London isn’t London, sir,
since the war, and the Strand will
never be the Strand again*” He
turned to his assistant, who stood be
side him, bootjack in hand. “If he
sends them back again,” he directed,
“tell him to go to one of the French
firms in Regent Street who cater to
dainty ladies.” He positively snorted
with indignation, while the page, lis
tening, whistled and looked down at
the parcel which he carried.
“An unwelcome customer, Jarvis?”
A pretty girl was manicuring his
excellency’s nails.
Ml is the ideal sweet tor cbll-
, & dren and you, too.
liquids appetite and
digestion,'* and satisfies
the craving for
sweets.
Not dramatically nor hysterically, but
just as two adult human beings in the full possession of their Reasoning
faculties, We finally decided to treat,
each other as if wo were stranger—
to extend the same couttesy we would *
show to- an outsider
to bo given a f
no matter how
hevior might
course, at first,
helped,
can't be very touchy when you laugh.
Looking back it doesn't seem so funny,
Ono doesn’t got much of a laugh from
the odd look of the plank that saved
one born drowning in mid-ocean. Our
scheme added zest to life and put each
of us on our mettle. You have no
idea how rude you have been until you,
try to be polite. At least I had none.
I had given up seating my wife at
meals; waiting for her to. out before
beginning; arising when slm entered
a room; assisting'her witln her coat—-
! and a hundred other things considered
unnecessary in family life. But they
’are tho most necessary things In the
world. They turned our lives from a
most unhappy state into one of peace,
contentment and-affection.
Concentrated effort,on each other’s
welfare gave us- what we call ''the
"mutual cutlook”—the -essential view
point for-family life. By seeking to
find things, mutually pleasant our re
sultant compromises usually pleased
us both. Far from becoming artificial
and unnatural, our life together be
came natural and pleasant. I,t is a
myth that family life must be dissenti
ent. It i» so only because of a lack
of ‘ordinary courtesy among its mem
bers. . *
People sometimes blame the age for
discourtesy. I 'havo used that alibi
myself. It is pure, unadulterated
buncombe. Politeness is a personal
matter and has nqthing to do with the
time in which one lives. Courtesy is
no more xmd no-less than considera
tion for others; thoughtfulness. It
does not mean what is vaguely refer
red to as polish-or fine manners. These
aro often nothing but a showing off.
That was the sort of courtesy which I
had -had—a mere exterior furbishing,
put on to impress-others'. I dropped
it when I entered my home as there
seemed no need to impress my wife.
That was where’I was wrong. It was
far more necessary for me to make al
good impression on my wife than to
have casual acquaintances think of
me as polite.
The foundation of a happy family
life is respect. But one cannot respect
a person who is alv/ays selfish, ex
hibits no control, and shows plainly
that fiis mind is centered wholly on
himself. I have seen many marriages,
among people of many kinds, and I
have been married some years myself.
I have yet to find a condtion ore vital
ly affecting the relations of people'liy-
Ing Intimately together than courtesy.
A few- trees are riven by lightning
bolts. Thousands are destroyed by
tiny, slimy worms and slugs. A
marriages are smashed by some
thing. Thousands of .marriages
wrecked, or seriously crippled, by
dally repetition of little thoughtless
discourtesies.
I
Our system was
lir trial for -six months,
odd' er stilted''our be
seem. Funny? Of
The very humor of it
It made us laugh and you
The houses of Doughton are of the
simple an|l homelike Cotswold type,
and are larger and more important
than those ono generally finds in vfl-
iages, showing, I take it, that they
were erected at a period when not
only the poorer classes, but men of
moderate wealth, werO content anil
glad to live in the country; and froia
the carod-fov look of the Houghton
homes they still appear to do so
there. The Cotswold type of house
appeals to me on account of its lion-
e:it construction, lastlngne;
pllcity. It is both built
with stone> its walls are
thick, so that the Interior
winter and cool in summer,
of thin split stones, sized down from
the top to the eaves (the smallest be
ing at tho top) makes the loveliest
covering possible to imagine, for
those stone slates.-for ma mosaic cf
uirwiy greys, ranging from cool- to .
warm; nor are thoy laid with ma*
chine-like monotonous regularity as
aro the blue slates or red tiles of a
modern building, and their rough stir- .
faces encourage the growfli of gold
and silver lichen, further enhancing
their charm. • The old builders under-
stood the iniportance of a roof, and.
they took pains to make it beautiful,
and they made it high pitched, the
bettei* to throw off the rain and’ the
snow. A roof emphasizes tho shelter
that a home gives to a man. . . ,
Within, those old houses, judging
from those that I havo seen, aro de
lightfully picturesque, though, accord
ing to modern ideas, their planning is
somewhat inconvenient, for„ it is not
an unknown thing in them to have to
pass through one room to gain access
to another. But perhaps tho very
eccentricity of such planning adds to
their charm—-at least to there who
are but passing guests. Ono thing
I have always noticed about these in
teriors is tho sense of snugners of
their chambers, however large they
may be. This is chiefly obtained ow
ing to tho old. builder insisting on the
predominance of width and depth
over height. He preferred, for the
samcriimount of enclosed area, to se
cure useful floor room instead of
waste space above. What a charm
ing feeling cf repose there is about
these ancient rooms with
ings, brown-beamed and
beams being adzed so that
an interesting surface and
human touch, nqt planed Into a mean
ingless smoothness,—their cushioned
window bays,
with
these
wide,
their
mented fire-backs of iron, not to for
get their spacious Inglenooks. . . .
There is a subtle charm about these
old Cotswold hpusfes quite incom
municable in words. Doughton is a
village of homes, a something aparl
from a village of houses . . . Writing
of one of these old. houses that he sc
dearly loved, William Morris says,
‘Though my'words may give you no
idea of any special charm about it,
yet I assure you that the charm is
there; the old house has
out of tho soil and the' lives of
who havo lived on it.”—From
.English Holiday With Car and
era,” by James John Hissey.
ped upon an inner door, opened it,
and standing aside, “The man from
the bootmaker,” he said in a low voice.
Parker advanced, peering about
him as one unfamiliar with his sur
roundings. As he crossed the thresh
old the door was closed behind him,
and he found himself in a superheated
atmosphere heavy with the perfume
of hyacinths.
He stood dumbly before a man who
lolled back in a deep, cushioned chair
and whose almond-shaped eyes, -black
as night, were set immovably upon
him. his man was apparently young.
Ho wore a rich, brocaded robe,.trim
med with marten fur, and out of it
his long ivory throat rose statuesque-
ly. His complexion was likewise of
this uniform ivory color, and from his
lo wsmooth brow his hair was brushed
back in a series of glossy black waves.
One long, slender* hand lay upon a
cushion placed on the chair arm, and
a pretty girl was busily engaged in
manicuring his excellency’s nails.
Although the day held every promise
of being uncomfortably hot, already
a huge fire was burning in the grate.
As Parker stood before him, the
languid, handsome Oriental did not
stir a muscle, merely keeping the gaze
of his strange black eyes fixed upon
the nervous cobbler. The-manicurist,
after one tquick upward glance, con
tinued her work. But in this moment-
of distraction she had hurt the cuticle
of one of those delicate, slepder fin
gers.
Ormuz Khan withdrew his hand
sharply from the cushion, glanced
aside at the girl, and then, extending
has hand again, pushed her away from
him. Because of here- half-kneeling
posture, she almost fell, but managed
to recover herself by clutching at the
edge of a little stable Upon which the
implements of her'trade were spread,
he table rocked and a bowl of water
fell crashing on the carpet. His ex
cellency spoke. His voice was very
musical.
“Clumsy fool,” he said. “You have
hurt me. Go”
Parker fuinblingly began to remove
the lid of the cardboard box which he
had brought with'him.
“I do not wish you to alter the
stipes you have made,” said his excel
lency. “I instructed you to re-measure
my foot in order that you might make
a pair to fit.”
“Yes, sir,” said Parker. “Quite so,
youi* excellency.” And he dropped
the box and the shoes upon the floor.
“Just a moment, sir?”
From an inner pocket he drew out
a large sheet of white paper, a pencil,
and a tape measure. “Will you plade
your foot' upon this sheet of paper,
sir?”
Dropping upon one knee, Parker
removed the furred slipper from a
slender, arched foot, bare, of the deli
cate color of ivory, and as small as
a woman’s.
“Now, sir.”
The ivory foot was placed upon the
sheet of paper, and very clumsily
Parker drgjv its outline. He then
took certain measurements and make
a number of notes with a stub of
thick pencil. Whenever,his none too
clean hands touched Ormuz Khan’s
delicate skin the Oriental perceptibly
shuddered?
Parker replaced- paper, pencil, and
measure, and, packing up the reject
ed .shoes, made for the "door.
“hO, bootmaker 1” came the musical
voice.
Parker turned. “Yes, sir?”
“They will be ready by Monday?”
“If possible, your excellency.”
“Otherwise-, I shall not accept
them.”
In the outer room the courteous
secretary awaited Parker., and there
was apparently no one else in the
place, for the Hindu conducted him
to the lobby and opened the door.
(To be continued.)
Family?
Success Magazine for September
: had an anonymous article that hits a
protruding family nail right on the
head. It is well worth serious con
sideration especially- in families
where there are more than just hus
band and wife.
*It runs as follows:— 1
It was somewhat of a shock to have i
my wife tell me one ovening that 11
was tb£ most discourteous man sho |
had ever<Known. Among "my friends
and business associates I have a elight
reputation foi* courtesy. I am con
sidered old fashioned in my ideas of
■courtesy to strangers. Her accusa
tion made me mad. Tho injustice of
it rankled until my wife pointed out
that I kept my politeness for outsiders
and used none in my own home. I
don’t like to think of it even now, but
it was true: I was not giving my wife
even thie courtesy I gave my office
assistants* In one of those sudden
flashes that come to us, was revealed
why our life, which had begun with
such high hopes, and braved advessity
after adversity, was being beaten to
pieces on- rocks, which seemed too
trivial to notice. 4
Few men and women have Dad a
more romantic courtship than my wife
,£gnd I. . Almost every obstacle existe'd
for us: no money; family and friends
in opposition to the match. These ad
versities but fanned our love to a
higher flame and, when we married,
we were in such an ecstasy of bliss
that lack of money, clothes, and every
thing usually deemed nocessary did
not In the least
each) other.
It is a long
heights to the
every other word is in argument. The
transition was not'rapid. It was no
sudden cleavage that killed our ro
mance* It was merely the endless
repetition of daily discourtesies, the
constant casual Impoliteness which
people living intimately together ex
tend to each other.
Discourtesy is- a very insidious
thing. It creeps upon one without
warning and is hard to dislodge. In
the beginning, one’s lapses are so
trivial as to seem negligible. Multiply
them by, say, seye$ £ day and you
have 2555 opportunities in one year for
hurting or annoying another person!
It required hard thinking for me to
accept all this. Even now, knowing
what I do, I ilave to fight continually
against the old ha^it of carelessness
and casualness.
I am am inveterate reader. If any
one speaks to me while I am deep in
a book I will reply at random, not
really having heard. I can spend al
most all of my evenings reading and
never find it monotonous. My wife
one evening remonstrated with me be
cause I answered her remarks so un
satisfactorily. I suggested that it
was very discourteous to interrupt me
when I was' reading. I had quite fail
ed to see that it was impolite and
thoughtless - of- me tc spend every
evening so engrossed with a book that
I did not wish to taljc. . Also, I had
forgotten that, while my wife likes ,to
jead, she is not averse to the theatre,
playing cards, or calling on friends.
Foolish, isn’t it? A trifle! Easily ad
justed by any two people with com
mon sense. ’But it wasn’t adjusted,
and equally little things aren’t ad
justed in families—wherein lies much
of the tragedy of family life.
Another small discourtesy which
became a source of serious dissension
was that of interrupted remarks. Each
came firmly to believe that neither
was allowed to finish a remark. At
first Tve had prefaced our- interrup
tions with an “I beg your pardon.”
Later we would take the. conversa
tional bit between our teeth without
any apology. We would even speak
in unison—causing our friends no end
of amusement and us no end of irrita,
tlon. Naturally the matter of inter
rupting is bound up with egoism. So
is all discourtesy. WO think so much
of ourselves that we have no room in
our mind^ for the thuoghts of others.
This was brought fiome forcibly to
me one night when,' hearing a radio
program which bored me, I turned on
another station.
“You might have,, at least Inquired
if I ivere epjoylng the program before
turning it off,” said my wife. As a
matter of fact I had never ■’thought of*
it. I wouldn't dream of switching off a
stranger’s radio set, nor that of a
friend, without some apology or re
quest for 'permission, But I .wouldn’t
grarit my wife even the coqrfesy of a
castfiil Inquiry as th her enjoyment of
thd program. It -was not that I wished
to be rude, but simply because I didn’t
think. You cannot be polite without
thinking.
Often when I am writing my wife
drives pie to distraction by making ex
traneous remarks—nof to annoy, but
because she doesn’t stop to think.
Fortunately my wife and I awoke
before it Was too late. We were stum
bling along, groping through a morals
of dissension which had so bhgged nur
happiness that it seemed
nration. But one night
aether” and we talked
Wilson Publishing Company
disturb us. We had
descent from those
place where almost
PRACTICAL
PRINCES CAUGHT
SHORT OF MONEY
is, and sinl
and roofed
delightfully
is warm in
its roof
their ceil-
low—the
they have
reveal the
their panelled walls,
tho warm and furnished look
give;, . . . and, above all, their
open-hearth fireplaces with
upstanding firedogs and orna-
■4
•>
*•
•a
/
k J7
AND DEGIDEDLY
NEW
This little dress of attractive design
for daytime and schooltime would be
equally effective if’fashioned of figur
ed or plain material with contrasting
collar and set-on vestee. An inverted
plait in centre front gives the* neces
sary fulness's, and the sleeves may be
long and gathered into narrow wrist
bands, or short. A belt fastened witlj
a buckle in front is placed at top of
the hips. 'N&71303 is 4' nsizes 6, 8, 10,
12 and 14 years. Size 8 requires 2%
yards 32-inch material; or 2% yards
39-inchj> 20 cents.
HOW TO ORDER PATTERNS.
Write your name and address plain
ly, giving number and size of such
patterns as you want. Enclose 20c in
stamps or coin (coin preferred; wrap
it carefully) for each number and
address your order to Pattern- Dept.y
Wilson Publishing* Co., 73 West Ade
laide St., Toronto. Pattern^ sent by
return mail.
grown UE
those
“An
Cam-
Amusing Incident Related Fol
lowing Return from
Canada
London.—Prince George came back
from Canada with the’ Prince of
Wales with a pocket full of Canadian
dollar bills. ; The second night here
he went witlv friends to an after
theatre supper and when he went to
pay his bill he’ could not find any Eng
lish money in his purse.
The King’s youngest son then ap’-
pealed to his eldest .brother, also a
ihember of the party, biH^the. heir to
the throne was also without any cur
rency, ■
The two brothers looked at one .an
other for a moment, and,, desiring to
keep the facts a secret, whispered a
few words to one of their friends, and
the friend paid, and no one in the
cafe realized the financial embarrass
ment of the Royal’pair-—not even the
waiters.
!l
Britain’s Limit • /
Nation afid Athenaeum—We have
guaranteed the Franco-German fron
tier, and that is as far as we shall go.
If disarmament is impracticable Un
less we guarantee the frontiers of Po
land also, then disarmament id im
practicable. In thajt cade, it will not
be fair to lay the blamo dt our door;
indeed, in view of tho obligations
which we have assumed, it will be
monstrously unfair.; But we turn our
attention to our own disarmament
policy. The .causes of the failure of
the Three-Power Conference need, as
Lord Cecil says, to be “exploded.”
Whatever they may bo, they have as
suredly*. nothing to do with the se
curity or Insecurity of Easterh Eur
ope;
Dry sawdust and fine shavings make
clean and satisfactory bedding mate
rial for all kinds of animals.
When the supply of straw—the bed-
ding material almost universally used
on tire farm—is short it-may bo sup- ■
plemented with sawdust, or the latter
may be used alone** Dsry sawdust will
absorb from two to three times as
much liquid as ordinary straw, hence
it must be considered an excellent
material 40 soak, up liquid excreta, tlie^
most valuable part of. the manure.
Manure-from stables and cowbarns
in which sawdust has been used as a
little has ben found to be of good
quality and suitable for application to
most soils, more jjjwrt'icularly for heavy
loams. The suspicion that this type
of manure is injurious to the land is
apparently, without foundation since
enquiries made both in Canada and
the United States have failed to re- ""
veal any instances- in which such in
jury has resulted. However,, if an
excessive amount of sawditst has’ been
employed the-resulting manure might x
be of poor quality and possibly un
suitable for application to light sandy
loams, under,dry seasonal conditions.
Horse manure from stables using
sawdust heats very rapidly, when left'
in 'the pile' and the excessive for-4'
mentation that takes place will result
in a loss of nitrogen—a valuable plant
food. It fs- therefore advisable either
to mix such .manure with that from
tho cowbarn keepiug the pile moist
and compact, or to spread and inoo-i*
potato it at once in the’soil.-^-Expori-
mental Farms Note,
El
------------ ---------------------------------
the apartments of “his excellency,”
followed by an unintelligible word
which presumably represented “Ormuz
Khan.” The visitor wore a well-brush
ed but threadbare tweed suit, although
his soft collar was by no means clean.
He had a short, reddish-brown beard,
and very thick, curling hair of the
same hue protruded from beneath a
bowler hat which had seen long ser
vice.
Like Mr. Jarvis, he was bespec
tacled, and his teeth were much dis-
icoloredj and apparently broken in
front, as is usual with cobblers. His
hands, too, were toil-stained and his
nails very black. He carried a card
board box. He seemed to be extreme
ly nervous, and this nervousness pal
pably increased when the impudent
page, who was standing in the lobby,
giggled on hearing his inquiry.
“Shut up, Chivers,” snapped the
hall porter. “Ring the bell.” He
glanced at the cobbler. “Second floor,”
he, said, tersely, and resumed his
-study of a newspaper which he had
been reading.
* The representative of Mr. Jarvis
was carried up to the second floor
and the lift . nan, having indicated at
which door ho should knock, descend
ed again.
, There was a short interval, and
then the door Was opened by a man
Whoo looked like a Hindu. He wore
Correct morning dress ’and through
gold-rimmed pince-nez he stared in
quiringly at the caller.
“Is his excellency at home?*’ asked
the latter. “I’m from Mr, Jarvis, the
bootmaker.”
“Oh,” said the other, smiling
slightly, “Come in. What is your
name?”
“Parker, sir, Prom Mr. Jarvis.”
As the door closed Parker found
himself in a small lobby, Beside ah
’umbrella rack a high-backed chair
was placed, “Sit down,” he was di-
Minard’s Liniment for Toothache.
Dullness
“Dull boys, whose dullness is
from all work and' no play, are only
wasting their time and the time of
college professors, to say nothing of
money, when they insist on clogging
up the campuses.”
But there Is no child too dull—nor
. too bright—to receive benefit from kin
dergarten training. Don’t allow the
children of your community to be de
prived of this valuable experience.
The college is for the few; -the kin- dergarten^fbr all,
--------------------------------------
Ease in youth is the mother of (to
generacy.—Montaville Flowers,
not
Minard’s Lininiept for Asthma.\V
Song
Out. of long silence
I sirig myself free,
And find, in song
Tranquillity. " »
X*
For tvho would be sad
While he could sing
’Of people, Or - petals,
Or anything?'
—Elizabeth Ball, in The Stratford
Magazine.
To feel the right emotions is fully
as important as to hold the right
ideas and “the great‘service of religion
is the (^evelopnjent of the right emo
tions.—Geoffrey Parsonfe.
6
«*
The pace and range of modern life
ard reducing even domestic-love to the
status of a qxnvlt-lunCh^oouhler.-^-*
Rosita Forbes.
T.ho small boy Who used to take his
toys apart to See how they worked is
’■*>•*'**
to spell sep-i toys apart to see now they worked is We “got to* * now the wan who takes his ear apart
and talked* to sec wh
' tlie farm-
’myself to
in the or-
. -----—$——.--------
A motoring party riding near a
farm orchard, stopped their car,
jumped out and over tho fence'and
pluckod a bag full of applos. As they
passed tho faVmhousO* th'oy called out
to the owner :< “Wo helped (ohfservos
to your apples. Thought'*we’d toll
you/’ “Oh, that’s an right,’
er called Mok/' “I helped
your tools while you were'
chard.’’
'Every Meal
I AND
[jflNTINa
aro so easy and perfect IF* you
use the santc k In cl Of dyes Profes-
fiionaVDycrs use. Dyes that aro
put’up in highly Concentrated,
finely powdered, soluble fdi'rii*
No work to dissolve them.-
Never any shaving, scraping or
Crumbling' them up. They are^—*
DYES
It is estimated by the Forest Ser-
v,ico that the only economic use for
three-eighths of the land, area of Can
ada lies in. the growing of trees. This
vast area of territory,.while incapable
of successful agricultural production,
is, if permanently dedicated, protected,
and managed, suited to the production
of a timber jjrop which would guajs*
an tee fbr afl time the supply of raw
material for Canada’s v votf-using
Industries.