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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1896-2-6, Page 6The JIocse at rbe Qorner (CONTINUED.) She gave scarcely a thought to the con- fession she would have to make of that night's folly. To her husband, to the judge, to he whole world; she would tell all. Her sister's life was at stake: that sister who had been willing tie sac- rifice life itself for her. Dorothy could love as well as Laura, and act as bravely too, when the occasion came. She sent the steward for Captain Dun- das, and when he came, gave him the paper to read, and told him all, Yes, all. ZNor.did she seek to extenuate her fault, or•to find any excuse for her un- faithfulness, She released him from all moral ties :to her, and bade him seek forgetfulness in some far-off land. She must remain in England to vindicate her sister. Thesaiior listened very gravely to her story, and at first seemed too much. moved—we might almost say appalled -- to comment upon it. At length he questioned her about her intimacy with Kestrel, and received her solemn assur- ance that the evil which had been con- twmplated had not passed the limits of intention. In that faith he found some comfort, and his benumbed energies awoke to action. Captain Dundas issued orders that no one was to be allowed to leave the ship during his absence. Then the boat was lowered, and he took Dorothy ashore to the nearest magistrate, which resulted in the return with them of three con- stables, furnished with handcuffs and a warrant for the arrest, upon the deposi- tion of Dorothy Dundee, of one Dennis Donovan. The gentleman "wanted" was aroused from a heavy slumber bythe strong arm of the law, and, though at first mani- festly disconcerted, soon became amiably amenable, and prepared himself to ac- company his captors. "It's a moighty mistake you're mak- ing, I can tell yen," said he in his jaunt- iest tone. "Shure, it's the very best an- swer to the charge I've got, anyhow. It's a beautiful alabi I can prove, and you'll find I wasn't out of my bed on that night. at all, at all." They took him off the ship and back to London by the first train, and Dorothy Dundas went with them to the rescue of her noble sister. Her heart was full of hope and chastened joy. Confession bad swept away the lingering shadows which had hung, dark and chill, between her and her husband.' As he passed her over the side of the ship, Ben Dundas folded his errant wife closely to his breast, and whispered, as the tears stood in. his honest blue eyes: "You're a brave lass, and I trust you, my own dear, sweet little Dorrie. Carry this thing through, save Laura, and we'll be bound up, you and I, faster than ever for all our Iives to come." CHAPTER XXV. THE INFERNAL MACHINE. "Are you mad ? Will you not hear me? Will you not let me explain?" Manuel O'Connor—or Mary Murdoch, the daughter of Thoma Murdoch,as she had avowed herself—stood before Cecil Chester, wringing her hands in distress as she strove in vain to stem the torrent of his reproaches. The mortification of the rebuke he had received from his chief, the grave consequences to his party which might ensue that night,had excited him beyond all control; and the thought that he had been cozenedby one against whom his instincts had warned him from the very first, but whom he hadnevertheless trusted with his honour —to whom he had actually offered his name—filled him with afury of anger. Forcing his way to the drawing -room, where Muriel was distractedly pacing to and fro, he upbraided her 'in unmeasur- ed terms, accused her of basely tricking him, of profaning the solemnity and purity of affection, of having brought about his ruin and his disgrace. He would not listen to any defence; she had been making a mock of him- would have made him the tool of the vile machinations of blackguardly con- spirators. He cursed the hour when he had been inveigled into her den of mis- chief; he cursed each moment he had de- voted to contemplating her false fair face. She should never see him again— never! never! He took back his vows of love, cancelled for ever his offer of marriage. Let her give him back his paper—all: of them—all!—andhe would fly from her as he would from a pestil- ence. She flung herself at his feet and burst into tears. At any other time her na- tural pride would have dictated a very different reception of his re- proaches; but the parting with Laura Kingdon had unnerved her, and she felt altogether wretched and heart -broken. To learn, too. how serious must be the result of her impulsive robbery of the despateh-box seemed the crown of many an unworthy betrayal of Chester's con- fidence. She bowed herself and wept bitterly. Her tears brought a revulsion of feel- ing to. Cecil Chester. All his manhood and compassion answered to that appeal. What brutal things had he said? Would he not in truth give all the world to THE -Re-PLOSION. —AS THE INFERNAL efAcEaNie EACEED THE GEOUND IT Ex- pLODEa Wine A. TBIGHT.eui. coxcusSION. spare her one tear? He felt it in his heart, and began at once to assure her of his undying devotion, his perfect trust, and to beseech her forgiveness, It was a lovers' quarrel, a thunderstorm in the blue sky, and before long the sun burst through and their confidence wee' renewed, But time pressed—ab, how sadly itpressed r s sed upon Cecil Chester — and he must use winged speed to return with his papers to the House, There stood the box. He grasped it like his honour, and approached her to give one last kiss of forgiveness before he de- parted. But with a shriek she held his arm, bade him set down the box, open it instantly, and restore to her the.petition in favor of the release of Thomas. Mur- doch, Fenian. Struck by the sudden terror in her face, -he unlocked the box and produced the packet. "What is this?" he cried; "it is too heavy for a roll of paper." He looked at her ghastly pallor, and a suspicion came like a thunderbolt upon him. "Give it to me!" she screamed, as be bent down his ear to listen to a slight ticking sound within the packet. ! His answer was to take out his knife and rip the cover open. He came upon an iron canister, "And you gave this to me!" he ex- claimed; `you made me a messenger of death, and would have suffered me to bring destruction upon others if only I could be spared myself ! I thank you at least for your concern for me." "Thank me for that, forgive me for that: but do not blame me for what was done without my sanction or my know- ledge." "You gave it into my hands." "But I supposed it to be m etition. This thing was bstituted by—p`' "By whom?" She made no reply3 A low whirring sound within the ,canister had caught her ear. She snatched the accursed thing out of his hands, and flung it from her with all her strength. It struck against the side of the open French window, and fell just outside the room. As the infernal machine reached the ground it exploded with a frightful con- cussion. The house seemed to reel and shudder as Muriel O'Connor flung her arms about the man whose life she had blasted, CHAPTER XXVI. Love oomforteth like sunshine after rain. Sa txEsrn put. Dennis Donovan was duly brought to Loudon and incarcerated to await his examination. He maintained a jaunty air of indifference, and with the utmost assurance asserted that he had evidence which must effectively vindicate him from the capital ch Leaving him securely cared for, Dor- othy sought her sister with all baste. A visitor had been with Laura already. Lord Willmore, horrified by the morn- ing's news, had nevertheless gone at once to the support of his betrothed, using the influence of his position, a thing repugnant to him, to obtain an in- terview with the woman be loved. He steadfastly refused to believe that so gentle a creature could commit an act of violence, unless hn , self-defence which called for his approval and admiration. Laura had been locked up all night, a grey to the most dismal terrors. Before er rose in sombre view the crowded court, the harsh questioning, the tortur- ing delays, the great trial, the summing up of the judge, the damning verdict of the jury, the awful judgment, the gal- lows, and the shameful end. But all this faded into a yearned for prospect when confronted with the alternative of suspicion falling upon her sirter--her dear little "Dorrie." Would it were all over, and the frightful expiation made, if that would secure safety and peace to the one whose honour she preferred to her own life! The visit of Lord Willmore was a grievous embarrassment to her. His manly sympathy and yearning love wrenched at her heart. How could she reply to his questions upon the charge against her? Unable to profess inno- cence—not daring to tell him of the martyrdom to which she was determined to submit, lest the object of her sacri- fice should be defeated by his interfer- ence—she was compelled to remain deaf to his entreaties, silent under his adjur- ations to tell him the whole truth and claim the white handed innocence which he would stake his soul upon. Willmore's reaction from his first sus- picion and jealousy was:complete, and he sought to atone for the guiltiness of doubting her by a confidence that had no basis in reason or judgment, but which sprang directly from the heart and was an instinct of his love. In vain did she attempt to make him believe her guilty. She could not aver positively that she had committed this crime; she only bade him depart and no longer concern himself with the fate of "an unworthy girl." "Unworthy?" be cried. "I will swear you are not unworthy of the best devo- tion that the best man in the world could give. Not a thousandmysteries, though they were infinitely more inscrutable; not a thousand villainous accusations; no! not even your own confession, shad convince me that you are unworthy, of the truest love, the most absolute faith, of such a one as myself." So strong a proof of his devoted affec- tion did more to reduce the sorrow- stricken girl to weakness than all the gathering clouds of circumstance. She loved him tenderly, truly, with the all- sufficingness of a maiden love, and to lose him, to stand under a shadow, and such a shadow, before his eyes, was agony to her. Truly the scaffold had no terrors for her to equal that. He left her sobbing hysterically, and went, although he knew it was a forlorn hope, to offer bail for her temporary release, This was of course refused. In a state borderingon distraction he set°of to find Cecil Chester, and learnt, after pro- tracted inquiry, that Chester had not been home during the past night, had not 'been seen at his clubs, and, by mys- teriously disappearing on the previous evening from the House with the notes and papers essential to the promotion of the Irish measure introduced by the Chief. Secretary, had left the Government in a very awkward quandary. Concern for his friend was therefore added to Willmore's distress on account of Laura, and he returned to the latter in a most disordered condition. But with Laura things had taken a turn for the better during his absence. An unexpected witness had been present at her examination—no other than Dor- othy Dundas, whose singular resem- blance to her sister had borne out her claim to be identified as the midnight fugitive in Laura Kingdon's stead. Dorothy's circumstantial account of the events of that night on the railway - platform, together with the arrest of Dennis Donovan, was sufficient to justi- fy the magistrate in dismissing the charge against,Laura, who,: now relieved from anxiety on behalf of her sister, wah able to account for her possession of the dag- ger; the ticket -collector, too, when con- fronted with the sisters, flatly declined to swear that Laura Kingdon was the woman hed e lea seen n at the station, atnon. Before this, however, availed herself of Laura'sDorothy le had perlessneas. to oppose her, and made a full and free confession to Willmare, which dispelled the mystery that had hung like an. un- wholesome fog between the lovers. Reluctant as ahs was to accept rescue at the coat of her sister's shame, the re- lease was to Laura like the.salvation of a lost soul, implying as it did escape from dire peril, and restoration to the happy privilege of loving one who had been tried and not found wanting, As they were leaving the , court Dor- othy was accosted by a police -sergeant, who required her at once to accompany hint to a police -station at the East, End of London, there to formally identify Dennis Donovan as the man she had seen murder Ralph Kestrel ; the import- ance of ,the case being such that the police were anxious to see the suspected murderer committed for trial without delay. Lord Willmore and Laura volunteered to accompany her, the latter feeling that so savage a beast could hot b$ caged too 'soon. In the gloomy room devoted to the purposes of justice in the East End police -station they were kept waiting for a few minutes, while the magistrate disposed of some remaining charges of "drunk and disorderly" against certain frowsy -looking women and equally dis- reputable men ; then Dennis Donovan was led in and placed in the dock be- tween two constables. These spoke to thearrest of the ac- cused on the disposition of one Dorothy Dundas, "Fair, and who may Dorothy Dundas be?" inquired the prisoner good •hum- ouredly. "Have you any witnesses who can identify this man?" asked the magistrate. As Dorothy was about to step intothe box, Laura put her sister aside and faced the magistrate, In a few words Laura told the court who she was, and the story of her arrest for the murder of Ralph Kestrel, and of her unexpected discharge, the constable who had fetch- ed Dorothy testifying to its truth. In reply to the formal demand whether he wished to ask any questions, Donovan shook his head. Then came Dorothy's turn. "Begorra!" muttered the prisoner as she stepped into the box; "it's two of 'em she is, entirely;" and the magistrate's keen eye detected his changing color and confused manner during Dorothy's cir- cumstantial account of the events of the night of the murder, Then Donovan was asked. if he had anything to object to the police's request for a remand. "Faith, no," said he; "I reserve my defence. It's a beautiful alabi I can prove, be jabers! Constable, will ye send to Miss Muriel O'Connor?" and he gave her address. "It's not much goodthat will do you," returned the constable as be made an entry of the address in his notebook. "What d'ye mane?" asked the prison- er quickly. The officer turned to the magistrate. "This Miss Muriel O'Connor, your worship," he said, "is either dead or dying." A ghastly change came over the face of Donovan. "Deador dying?" repeated the magis- trate. "From what causal" "Ay, from what cause?" repeated Donovan, whose features twitched and worked with the high excitement under which he was labouring. "There was an explosion," said the constable slowly, "at the house named by the prisoner, last evening, supposed to be of an infernal machine containing dynamite. The lady,Miss Muriel O'Con- nor, was picked up insensible and 'taken to the hospital." "What!" shrieked Donovan. "He lies! he lies! I gave the machine to him, THE CONFESSION.—"HE LIES! RE LIES!" not to her! I saw him taking it to the Parliament House before I left." "You gave it?" queried the magis- trate. "Yes, Igave its I gave it! D'ye hear? And I dont care. who knows, or what comes of it, if I've killed her!" A terrible apprehension flitted across Lord Willmore's mind as ho listened, for, although warned that all he said would be taken as evidence against him, Donovan broke out into maledictions upon Cecil Chester, who had been his rival in the love of the woman whom he now accused himself of having killed— Cecil Chester, whom he would have de- stroyed as pitilessly as he struck down Ralph Kestrel. Yes, he admitted all. His wild grief at the supposed destruc- tion of the woman he had vainly adored spent itself in fury at the miscarriage of his diabolical vengeance, and he boasted exultantly of the occasion on which his hate had borne its bloody fruit. Willmore began an eager question to the constable, but was cut short by the usher calling for silence in the court; the magistrate, remarking curtly that he remanded the prisoner for a week, intimated that, he was waiting to • hear the next case. Outside the court, Willmore and Laura learned that a gentleman ' was with Muriel at the time of the explosion. "He was injured; but not nearly so' seriously as the lady," explained the constable. 'She seemed to have tried to protect him, and got worse hurt herself in con- sequence. He gave noname, and they were then taken to the same hospital." But the constable was wrong. Muriel O'Connor was neither dead nor dying.;, for some time she lay in a very critical` condition, and scarcely any hope was en- tertained of her recovery. At length her splendid constitution triumphed, and, surrounded by all the helpful influences, of love and friendship, she was nursed. back to life. Her sorrow at the injustice she had done to Laura was very keen; but the. latter told her to show her peni- tence by getting well ast'quickly 'as pos- sible: advice which Muriel followed to such good effect that on a brilliant morn- ing in October the bells of St . Subic, rang out a wedding peal which served for both Muriel and Laura, Chester bad quickly recovered from his injuries, and he and Willmore had stipulated with the girls to make a "double event" of it. When the officiating clergyman, .an old college chum of the two men. asked concerning. Laura, "Who giveth this woman?" a bluff and hearty voice de- clared: "I do, and no son of the sea ever gave a better ;" and the broad and genial face of Captain Dundas beamed like a new - risen sun on all around. For some time Muriel's new-found happiness was disturbed by the dread lest the society of which she had form- erly been a member should seek to wreak their vengeance on her much -loved hus- band. Donovan had "died game,"'re- fusing to speak a work, But Cecil Chester laughed at Muriel's fears, knowing that for their own safety's sake "the brotherhood" would be chary of interfering with people who knew so much about them as did. "Muriel O'Connor" and the late private secretary to the Chief Secretary for Ire- land. TILE END. KNEW ONLY BUSINESS. A Story of a Young Man Who Despised Books and Lost'a'Wrl. A young man through ignorance once handicapped himself heavily in life's race. By an erroneous line of reasoning he had come to the conclu- sion that education—the education of schools and colleges—never helped any one. "Look at So-and-so," he said. "He graduated from Harvard and now he's tending bar. And This -and -that, he's a Bronnell man and he's washing win- dows." Then he mentioned other men who had risen from nothing to prominent positions with no help but their own wills and their native strength ; but he never took into account any but ex- treme cases, and it never occurred to him that education might have helped some who were up, though it had been unable to save some who were down. "A business experience is the only thing," he said. So before he had laid even the foun- dation of an education he took a busi- ness position. He worked hard and he did fairly well—not so very well, for he was only an average young man and needed much developing but as well as could be expected ; and his mistaken idea grew upon him. Ho eschewed books of all kinds. "I read the papers," he said ; "that is, all the news items. I buy all the prominent papers in the city every morning. A man who' is in business must keep up with the times. (The young man was clerk in a shoe store.) I never read anything else." And he bragged about it and thought himself abreast of the age, and threw mud at the public schools, and would have changed them all into warehouses and grain elevators, and would. have set all the small boys to selling papers and blacking boots so that they might learn the value of a penny. Then he was invited out to dinner and sat next to the nicest girl he had ever met. She was a very pretty girl, and she came ofnoocl family and had been well brouglkt up. The young man had just reached the age where a pleas- ant home and some one to sit at the other end of the table seemed very de- sirable, and, being a careful young man, he had saved enough money to put such a future just within possibil- ity. When he saw the girl he said to himself, "That's the one," and when he found himself seated next her at the table he was filled with a deep joy and immediately decided to make himself as agreeable to her as possible. But for a time he could think of nothing to say. The girl did not start a topic, and he ate oysters and soup and got fairly started on the roast before he could muster np courage to hazard a re- mark. At last he said : "I see wheat's gone up a point." "Indeed?" said the girl, but she did not seem much interested in the sub- ject, and the young man decided it was hardly suitable. The roast had been finished before he could think of any- thing else to say. Soon the silence be- came insupportable. • "Did you read about the scrap in the caucus last night?'' he asked. • "No," said the girl. So the young man started to tell her about it. He explained the trouble and the reasons for the trouble, and was just beginning to touch on what should have been done—he had 'found that in an editorial—when he noticed that the girl was not listening. He stopped, considerably embarrassed. He played With . his spoon for a moment'or'so and then a bright idea came to him. "Where did you spend the summer?". he asked. The girl'brightened up. "We wenteast," she said. "We saw the house where "!ongfellow used to live, and -0, lotsof things." The young man looked perplexed. • "Longfellow?" lie said reflectively. "I ought to know that name. Was he the fellow that skipped out with the £40';000 a while back?" The young man did not marry the irl. Just Saved Rim. • A. certain: Miss X. was in the habit of calling on a minister's family often, and sometimes the call lengthened Into visits which were very' wearisome. One day the .dominie, in his study, heard Miss X.'e voice, and kept long, andvigoreusly at work. Some hours afterward, when his wife summoned him to lunch, he call- ed downstairs:.,. "`Ali right—and is that bore gone?" "Yes, dear," ,re- lied the wife, "but Miss X. is here, an will take lunch with ust !" Thus she saved his life.—Boston Tran- script. That small heel caps of waste leather will keep the holes from the heels 'of stockings. That a corncob dried and soaked in kerosene will kindle a fire as quickly as a fire brick. That china has succeeded silver in its USG on the dressing table. AMERICAN CI Y STATISTICS. T AT 1CS Chicago has 21,835 Norwegians. Chicago has the largest Bohemian oolony,25,105, Boston is said to have the crookedest streets, Nausea City is worth $58,967,800, and owes $864,123.. liPoonairtz'land, Ore,, claims to have 106 mil - Albany and Austin have the finest State buildings. Pittsburg is worth $275,650,166, and owes $8,483,991. Philadelphia has the largest English colony, 38,026. Galveston, New 'York and Key West aro island cities, New York has the largest colony of Germans, 21, 01723. The most northern city in our territory is Sake, Alaska., Charleston, S. C., is worth $23,80,0000, ad n owes $3, 880,000. St. Louis Is the fourth manufacturing city in this country. New York has the greatest number of Austrians, 27,193. The leading city in the manufacture of iron is Pittsburg. Cincinnati is . worth $188,751,850, and has a debt of $26,24,0197. The estimated population of Phila- delphia in 1895 was 1,200,000. The debt of Chicago at the beginning of 1895 was $17,772,950. The most southern city of the United States is Key Vest. The city having the longest blocks is said to be Louisville, Ky. New York has the best water supply. Its aqueduct cost $$0,000,000. Jersey City covers twelve and. one-half miles of territory. Boston has thirty-seven square miles of area and 500,000 population. The assessed valuation of property in New York City is x1.613,057,7$5 St. Louis is the largest tobacco menu- fac:uring center in the world, Denver is worth $69,512,000, and has a public debt of but $2,053,000. 'The 40,000 people of Little Rook, Ark:, live on eight square miles. Chicago is first in the number of its Polish inhabitants, having 24,086, Jersey City has $16,700,000 of debt,and property valued at $855,000,000, Albany, N. Y:, has an area of nine square miles and a debt of $3,202,865. Chicago is the greatest lumber center, the second being Tonawanda, N, Y. Indianapolis is well off, being worth $103,000,C0) and owing but $1,884,500. Philadelphia is said to have more trees than any other city in this country. Helena, Mont., claims to be the richest city of its population in the world. Newark, N. J., has eighteen squato miles of territory and 220,000 population. The 300,000 people of Detroit occupy twenty-nine square miles of territory. Boston has more Scotch than live in any city of Scotland save the four largest. Savannah, Ga, has 62,107 population living on five square miles of ground- St. Paul, the capital of Minnesota, is worth $124,408,205, and owes $8,412,100. Cleveland, O.,is said to have time hand- somest residence street in this country New Orleans has 255,000 people, and extends over sixty square miles of terri- tory. SORTED AND SIFTED. The deepest artesian well is atBuda- pest. Depth 8,140 feet The highest chimney in the world is at Glasgow. Height 474 feet. The largst library is in Paris, the Na- tional, containing 2,200,000 volumes. The deepest, coal mine in Europe is at Lambert, Belgium, Depth, 8,490 feet. The largest landed estate is that of the Czar Nicholas, of Russia, 100,000,000 acres. The highest monument in the world is Washington's at Washington, Height, 555 feet. Tho highest price paid for a modern painting was $110,600 for Millet's "An- gles." The largest bronze statue is that of Peter the Groat at St. Petersburg. Weight, 1,000 tons. In India every resident must, under penalty of fine, have his name written up at the entrance of his house. Australia has a population of less than 5,000,000, but economists declare it could support 100,000,000 with ease. The largest bell in Japan, that in the temple of Kioto, is twenty-four feet high and sixteen feet in diameter across the rim. The new Baltic canal has cost $40,- 000,000 and is fifty-nine miles long. At night it will be lighted from end to end with electric lights. A small electric lamp is being used in- stead of a hell in seine telephone exchan- ges in England. The call for connection lights the lamp. The largest bronze feasting in the United States is the buffalo's head which hangs over the eastern entrance of the Council Bluffs, Omaha bridge. The largest telegraph office in the world is the general post -office building, London. There are over 8,000 operators, 1,000 of whom are women. The batteries are suxplied by 30,000 cells. Nearly $400,000 is the amount obtained from the bicycle tax this yearby the French Government, the number of ma- chines declared being just under 200,000. They are well spread over the whole country, since Paris and the •department of the Seine return 38,000,less than a fifth ea the total. CHOICE BITS. There is no perfect meal without a woman to do the honors of the table. Water is as good as wine, and the following toasts may serve as hints to the father, brother, husband or guest who is able to talk; yet needs a little aid to lift him out of the common rut: Woman -The sweetest creature the Lord ever made. Woman—The bitter half of man. (For the use of a soar old bachelor.) Woman—The source of help, happiness and Heaven. Woman—She needs no eulogy; she speaks for herself. Woman -A creature "nobly planned, to warn, to comfort and command." Woman—Once there was a woman, sir, and, here she. is! Woman -The fairest work of the great Author; the edition is large, and no man should be without a copy. Woman—The tyrant we love, the friend we trust. Woman—God bless her, the Boss of all oreatien. L BROAD MINDED DIVINE. DOES NOT HESITATE TO SPEAI FOR THE GOOD HIS WORDS WILL DO. A Scholarly Christian and a Beloved. Pastor Who Believes in Training the Body as Well as the Mind. The twenty-ninth day of, April is a notable day: in the history of the May Memorial Church in Syracuse, as it is the anniversary of the installation of the Rev. Samuel R. Calthrop, D. D., the prominent divine who so long has ministered to them spiritually as pastor of the church. Dr. Calthrop was born in England, and received his preparatory scholastic training at Sr. Paul's School, London. Entering Trinity College, Cambridge, he soon became a bright figure in that brilliant coterie of scholars, literary men and wits that followed in the tra- ditions of Macaulay and his associates at the university. ,In the middle of the century he visited Syracuse and received his first impressions of the young city, that nearly a score of years later he was to choose as his home and in which his labors, have been so long and effective. The masterly pulpit addresses of Dr. Calthrop have had their fundamentals drawn from the deepest research. His people have been instructed by him, not only in things spiritual, but in the elements of the broadest culture in lit- erature, in art, and in science. His young . men have been taught a mus- cular system of morality. In these and iv many other ways has lie endeared hintelf to his congregation, which is one of the most highly cultured and wealthy in the city. Dr Calthrop has a striking personality. To the eye he is a most picturesque seseese,,,es see -gee' I1Ev. DIt. CALTItl.OI', SYIIM.'gSE, N.Y. figure. His bead and face, framed in luxuriant masses of silky, snow-white hair and beard, are of the type of Bryant and Longfellow. Although over seventy years old, his rather spare figure is firm• and erect, and every movement is active and graceful. His whole life long he has been an ardent admirer and promoter of athletic sports, and even at his advanced ago plays tennis with all the vigor and skill of a young man. To Syrecusans, perhaps, this remarkably versatile man is most widely known, apart from his profession, as a scientist. On a bright April morning a reporter followed the winding driveway that curving around the hill leads to Calthrop Lodge, an old.fashloned red brick man- sion, surrounded by a grove of oaks and chestnuts. Wearing a black skull cap and a black coat of semi-clonleel cut, the master of Calthrop Lodge graciously re- oeived the reporter who called to inquire about his health, for, though manfully repressing all possible evidence of his suffering, Dr. Calthrop for many years had been the victim of a distressing affliction, until by fortunate chance he was led to take the remedy which has effectually cured him. During more than half of his pastorate in Syracuse,Dr. Calthrop has been troub- led with rheumatism, and at intervals he suffered excruriatiug agony I ann it, At times the pain was so groat as to prevent him from walking. Many rem- edies were tried without success, and he and his friends lied given up hope of a permanent cure or of more than tempor- ary relief when he took the preparation that drove the disease completely from his sysem, In .a letter written' to the editor of the Evening News, of Syracuse, last year, Dr. Cal:•Ihrop told of his affliction and its cure. This is Dr. Calthrop's letter:— To the editor of the Evening News, —Dear Sir: Moro than e5 years ago I wrenched my left knee, throwing it al- most from its socket. Great swelling !allowed, and the synovial juice kept leaking from the joint. This made me lame for years, and from tiros to time the tweak knet, would give out entirely and the swelling would commence. This was always oc- casioned by some strain like a sudden stop. The knee gradually recovered, but always was weaker than the other. About 15 years ago the swelling re- commenced, this time without any wrench at all, and before long I real- ized that this was rheumatism settling In the weakest part of the body. The trouble came so often that I was oblig- ed to c.irry an opiate in may packet,. everywhere I went I had generally a packet in my waistcoat pocket, but in going to a conference. in Buffalo I for -'e got it, and, as the car was 'damp and cold, before I got to Buffalo my knee was swollen to twice its natural size. I had seen the good effects that. Pink Pills were having in such cases, and I tried themmyself with the result. that I have never had a'twinge or a swell- ing since. Thiswas effected by tak ng seven or eight boxes. • I need not say that I am thankful for my recovered independence, but _ I will add that may knee is far stronger than it has been for 35 years. I took one pili,' at my meals,. three times a day. 1 gladly give you this statement. Yours, S. ,Ii., CALTIROP. Since writing this statement Dr. Cal- throp ; has not had any visits from his old enemy, and is oven more cordial now in his recommendation of Dr. Wil- liams' Pink Pills than he was then. To the reporter he said: "I ani continually recommending Dr. Williams 'Pink • Pills to acquaiy,tauces and those I chance to meet who are troub- led with rheumatism or locomotor ataxia. "Pink Pills," continued Dr. Calthrop, "are the best thing of the kind I know of. They are infinitelysuperior to most medicines that are put up for sale. I know pretty well what the pills contain, and I consider it. an excellent prescrip- tion. It is such a one its -I' might t from my doctor, but he would not give it in such a compact form and so canyon - lent to take, I recommend the pills'highly to all who h hua, loco motorare ataziatrouorbled anywithi 11,2r poeverishmmtisment of• the blood."