HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Advocate, 1899-9-28, Page 6MISS CAPRICE.
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SY .ST* GEORGE RATHFONE
Author of "" Doctor ,Tack," "Doetor Jack's Wife," "Captain.
T one' `Wise Pauline of New York," Eta.
112
"Enter quickly. I beg, Lady neth." 6 IieasenPreserve hine!" saes iad.y
She nu.= her head in curiosity for
Ruth, wringing her clasped !lauds in an
one last look, impelled by an unknown . agnny or fear.
power -turns. and is at once petrified They see the youth. is hardly more,
to
by what she sees. offer his bound arm to the beast, and
They rota a the look of horror an her ; those glittering fangs at once close upon
I(1(' ' face, ani! hest; fictively gee: ine. it,
elms se to ;rant El the 'ireetien where " Then. quick as a flash, basin„ filled
leer. the*;8v[i�J hetes wee teen, the dog's ,'taws, John Craig throws him..
'To ?e z• • :ani'. s=+'•3 tie emcee -me in the seat forward, his whose effort being to
El:Foe m. mei is me, melee ..•loan thomee crash the animal to the ground by lila
ret n:e.e .ng ,:.eat : r the see:debt Iexe, la)e ci weight.
enter of the stree=t -•a xemirsemirsn:""
nlsive i It is the work of a strategist. A ret-
kithe and ehunter when 1•y a tierce pan..
! o ng the braves-. object, trey.enough a titer could not do better titan this.
As John has expel it'd. the dog, Mk,co?onel Lionel g"ve 1 gasp. He is ; en by surprise,does not offer the resist-
tretni+ling all over, fe'r .t dhauces ilial i ante that his powerful str,•neth would
this brave lecher, who has just lea warrant, but is at o' o borne baek-
forle.n hopes in the Zeta war, and Per' ! ward, nor can he iri+':r t' his hold from
formed prodigies of volar on I:gyptittn:.. the cloth -bound arm which his teeth
bathe lees, lies a 1',eenliar dread of have senzed upon
dugs, iuheriietd ftnm eee of his parents. A strutle under such circumstances
it is not the aminiltl that has tiled must be a terrible thine, and the short,
Lady Ruth's atte..t:,.n, Just in front
end directly in line of !ho dog's advance
is a small native MIMI that has been
playing in the street.
He tanrtot beover'tree years of age,
and with his curly !.lack head and hale
naked bode presents a picture of robust
health.
Apparently engeweed in his play, he
sees and hears t o ling of the clamor
around until. eh:melee to look up, he
fees the deg, anti t .er'.essly extends bis
chubby antes ton aril it.
The picture is one never to be for-
SFtten.
It thrills every" en* who aloha on.
No one stems to have a gun or wee- t unturally his port OL
eoa er ;any eine, .t peeuear paralysis With a grip of hen he clutches the
affeets them, a ietine of dumb horror. brute's throat, and in a fen' moments
A shriek soutel ereea a window is the dog stiffens in tlt•atle
seen the form of a native woman(, who The young nre,7ieal stildent arises,
Wrings her hands in terrible anguish. but the ferocious l.•.:':- lies there harm
The a iEd's mother: t,od pity her! to less in the roadway. The smallest child
be an eyewitness ofher darling's tate. in Valetta may play uta the street now
Lady Ruth turas to tate colonel, to and fear no evil, thnui;s to the love one
the man who reeettly proudly de- Ameretan bears for hie mother.
dared that no elaelitli woman ever Now that the danger is past, people
asked a favor that a British emear flock out.
would not grant. no matter what the With the rest. our tourists haster
risk. toward the young kern. A form alien
"Save the dariiug:" her pallid lips pest them with wild ,ryes and dishevel
atter. ed hair; a form that pounces upon the
He trembles all over, groans, takes little chap. :still crying in fright, and
a could(' of tottering steps forward, presses him convulsively to her breast
and then leans again.t the wall for sup- That is the steelier of the child.
bort. They rush to the spot, some to Conn
"I Gannet," he gasps, gratulate the youth who slew the dog,
Other Britons there are who would others to gaze upon the horrible spec -
he equal to the eIu rzency. 'Mortal man taele the animal presents as he lies there
has never ,lone almbr in this world that devoid of life.
Englishman dare n..t imitate, and indeed Lady Muth conies with the rest, and
they generally lead. It is unfortunate upon her fair face and in her sunny
for Ea;; gild that an antipathy for dogs eyes can be seen n warmthof keenest
runs in the Blunt iaunly. admiration, such as poor Blunt filled to
This time Lady Ruth does not say receive when he leaned far over the
'coward," but her face expresses the dizzy precipice to socure the flower Miss
ene contempt she feels. With that Caprice desired.
mother's shrieks in h'r ears, what can "Oh, doctor, how noble of you! I shall
she think of a mint who will hesitate never forgive myself for the foolisb
to save a sweet chili, even at the risk blunder I made. Sete:. these people look
of meeting the meet terrible death upon you as a here, for you risked your
known w the world': hfe for a child of Malta. I am proud
She tarns to face the man who a short to be known as your friend.
time i:ei'ore positively refused to risk Her looks as well es her words are
his life bevause alis' Caprice desired it, enough to send any man into the sew
Vvhat can she hope from him? enth heaven of delight.
As elle turns she discovers that John John Craig is very white; a set look
Craig is no longer there, though three is upon his faee. but he smiles a little.
seconds before his hand was on her "I am glad the little fellow was not
arra. touched."
A shout comes frotn the street, where, "And you?" she gasps, a sudden tear
when last she looked, not a living thing arising -
could be seen but the advancing mad He slowly unwinds the coat which.
dog and the kneeling child. A shout was thrust into the mad dog's mouth,
that proceeds from a strong pair of and then rolls up his shirt -sleeve. to
Imes, and is intended to turn the at- disclose to her horrified eyes the blue
tention of the Witte toward the person imprint of two fangs in the muscular
emitting it A sheet that causes hope part of his forearm.
to thrill in many hearts, to inspire a
confidence that the innocent may be
saved. CHAPTER III.
er it can be made the better.
They see the man throw himself upon
the brute; they knew hie ether hand
hassought the animal's throat, as the
WY Means of ending his exietenee.
Prayes for his safe ty arise from many
a heart. as the people'wateh the dread•
ful conflict from windows, and baleon.
les, and other places where they have
sought refuge.
The struggle is of brief duration.
John has the advittat ge 'n the contest,
and the desire in hie emu! to prevent
this mad beast teem injuring others
1er,ds frim a strougth h'und what i;
The young doctor from Chicago is
seen bounding to meet the maddened
brute, now so terribly close to the
child.
None knows better than John Craig
what the result of a bite may be. He
has seen more than one hydrophobia
patient int et death in the most dreadful
manner known to the profession.
Yet he faces this fate now, the man
who was thought too cowardly to crawl
out along that bleak rock and secure
a white flower for a girl's whim.
He goes not because it will be a great
thing to do, or on account of the ad-
nairation which success will bring him.
Teat mother's .shriek of agony rings in
Ills ears, and if he even knew that
he was going to his death, yet would he
still assume the risk.
It was on account of a mother -his
own -he refused to risk his life before,
and the same sacred affection inspires
bis action now, for he could never Iook
into her dear eyes again, except in a
shame -faced way,if he allowed this child
to meet death while he stood an.inac-
tive spectate- of the tragedy.
As he advances, John draws his right
arm from his coat -sleeve. It is not the
act of thoughtlessness, but has been
done with a motive.
When the coat is free, with a quick
motion, he whirls it around, so that it
rolls about his left arm.
Those who see the act comprehend
his purpose, and realize that he means
to force the brute to seize. him there.
Ml this has occurred in a very brief
time. Perhaps a quarter of sminute
leas elapsed since Lady Ruth turned to
Colonel Lionel, and besought his aid.
John Craig has at last accomplished
one purpose, Just as the mad dog is
about to snap at the child, the young
medical student snatches the boy, and
throws him to the rear. The ohild rolls
over and over, and then, sitting up,
begins to cry, more from surprise at
the rough treatment than because he is
hurt.
There Is no time for John to turn and
fly and pick up the child on the way.
The dog is •upon him.
John has only a chance to drop ort his
knee, and thrust his Left arm forward..
Those who are watching, and they are
mean hold their breath in d
y, - sus-.
..T
She looks up into his eyes; there is a
set expression to be seen there, but his
face is no whiter than before, although
it must be a terrible shock to any mar
to see the imprint of a mad dog's teeth
in the flesh of ,his arm.
"Oh, it has happened, the worst that
could come about! What will you do
doctor'?"
He is a man of medicine,and he knows
full well what such a• wound means.
"There is only one thing to be done
Excuse me for a minute or two, Lady
Ituth."
He springs away from her side, and
turning with surprise,she sees him dart
into the smithy of a worker in iron
just down the road a bit.
"Let us follow him!" says Philander.
"Poor, poor boy!" remarks Aunt
Gwen.
"Oh, aunt! do you believe he will go
mad?" gasps the young lady in a trem-
bling voice.
"I riff afraid; I have known of oases
that happened like this. One thing's
in his favor."
"And stha.t?",
"He wasn't bit in the face or on the
hand."
"How does that matter?" demands
Sh arpe.
She gives him a look; of scorn.
Then, ignoring her sponse, she says:
as if continuing her speech to Lady
Ruth:
"Tike dog's teeth went through sev-
eral thicknesses of woollen cloth before
entering the skin. The fabric very pro
bably absorbed the poison. A rattle•
snake's fangs are a different thing
they cut through the cloth and the poi-
son is then injectoil from the 'hollow
teeth or fangs."
"Oh!"
They have reitchecl the smithy, and,
standing in the door -way, witness a sin-
gular scene.
The smith is a brawny native Maltese.
with a form a Heeenles might envy.
He has just taken: from the fire a sten•
der rod of iron, one end of which is
hissing hot, even red.
With this he advances upon John
Craig, who has ]aid. his Farm, bared
almost to the shoulder, upon a ]nigh
window ledge.
Then the iron just touches the fled)
and a. little gust of white smoke puffs.
up,
"Jove!' the boy has grit."" mutters
Colonel Li,onel, unable to restrt;in bis
adman (trolleven fur a rival in love.
As if oe ereonte with the sensation
of inflietin* seach pain, the blacksmith
shudders antl draws back.
"Again, it is not near enough," cries
Jelin Craig,
The blacksmith shakes his bead.
"I cannat," be says, in English,
"My life may depend on It; man. This
Is no time for hesitation, Give me the
Itis words are spoken with author
ity, and the brawny smith surrenders
the rod of glowing iron.
Without au instant's hesitation., only
eonxprei„ 'hps fimlar,
'elle Clue tssingoauis preslises iiiarrely d-hottogeitirone
upon his ann.
`.Then he tosses the hissing thing aside
and begins to draw his shirt over the
raw red sear an inch square, which the
merciless brand has seared upon hit
white arm.
Seeing the blanched face of Lady
Rnth, and the anxious .countenances of
the others near -ay,, the doetor. who
hag recovered from the shock, smiles
in a reassuring way.
"I am sorry you saw this; 1 didn't
intend you should. • Let us go to the
hotel! he says, slipping a coin In the
bands of the honest smith, who seerea
loth to accept it.
Then the party continrle down in the
direction of the hotel, where they stop
while the steamer undergoes repairs.
"Colonel Blunt, will you do rue the
fasor to come to guy room? I went
to put a small bandage with iodoform
on the burn," he says aside, but Lady
Muth !tears it.
""Colouel Llunt, indeed, wbut sort of
trained nurse (10 you suppcise he would
snake? I have had (" Perleneme on
may smile if You like. Tell the coh,nel
where to fine your isox of liniments.
and bandages and bring it to neem
"But, ray: dear Lat13---•-'
"Nor a word. doctor. I shall esteem
it en honor; and what 1 leek in seined -
knowledge my aunt can supply."
This ciiuclies the wetter, and John
can offer no fttrt:)er argument against
her nih; so Blunt, the Royal Engineer
elheer, is sent after the doctors ease,
whkel errnntd he performs will:ui 1y
enough. for elthuueh he knows this iste
fair has brighte.tied up the ehauces of
his rival, still, as ren I' nglishinate be
has a deep iahorn admiration for brav-
ery, no matter whether shown in a Zulu
warrior, armed with war club stud es•
segai, or in a Yeel.t'e youth who throws
himself beteg e , e a lathy child of Mal"
to and a mal dog. to reeeive the mon-
ster's attack.
So he hastere me -stairs to the room
which John ellexateler Craig temperer -
occupies, epees the door, and speed-
ily return. with the little travelling
case in width the y„uug physieian keeps
mane import:let euetlieiues, an assort-
ment of ready iiuie,tent and that, with.
the wonderful tom o.li;il agents known to
mrdern surgery.
To John's surprise, after he has open-
ed the cast* and started to arrange the
small bandage, it is gently taken from
bis laaucis.
"Allow nee" says the pretty "doll,"
as he has at times been forced to men-
tally tern) I.:;tly IEtrile, after sits has
played with his admiration.
"But, do you know----"
"I never told yteal my uncle was a
surgeon, Sir Archil,ald Gazzam="
"What: that meat man your uncle!"
cries the student, with the deep respect
a young et.D• has fur a famous practi-
tion•
'"yeser; and more than once I leave es
silted him in s..me simple case at the
house. He gave 11,e credit for a fair
amount of aaer-.-e.„
"Fair amount! Jove; for e, girl you
have a wonderful quantity. Why, I
believe you'd hart' faced that brute
yourself, if I hadn't gone," he says,
enthusiastically, the others being mo-
mentarily et the window to witness a
procession pass the hotel, with the
dead dog on a litter.
"No, no, I could not do that; but
Dcector Chicago, was that teb,at sent
you out to meet that awful beast?"
Her head is bent over her work. so
tl..at the intense blush remains unseen,
but it fades away at his cool reply.
"Oh, no; quite another thing! I told
you I never considered myself a cow-
ard, and when, I saw that dear little
child apparently doomed to a terrible
death, I could see the eyes of one 1
revere looking at me, and though death
were sure I could, not refrain."
He says this quietly and earnestly,
Yet without an apparent desire to
arouse any feeling, of chagrin on her
side.
Lady Ruth bites her lips, but her
heeds are (.'eady, and the touch is ex-
ceedingly gentle as she binds up the
ugly red mark which he has inflicted
on himself with what she is disposed
to term Spartan -!tike courage ,
"There; it is done, doctor."
"And neatly done. too," says Amt
Gwen, with a nod and a look of pride.
"I thank you sincerely, Lady Ruth."
`,'Ahl you are a thousand times wel-
come. There is not a woman in Val-
etta who would not feel it an honor
to bind up the wound of .the hero who
sated that Maltese child," says this
young lady, frankly.
More shouts without.
This time the men of 'Valetta are cis
ntoring far the American to show him-
self. Me do not know much of Ame-
rica, but the recognize true grit wher-
ever they meet it.
Of course, a rush is made for the
balcony, but John remains behind.
He is feeling somewhat weak after
the exciting events of the afternoon.
And, as he sits there, smiling to hear
the clamor without -foo' he is human,
this young Chicago M.D•-some one.
touches his arm.
"Lady Ruth, I thought you went out.
with the rest," he stammers, with s
guilty blush, for it chances that at the
very moment he is thinking of her.
end what a soft, electric touch she has
so soothing, so very delightful.
"I did not go; I was watching you."
"An interesting study, surely."
"It was to me. I desired to know
•whether you secretly feared the results
of your wound."
"And I did not dream you were to
ocncerned about me. Oonsidering the
matter calmly, I am disposed to believe
there is now no danger -that the hot
iron radically destroyed the last chance
of infection."
'"I am eery glad to tear you say so."
"You care a little, then?"
lbw quickly she is on her guard,
"Because I would not see a brave
boy needlessly sacrificed."
"You look ou me as a boy. I
twenty-three."
"My own age, sir- That gives me
right to feel myself your settler,"
+"liow eel".
"You know a woman is older at twen-
ty-three than n man, Then you do not
r ear a beard."
el shall cultivate one from this hour•
Why, a year ago I looked a pard. but
was influenced to change."'
Again that quick flash of intelligence.
"Ala, Doctor Chicago has left a lady
love in the city an the lale."
"What makes you say that?"
"Severei remarks you have made;
the one just now, and then in reference
to the spur that sent you to face Clint
dog. AM! my friend. it must hems bee:z
a strong nv'iee to influence you like
that"
He ovcrlooes the peculiar patronizing
Dir, such as a young woman sometimes
weenies toward a boy her junior.
"Lady Ruth,the person you refer to,
the thought of whom sent nae to save
that child, bears what isto the the
.holiest name on earth.. --mother,"
She draws a quick breath.
"Forgive me, I was rude."
"Net at all. My words admitted of
just such a sue ,ming as you place
upon them."
"You left her in Chicago, of course;
John looks at her ste,edily,
"Lady Ruth, It may sound streuge
to you, after what 1 have said, but my
memories of nay mother are all eon ilt-
ed to the far past. to a period 'when I
was a mere child; but they are atone
the Tess precious ole that account,"
[TO 11l CONTr1,'tlsn.] ,4
ane
the
TWO h ria fel e+ iiniu'&,
The ball Is over, In a pretty boudoir,.
lighted only by a taper and the Haynes
that ilieker en the hearth, the belle of
the evening recall•t her triumphs,. She
has wheeled the ea e cher within the
oirolo of firelight. and C., fitful dleauas
reveal her, wraith -like in the white
ball dress that is seemly whiter thaw the
face above it,
An hour ago, one of a brilliant throne
her glancing feet .kept time. unwearied,
with the measures of the latest waltz.
An hour ago; Yet the cheek that is
pressed agadust the downy cushions has
lost its bloom; gone is the sparkle from.
her eyes, and the crimson roses on her
breast are drooping, dying.
Soo holds in, her Ir;uua a dowel casket.
and slowly, with half -reluctant admire.
tion, lifts front their satin hest a string
of glowing rubles: teeing ing them against
her bare white throat.
'"Fit for a princess," she murmurs;
"but what a price to pay! I am to tram-
ple my heart underfoot. forsooth, and all
that the world -my world -.most prizes.
is mine. To be admired, courted, the
observed ct observers, is as the very
breath of li„o Wine. Why do I hesitate?
With his nano, his millions, there are
no heights in the somal scale that I
would not dare. And yet -what did I
rend in the bold gaze that followed ine
everywhere to -night? Not .love Passion,
admiration, it may be --lova wears not
the guise of a serpent seeking its prey.
Ah 1 well: He wishes a bandsoino figure-
head for bis establishment. I long for
wealth and positon-a barter one sees
every day. So shall it be.”
The flames die out upon the hearth,
and amid the grey ashes a single ember
glows. The woman shivers, inurmuring:
"How cold it has grown 1 I .seem to see
phantom faces on every side -his face, as
I saw it yesterday. Ono moment his
eyes met mine as my carriage whirled
by, and oh, the reproaoh in that glance!
Enough of this. I will ring for my sleep
ing draught, and drink oblivion." Her
hand soaks the bell to rouse the sleeping
maid; she hesitates, then lifts to her lips
tbo flowers drooping ou her breast.
" 'Send back to me one little rose,' he
said, 'that I may know I can hope,' Ah,
Hobert, nay love, my own -once I
thought the world well lost, gazing into
your earnest eyes!
"It seems so long ago, that happy
summer.
"Da you remember, dear, as I do, that
quiet oountry lane where the wild roses
ran riot? And there was the lilac -scented
garden where our mornings were passed.
and the lake whero we gatherea water -
lilies, I was Marlon to you -never the
society butterfly. Though you wooed not
boldly, I well knew the words you
longed to speak; and often I pictured
another and a better life, when I should
place my hand in yours, and we should
go forth into the world together. But
that is past, why daily with fate? Sleep
is not for me thio night, until the words
that seal my destiny are penned."
Again her hand is on the bell; then,
turning, she slats herself at the escritoire.
The trim maid, who enters noiselessly
in answer to the summons, marvels much
at the carelessness of her mistress, as her
glance falls on a chain of rubies, trailing
its glittering length upon the hearth -rug.
And with the crimson roses resting above
her heart. the maiden writes.
The Princess of Wales' Doves.
One of the most frequented spots at
Sandringham is the dovehouse. Here in a
commodious cage are kept nearly a dozen
beautiful white due es, of which the
Princess of Wales is very fond. Whether
these pretty birds are preening their
feathers on their little tree or are nestl-
ing in the boxes provided for them, all
are ready to welcome their royal mistress
when she pays a visit, Some are special
pets and perch ala her shoulders or hover
around her for food in the prettiest way.
The glass -roofed house was originally in-
tended for monkeys, but these, not prow•
ing pleasant pets, were turned out and
doves were installed in their stead.
Hidden by a Lam), Post.
Before the police go off duty they have
to fall In line before the lieutenant to be
dismissed. On such an occasion a very
thin lieutenant was about to dismiss the
night force, when he paused to observe,
in a very loud and sarcastic voice('
"Brown, you're a smart sort of a man
for a policeman, I must say. I was on
Ford street last night when you passed,
though you did not see me." "Where
were you standing, sir?" risked the patrol-
man, respectfully. "Behind a lamp post."
"Then, sir," .said Brown, "that accounts
for it."
'With Pleasure.
McSwatters-1 always lou to' hear
that girl next floor ' play "The titer
Spangled Banner."
Mrs.-McSwattel•s-1 thought you said
you couldn't stand her piano playing?
McSwatters-Fire!!, when she plays
"The Star Spangled Banner," it's a sign
she's got through. -Syracuse Herald.
1u
SILO BUILDING .
Priv to Meant the Feame ewe Set Xts
a .Stave Sita.
In the course of a series of articles
on silos and ensilage in the Ohio Feltn-
er John Gould gives concise and clear
direetlons for building the now pabular
round silo. He says;
In setting up a stave silo it is neces-
sary to make a staging, so that it will
nearly conform to the cylindrical form
of the silo. To do. this it is best to set
four posts solid in the ground close to
the outside .of the silo and mount on
this a frame, as shown in Fie. 1 of the
first cut. This eau be readily .made of
16 feet boards, with the corner beards,
as shown.
¥ake the inside Measure of this
frame just as largo as the outside di-
ameter of the silo will be, so that it
FI1AME—WIRE 5ENeg MOPS.
Will touch the frame at eight points.
Start by tacking, a stave to the frame,
then add ataves, toe nailing then] on to
the other at top anti,bottom with one
nail at each end of the stave, and so on
round, The platform should he at least.
12, feet from the ground and staid Be
that it cannot twist or sway. The hoops
can then be put on, and as they are
tightened are pounded into place and
trued up so that the inside surface
shall be as {rue as possible.
For hoops some think the seven -eighth
of an inch rod with burrs at both ends,
using a 4 by 4 inch scantling long
enough for two hoop, makes the Best
tightener on a silo. Salve think the flat
hoop the best. The later idea is the 52
incl! wide. Fate lenge, four hands to a
silo, for hoops. as described above. The
method of drawing these bands together
is shown in Fig. 2, the wire being
snugly wrapped about two 4 by 4 inch
oak scantlings 56 inches long, so as to
come (when put about the silo) within
about ten inches of each other, and are
then brought together with two stout
bolts, with double burrs. Incidentally
these bands are placed about 17 inches
from each outer so as to have a man -
bole between each, as illustrated in
Fig. 1 of the seeoud cut. When the silo
is complete, a machine 1t; inches square
is marked ont, and cleats are nailed on
to hold the staves firmly together. The
"hole" is then towed out so as to have
a 1% inch bevel. as seen in dotted
line, and is put back into its place, and
makes a perfect airtight door, only
needing a little cut tain of tarred paper
placed over it on the inside when the
silo is filled.
Fig. 2 shows a round hooped silo set
up against the end of a barn, with a
sort of connecting link with the barn,
shown at A, which helps to hold it
solid, affords a partial protection and
fills up two corners. The balance of
the silo is not covered, the hoops being
,.d
MANHOLE—SILO SRT AGAINST A BARN
exposed. The question of silage becom-
ing frozenis not much more discussed,
as it is found that the freezing is only
slight in the most i itense zero weather,
and if soon fed out does not seem to be
injured to any noticeable extent. • The
carrier .to this silo !fills into the top at B.
when to Sow Buckwheat.
The old rule of delay the sowing of
buckwheat until the 4th of July . is
hardly a safe one to follow in northern
sta he where frost often nips this ten-
derest of all vegetables before its grain
is perfected. There as, of course, dan-
ger from too early sowing of this grain,
ext osing it to the severe heats which
sometimes prove as destructive ' as
frosts, blasting the blossoms so that
they do not set with grain. But if the
buckwheat cart be sown during the last
days of June there is little danger that
it will be blasted by the heat, and the
loss from untimelyfrosts, which is the
evil that is
a most to be feared, will be
avoided. This is the advice of The
American Cultivator.
A HOME IN DANGER.
How purifying and ennob-
ling "are the sacred influences
01' home, Thousands on thou-
sands of men have been saved.
from eternal ruin by the potent
affection of mother, sister,wife
or child„ whose self-denying
love has averted moral die-
aster, driven away despair,.
filled life with the sunshine of
hope, and wisely guided am-
bition into safe paths that led
to 1 sefulneess and sucQee$.
Onlya brute would turn in
unkindness or neglect against
those to whonn so much is due
and whose weakness arid de-
pendence add to the claims
that have been established by
their unselfishness and love.
Alas! that appetite should bt
allowed to melee brutes Qt`
men! The insidious drink
habit undermines every sons.
of moral obligation, and in-
duces weakness and irritation
that speedily develop into ha -
Wed and cruelty,. For the sake
or all who are near and dear
to him, every 111£iI1 6110111d bo
.
oontunufaliy on his guard, Wis-
dom will dictate total avoid-.
ante of perilous indulgence
and warn those who have felt
that they are already in danger
to seek every possible assist-
ance in their effort to overcome
the tendency that will grow
and conquer if it is not checked.
Thousands are born without
the taint of alcoholism inherit-
ed in the system, It is easy for
them to al)staiI. from intoxi-
cants and easy to preach tem-
perance to others. But the
moderate drinker, the occa-
sional drinker and the con-
firmed rouw,ier cannot be ex-
pected to respond to the excel-
lent sentunt-uts of those who
are constitutionally free from
the ;ieltaolrolie strain in their
blood. Nothing short of a con-
stitutiottial teeatment can effect
a change.
Satz'ioz'ial Prescription is the.
only true, scientific antidote to
alcohol, anti the only specifie.
which reaches the transmitted
alcoholic craving in the blood.
Some men, grown strong in
discretion, have felt free from
the inclination for intoxicants
until a spell of sickness, or a
season of worry, or some ac-
cidental circumstance has
started the latent desire for
liquor, and suddenly startled
his family and friends with his
inexplicable craving for strong
drink. The prompt, agreeable
and effective cure which Sa-
maria Prescription invariably
effects in these, as well as all
other cases of inebriety,proves
the correct theory of constitu-
tional or blood taint, which
Samaria Prescription is speci-
ally designed to expel and pre. ,
vent. And it does this while it
vitalizes the entire system with.
fresh vigor and strength. It
has never been known to t/1
in any ease to manifest Its
wondrous effects after the
second or third treatment and
to accomplish a lasting cure in
the most confirmed inebriate.
Mrs. A. O. S., Toronto, writes:
"I am very glad to reply to your letter
enquiring about my husband. He has
long aeo forgiven the deception which 1
practiced when I gave him the Samaria
tablets in every cup of tea, without his
knowledge, until he was cured. Our home
is all sunshine now, where it was constant
sorrow before I had your precious remedy,
and my husband is a model of honor and
kindness, such as he was in the early years.,/
of our marriage. If you will write to`'•�
Mrs. E. B—, Ossington avenue, you will,
receive another good account of the
miraculous merit of your wonderful treat-
ment. Since last towbar my husband
has been advanced to the position of
superintendent of the works where he was
previously employed as a machinist at the
bench, and everythinglooks radiant for
our future."
Parties wishing to send us
registered letters or express
orders, and not wanting to get
them in our name, should
write for our private address.
Full treatment Samaria Pre-
scription at druggists for $3.
If your druggist cannot supply
you write for it direct. It is
sent in a sealed packet, plainly
wrapped, to any address on
receipt of price, $3.
SAMARIA REMEDY CO.,
23 Jordan St., Toronto, Ont,