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HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Times, 1902-4-10, Page 3Ojel,01611111.44. 0.0.00ete0V0009111100.000if 000‘400400604)000.000001110 iThe'Fatal Dower! 0 0 0 —OR es THE DESTRUCTION OF A PROUD SPIRIT es aedeoece0000900000150eoco•oevese.060000•000•0000 SYNOP...41$ OF ' PRECEDING CHAPTERS -Margaret Howard, on the eve of departure to join het Se eretly married husbeed, leeves eer child with Susan Rivers and is deowned at sea.' Susan rears the Daisy, as her own, and dies, 'Her daughter, Margeret, alone knows Daisy'S secret. Lord Lisle seeks his child, fined Margiiii0, taking Daisy'e birthright, announces herself his tialighter. She, falls in love with his mepb,evr, Philip. Daisy, Lord Lisle'S %rue daughter, joiee her foster -sis- ter, .GRAPTER XV. The sigeit that greeted Rita on her return froni the ball was not a pleas- ant one. Philip at between Daisy and Lead Lisle ; they all three look- ed very happy, and were laughing heartil3r at some of. Lord Carew's adventures. She weighed eveey word of Philip's geeetin'g to herself ; it was kind,. even affectionate, but there was not that which she Ranged to hear. el do Mat find Lord Lisle lookieg very Well," said Philip to his cousin on the day following his arrival. e. "He seems weak and ill. Have you - noticed any change iii him ?" "No," she replied'; 'tperhaps the climate does not suit, him." Philip shook Ms heed gravely "I fear .it is something more se- rious than that," he said. "I cam - not forget some words 1 overheard him say to your foster -sister last evening. 1 de not like:the wore ex- pression of his fete. The troubles of his early life made him old before his time." "He is happy new," she said. "Yes, he is happy," said Philip. "The one aim of his life is accom- plished ; he has found the child whose loss nearly killed him. Per- haps this mey be the reaction after too great a mental strain." But Lord Lisle did not recover. either health or strength, and Rita was the 'first to 'propose their re- turn home. The suggestion was soon acted upon, and by easy stages they were all once more happily gathered with- in the cheerful room of Lisle Court. The ailing master was pleased to be once more at home -pleased to see his 'nether's gentle face ; but it was evident to all who knew and loved him that Lord Lisle had not long to live. The knowledge of this brought a keen, sharp pang to Daisy's heart ; to Rita it gave a seese of relief that she could hardly define. • _ - For limey long weeks after their return they watched him fade slowly and surely. There came to him no viorenoe or pate ; life and strength ebbed gently away. The most learn- ed physicians in England stood by his bedside and did battle with grim Xing Death. But he was not to be baffled ; he had marked his prey. During those long, sad ,autumn weeks two events happened, Philip Lisle fell deeply in love with Daisy ;„ and Rita found that without him life and all it held was empty and dreary. ,ITas nature no voice, ,no keen, un- erring instinct ? What was it drew Daisy, hour after hour, to teat sick- bed ?, Lord Lisle took all his medi- cine and all his food from her, Rita looking on with ealm indifference. She was his acknowledged daughter and heiress. All matters of love and sentiment were.of no consideration. Daisy stole gently into his room and watched while he slept. Daisy sought the rarest fruit, prepared the richest cordials. As his strength de- clined, and the long night hours, brought but little 'rest, she sung, in that low, Clear voice, the songs he loved and Mashed hiiu to rest. When death came very near it was Daisy who knelt by his side and said the prayers her :mother taught her ; it was she who read sweet, solemn winds, full of rest, peace and hope. And then, in her heart, Lord Lisle's mother would wish this fair, gentle girl were her son's child, in- stead of the proud, hearty beauty who looked on so calmly as he suf- fered. Death was drawing nearer. Ono night Daisy, watching by Lord Lisle's side, read to him until his eyes closed and he fell asleep. She dreaded awakening him. The gray autamiti evening closed in ; the fire- light danced fitfully hi strange shadows on the walls ; the lamp Stood upon a table near, but she would , not move lest • the ,soiind should wake the sick man. He slept calmly for a shore time, then a moaning cry came from his lips. She bent over, whispering scene gentle words, laying her hands upon • the damp brow.. She was startled to find his eyes wide epee and fixed upon her face. . • ``Margeret," - he said, "are yeti cometo ms. at last ? My darling wife, I have pined and died for you/' eYou are dreruning," said DaisY, gently. "Do you not know inc ? T ant Daisy Eivers." A. gleam of:recognition at once eame into his eyes. . ' "Who Was it whispered to inc ?" he asked. "It was not you ;it was Margaret -my wile. 1 knew her :voice. It Was just the ,sarcie tone in which she bade inc fareiveIl. Daley, you did not see her, but she ham been tear me," • . ' Nee 001.110 She SeuViiiee him to 0:0 ' tOntrnry, 'Believing f o be the cke, lesion of 0. dying man, She did net contradict him, "She bas been near Me," he said, "end Z heard her e.oice, 33e1ore ,the stni Seta toemieroiv I shell have joined. her. Daise, eidl my Meteor; and tell Philip I want to see him tow -at anee 1" • liaise was s.larnted. at, the gray pallor that fell over els face. In a few minutes Mrs, Wyverne was by his side, and Philip sooe joined her, " "Mother," he paid, "my wife has been to Memnon me, Do not leave Me again. I 'Want to see. Philip OR° alone. Coree back, after that and bring Rita. with 'yeti." They were left together -the pre- maturely old man, :whose life was rapidly closing, and hie :young heir, whose future lay all before him. Philip knelt by his uncle's' side. The bright, dying eyes were fixed intently upon his face, eaid Lord, Lisle, "you aela ray heir, and 1 have loved you dearly, asthough you had been My own son. You care much for ine, I believe." Living, "I bave been kind and indulgent to you ; dying, 1 ask you a favor. Grant it, and my blessing will follow you through iiiittlep.pyl,rse it, and I shafl die en- emy. dear uncle," cried Philip., "I would do anything for you." "Remember your words," he con- tinued, With a faint smile. "1 shall put them to. the proof. I ask you to do what some men would be proud, beyond all words, to do. Philip, when 1 am dead and buried, - when the time for aneerning is past aricl gone, will you promise me to marry nay darling Rita, ?" the Imbed silence of that remit the words fell clear and distinct ; they smote Philip Lisle like the blow of a sharp sword. How coeld he marry Rita when he loved Daisy with all his heart ? "She is very beautiful," con- tinued Lord Lisle,'wistfully, "and very clever. She will be my heiress. What more can you want, Philip ?" What more ? The words sounded like bitter sarcasm, Trying to re- cover himself, Philip said : "Tut, ray dear uncle, it is quite possible, you 'mow; that Rita may not be willing: She may care for Soine one else." "Ale no !" said Lord Lisle. "Bend lower, Philip ; let me whisper some- thing to you. People see things more clearly when they come to die, Philip, my daughter loves you. I know it. One day I found it out. See wept bitterly when you seemed indifferent to her. In her passion of grief, she cried out that she loved you better than her life." "Ts it possible ?" cried Philip. Lisle, in astonishment. "It is true," replied Lord Lisle. "I tell you her secret. You, are a Lisle and a gentleman ; it is safe with you. I know. how those of my race love, how fatally and how well. Lying here on iny death bed, my daughter's secret troubles me. She has not heen very happy, poor child ! Oh, Philip, :make it up to her I Promise to love and care for her. Promise to make bee your dear honored wife !" But Philip had no words. With 'Leese pleading, dying eyes fixed so wistfully upon. him, he could sooner have plunged a sword in his own heart than have said "No." Still, he did not love her and never could. "For her dead mother's sake !" pleaded the faint voice. "Let me be able to say, when I meet her, that our child is happy." , Still no answer came :from Philip. There was a fierce struggle in his heart, a mighty tumult that bereft him of all Words. Suddenly, upon his hands, he felt warm. tears fall; and the pale lips quivered like the lips of a grieving child. •a "My only child, Philip !" said LordLisle, "ley only One !" Old - and sorrowful, weeping and dying, Philip could not withstand it. Had Lord Lisle asked for his life then, he would have given it more cheerfully by far than he gave the promise that wrecked the happiness of his life. "Hush, any dear uncle," he said ; "it shall be as you, wish. 1 promise to make Rita my wife."; A look of relief and pleasure pass-, ed overthe dying face. "God bless you, my dear boy 1" he tsaid. "I shall die happy now 1 leave my darling in good hands. You will be kind to Daisy," be con- tinued ; "let her live here with my mother entil she raerries.". will be kind to Daisy," said Philip, hoarsely. He had not the coueage to refuse his uncle's last wishes ; he could not turn a deaf .ear to the faint, pleading voice, yet the giving of that promise made hine so wretched he Would gladly have changed places with the man whose last hour had come. .At .1.1Ord Lisle's wish he sieumened Rita end Mrs. Wyverne. "Rita," said Lord Lisie, "let me speak to you while 1 emee strength. Philip will tell you all we have ar- ranged. You are to be his wife, my darling." Philip never forgot the startled joy and bappiness that came into her face ; it' was a new revelation to him. "Take her in your arms, Philip," said LordLisle ; "teil her yeti Win fill my. plece." Philip bent csver hiS ' cousin ; her beautiful face, softened and fell of tenderness as he had Dever seen it :before, was raised to his ; he. touch- ed her brow With his lips:. ' will take care of you, Rita," he Said gently,. - Wee no a very entheSiastic WoOing there Wee ne reptere 61.1 Philip's 'face as he looked upon tee girl be had promised to make his Wife. • Two hours afterward, Whee the greet change tame wad Mrs, verea Semi/weed Rita, she shrunk trait the sight of detail, She Went back to her room, and knelt with her fitce ,buried un lier handse Lord Lisle died with hie head 01 - /Owed on Daisy's aria. ; els eyes, unte the last lingered en her face, He was 40111;160 in that hour, And thought she Was Margaret, Ma lost Wife, cerae to fetch. eine • A Week of gloom . aad serro* ; the greet eouse Was lambed and still ; the sunshine wits not allayed to eisit it ; people spoke in low, hushed whispers ."fer he who had been the loved and honored, mas- ter lay deed:there, The day of the funeral came at last -a day of pouring rain.. Tee long black preeession wound 'ite tv4),Y throueh the dripping trees .; evee nature seemed to weep as Lord Lisle was laid down to rest. After the funeral was over the will Was reed in the libeary, rill° three ladies were summoned. ; Mr. Kent, the lawyer, and a, few friends of the family, Were there. It was a jest and equitable will, leaving, as a matter of course, to Philip the en- tailed estate of Lisle Court and the income derived from ,it. To his dearly loved child, Margaret Lisle, was bequeated the three estates Of Helsmeir, Endsleigh, and Thome. To his mother the late hard left a handsome income, and the same to Daisy, The annuity paid to Mee. Fermi and Mrs. Markham was to be continued. All old servants and de- pendents were remembered. As she listened to the lawyer's monotonous tones, Bite set like one in a dream. The end and aim of her life was accomplished. Her fraud had succeeded ; • there could. be no more danger -no more fear of dis- covery. • There was much to arrange. At: Lord Lisle's urgent request Mrs. Wyverne consented to remain for some einie at least, at Lisle .Court. Rita and Deisy, were to remain With her: Philip himself had had business. in Scotland, and when all plans were settled to everybody's satisfaction he went there: After the year of mourning had passed it *as Mrs. Wyverneis inten- tion to take the two young girls to London for -the season lt, was high time that ita made her debut ; she was to be presented at the birthday drawing -room, and the elder lady predicted • for her grandchild a se- ries of brilliant triumphs, When the time came, Daisy, naneh to Mrs. Wyverne's surprise, steadily' refused to make any grand debut in the gay world. "I will go to London with you, dear madame," she said. "The truth is, I could not bear to be parted from you ; but I think it would be absurd for me to attempt to share -the honors mid privileges that are Rita.s by right of. birth. It is only through Lord Lisle's bounty that I am even what I am. I have no claim to more. I do not forget that I am of lowly birth and station," . Rite, who heard her sister's rea- sons, said no word. In her heart she was pleased to be saved from the continual presence of one whom she felt would be a formidable rival, (To Be Continued.) A NICE SORT OF GIRL. Paris boasts some of the most au- dacious thieves in the world, but a robbery jest carried out at Vincen- nes, near Paris, was really a master- piece. A handsome, well-dressed young women knocked at the door of a villa, and begged protection front the master against three evil - looking men whom she declared were following her. The gentleman readily complied, and escorted the lady al- most to the house where she said she lived. What, was his, surprise on re- turning home to find his house had been entered and thoroughly . ran- sacked durine his absence. It is ful- ly believed 'by the police that the woman was acting in concert with the men, as no one answering to her description lived at the address giv- en. THE • DO ()TOR'S CONS MENGE. -A famous Leedom physiciaai had a Large practice, and it was his pride and boast that he could feel a pa- tient's pule, sound hen with a ste- thoscope, write a prescription, and pocket cafe() 121 a space of time vary- ing froni three to five minutes. One day a man was shown into the consulting room and was rapidly. ex- amined. At the conclusion he shook hands with the doctor and said: - "I am especiaily glad to meet you as I have often heard ray father. Colonel—, speak of his old frieed, 1.1•11.441.44111111% To prove to you that Dr. Chase's Ointment is a certain and absolute cure for each and every form of itching, blecdingand protruding piles, the manufacturers have guaranteed it. See toe. timonials in the daily press and ask your neigh. bora vrhat they think of it, You can use it and get your money back if not eared, 6000 box, at all dealers er DAIAN$ON,BATES & Co., Toronto, Dr. Chase's Ointment JAPANESE SIGNS. Nearly every shop in Japan for the sale of foreign goods is furnished with a sign in a foreign language, No matter whether the language is intelligible, if it is oular in foreign characters that is enough. Many of these signs are a studya. "The all countries Boot and Shoe Small or Fine Wares"; "Old Curios"; "Horee shoe maker instruct by French horse leech"; "Cut :Hair Shop"; "If you want sell Watcle I will buy; if you want buy watch 1 will sell. Yes, sir, we will, all will. Come at My shop. Watchmaker"; "Hatter Na- tive Country"; "Antematic of Nau- sea Marina"; "The Muse Build for the manufacture of all end best kinds of Hats and Ceps." NEW ROYAL 130DV:1-DART). The Government are considering the desirability of es tablishi ng Royal bodyguard of native Indian Cavalry, to be quartered in London. If an affirmative decision shoeld be eonie to Sir Perteb Singh, of Jodh- pur, who has been appointed aide-de- camp to the King, will be command- er, Sir Pertab is well icemen in London society, where be has become an established favorite. , FOR FARMERS ---. , Seasonable and Profitable ? ret hints for the Busy Tillers 1E of the $04. • 404100*••:14i•siK-9*•********9*foik. TitereMl'ITsS 11°0Ni:ref Vw401"3'.11:4on the farm that will give a meee steady end satisfactory Meanie than tee work of the industrious hen provided she is looked after as she should be, writes Mr. Jas. Green, You ask a termer if his hens pay and he will tell' you he does not knew. I don't think, there is Om farmer in fifty who can. tell Yoe just how many eggs his hens lay in a year, or hew much money they have sold for. Of late there has ogee out an albumen craze and a great many have thought that albumen would Make eggs, but to their sorrow in some eases there are more dead hens than eggs The first reason hens are not pay- ing is a lack :tif knowledge as to how handle them for profit. Rais- ing and caring for poultry has to be learned, :like anything else. Success is not attained off -hand, any more than it ia in any other line of Work, Nearly everyone: thinks he can raise chickens, but he is inistakee. It re- quires study.: The next reason for nou-succeSs is in the feeding. Almost everything on the farm has more care in feeding than the hen; old biddie must look out for herself. In summer she can do better :than in winter. To have a Profitable 'biddie, to lay 150 eggs a year, she must have the BEST OF 'FOOD AND. CARE. To make the hen lay she must be fed the food proper' to make eggs. In the weet. the Poultrymen are keeping the hens that will lay 200 eggs each a year. 11 we in this country have our hens lay a. 1.00 eggs we do well. I believe that there were more hens that laid tatder 100 than over last year. How shall we keep her busy in the cold days, when she cannot run: out? 'Some will have 'a cabbage hung up in the house about three feet- from the Beer and every hen that wants it bite must jump up and get 'it; that is better than nothing. I think that to make a hen thrash her own grain ie a better way. The way I keep my hens bilsy is to give a light breakfast, then scatter wheat or any kind of grain all over the the floor, where there is straw for them to work in to find the grain. I only feed twice a day. In the af- terneon I give them barley and peas in the straw, , and ehey work it out themselves. --The hen mist have plenty of char- coal, oyster shells, cracked bone, broken glass, clover hay and plenty of good watee. The first thing in the, morningthe hen wants is it good drink of water,if she ean get it: Some do not give it till noon. Give her .a balanced ration of equal parts of wheat, bran, ground oats, cornmeal, middlings, peameal and beef meal or scraps. Feed warm, then your hens will SUPPLY ALL 'YOUR NEEDS. A :third reason why the liens do not pay is the lack of care. care 'and attention go a long way toward success in the poultry yard. We must see that everything is all right, the buildings warm and comfortable, the birds not too crowded. the sleep-. big rooms free from vermin, a dust bath of dry earth for winter use, some limo and all kinds of grit and good food properly balanced and all hens will then convince the mos sceptical farmer that they do pay. The 250 hens at Maple Groye Poul- try Farm last year laid 32,500 eggs, about 1.30 eggs each, or 2,708 doz- en; and they sold for 21 cents a dozen, which. was $568.68, or :P.m per hen in eggs alone. The year's account stands: - Sold eggs-- ... 85 chicks... 102 hens... ... Value fertilizer - Total.. • a • $568 68 17 65 88 17 . 62 50 687 00 Cost of feed... ... ...... 25 23 Profit $481 77- 1 have raised 100 pullets and pat in -the place of the 102 hens I sold, and we have had all we wanted for the table besides. POINTS OF BREEDING. In breeding for healthy animals on- ly healthy or vigorous females should be used and they should be used in the prime of life -not too young nor too old, says II. E. Richter. It is equally important that the male should be perfectly healthy and sound and free from all constitu- tional and hereditary disease or im- perfections. • The excessive use of the ;nate for breeding purposes, either by placing him with too many females or em- ploying' him too often, is to be care- fully avoided. This. will not only weaken the organs and destroy more The Con Qe less 'vitality, but setiovely pair tee geteral: nervous system. As it rule the dairyman must. rely "Weil the eouneon eteek Of the eountry Ori the one handtied the thoreughlareci bull on the other for the bitee of his operatiene. It is useless to talk about the ep. clusire introduction of pure 'thor- oughbreds to Meet the present wants: 01 dairymen. Tee iteimels ivisele be altogether too expensive, even if it wokepossible to find them. Again, it may: be 'doubted. whether any a,a, vantage *would lei gained in the mere :production. of Milk .ever crossing :Of common stock with thoroughbreds. The .grade animal as a milker may prove equal to or even better than the thoroegebred. The only 'course for the most of dairymen, is to start with a good fiord Of native ewe having geed dairy types, use e thor- oughbred bull and .breed up: to the qualities desired. HOLDING UP THE A fresh cow that holds up her milk nearly always provokes thereby an attack of garget and future lees of milk all through the season, so that the dairyman or owner of a family cow should be on the Watch to avert the trouble. When the calf is habitually taken from the 'cow be- fore it hap had tine to ,suck, the cow will come.,to her milk naturally and without resistance end this practice Cannot be too strongly re- einemeaded as a constant rule itt the dairy. When, however, the trouble bus occurred and it remedy is sought, we find how powerless we are to strive with tho natural instincts of an animal excited to stubbore. re- sistance: Soothing measures. and perseyeeence or the use of the milk- ing tubes- is the only effective rem- edy. Tim SHORTHORN. "Tha butter fat test alone is not sufficient," says it well-known dairy- man, "in arriving itt the value .of cow. .A. .cow that tests only 3 'mi- celle., and yields, you forty pounds of milk will give as much as it thirty pound' cow testing four per cent. And. the one with the greeter milk flow gives you so much more skini milk for your caves. - In our section we favor the Shorthorn with a milking strain. We have cows of this type that wilt give us $30 in !eatery but- ter alone, and 6,000 or 7.000 lbs, _of skim milk for our stock. These cows, besides all this,. will give us calves that as yearn*. stockers., will sell for $18, $15, and '$20 each. And the cost of raising these calves, aside from the milk used, will not exceed •••••••••••,1••••••••••••••=•, CHILD'S FR,ENCII DRESS. 4 to 10 Years. The lone -waisted dress known as the Freud model, suits little girls to it nicety, and is in the height of present styles. The very pretty ex- ainple shown - is made of nainsook with- yoke and trimming of fine needlework end is worn with a rib- bon sash; but all washable ivaterials are equally appropriate, while cash- mere, henrietta, albatross and Men- ple silks are all in vogue for heavier frocks. • The waist is made over a fitted' lining onto which the yoke is :faced, but whiCh can be gut away to Yoke depthwhen a transparent effect is desired. The full portion is gather- ed itt both upper .and lower edges, but the • waist and lining close to- gether at the centre back. The sleeves are in bishop style with pointed culls, and over the shoulders; finishing the edge of the yoke, is a Waited bertha- that suits childish figures admirably well. At the neck is a standing collar. The skirt is circular and flares freely and grace- fully at the /ewer portion while the upper edge is joined to the skirt, the seam lacing concealed by the sash. To cut this dress for a child of 8 years of age, yards of material 21 inches wide, 5 yards 27 inches wide, 41 yards 32 inches wide, or 8e yards 44 inches wide will be requir- ed, with e yards of all-over lace em- broidery, 8 of edging and 2e,. yards ol insertioa to trim as illustrated. . t Submarine divers find great diffi- culty in reaching a depth of over 130 feet. 200 feet has never yet been ,achieved. uctor's ,TWO GREAT CITIE% Sydney Willcity013co1eAune sttrateargest . 4 Melbourne has always been the largest city of Australia. In its Phenomenal growth it can be com- Pared only with Chieago and Seri ;Francisco, In 1885 it bad a name and fourteen inhaletariti; in 1896 it eontained 451,000 persons. Gold reede Melbourne, For ten consecu- tive years the gold mines from. sixty to one hundred miles to the north and northwest produced over $50,- 000,000 Of gold every year. Tee Many thoueancle of men required to mine this treasure bought their sup- plies in Melbourne en4 spent tbeir Money there, Tee city faced to the north where the mines were; its haeli door was on the sea. But the gold mines of Victoria hew lost their old importance. ',Meer are still productive, but their yield is far inferior to that of the desert mines of Western. Australia,. Mel- bourne is slowly losing the largest resource that made her great and the wool and wheat trade is not like- ly to fully compensate her 101' the de- clining mining interests. The city was said in 1891. to have 490,896 population, including the suhurbs. Five years later only 451,000 per- sons were counted in the city and its environs. The decline in population is pro- bably only temporary, for 'Victoria is it very eich little state. Many Miners have been drawn away by More flattering prospects elsewhere, but they will gradually be replaced by permanent settler. The groat city, however, seems des- tiiesc.1 soon to lose its preeraineuce. Sydney is steadily increasing in. pop - elation; by the laseecensus it was only 42,000 under Melbourne's lig- ue SYDNEY IS GROWING while Melbourne is scarcely holding her own. There are a, men- ber of reasons ivby Sydney will pro- bably forge ahead. and permanently maintain its lead among Australian cities. One reasout. is because Sydney is on the east 'coast. where the lergest pop- ulation and the greatest development of industries are found. Vessels in the foreign trade eteinot visit all the lively little ports along this coast and so Sydr ey is it forwarding and receiving port for -the trade of that entire coast.. Melbourne's commerce, on th.e other hand, is largely con- fined. to the little state of Victoria. It is not a ereat distributorY and in. this respee'st Sydney bas the ad- vantage. Thee., again, Sydney faces the Pa- cific wan with its myriad islands, whose inhabitants • for 2,000 miles emery on more or less trade with the capita/. -of Now South • WeleS;.'' but Melbourne faces the Southern •Iii- dian Ocean, which. is destitute of is- lands, and therefore the capital of Vic,,eoria has 310 island trade. Another' factor to the aeleantage of Sydney is that the immense coal fields of Australia are at her •very doors and. feel is thus very easily and cheaply obtained to feed her growing industries. Coal must be carried a longer distance to Mel- bourne an„d thus her industries are placed at a slight disadvantage. These are the most important reae s'ons why Sydney has at last become the terminal point of all the steam- ship lines in the Australian foreign trade and why it is likely to take its place at the head of Australian cit- ies. TEPID BATHS FOR DIG NECK'S. The increase of stature among the Japanese is very perceptible, and the substitution of tepid and even cold water for the hot baths among many of the people is responsible for an in- creasing' 'floridity of the complexion. Before the advent of military dis- cipline on European models the jap- anese were notable as the smallest - necked race in the world, a. iirm of London collar -makers with a large trade in Japan asserting that thir- teen:inches tees the normal circum- ference of aa full-grown Japenese neck.. Itt alittle over tweuty years, owing to a na.ore athletic develop- ment, the .aeerage has risen an inch and a half: To athletic development should also be added greater avoir- dupois, inasmuch as a more generous diet and abstention from parboiling is bringing its reward in an accumu- lation of muscle and tissue. SHOFJNG A VICIOUS HORSE.. Th.ere is considerable risk Meer - red in shoeing vicious horses, both to the blacksmith and to the horse itself. To remove this risk alto - utiles an Australian has invented .a sett of wooden cage, the sides and top • of Which are padded. The horse is led in, the door is fastened. and the cage is then tented .completely upside down, the animal resting en its back with its feet up. Confirms His Cure of Two Years Ago, and Proves that it was Permanent —Warm Words of Praise for pr. Chase's Kidney -Liver Pills. Many readers of this paper'and espeeially railroaders, will remember the cure of C. P. R. Cbriductor Berr' Yman of St. Stephen, N, 33. l'n a letter received last week the conductor states that he is real well, and that his cure, after ten years of suffering with kidney disease, is permanent, not having had a touch of his old trouble for two years. - Mr. Berryman's case was such a severe one, end his cure so remarkable, that many write to ask him about it. He never tires of recommending Dr, Chase's 'ICidney-Liver Pills, but, on the contraier, is glad of an Opportunity to tell fellow -sufferers hew he was cured, In his letter of April 14, 1900 in Which his case is described, Conductor 13erryman, wrote: - "I baste been railroading for 23 years, and for ten years suffered from a severe case of kidney disease and backache, a tremble common to railroad men, It used me all tip to walk, end efter walking up hill I would hey° to he down to get relief, ray back WaS So bad, I could not sleep more than half the night, And then didn't seeiri to get any rest. . "1 had used al' sorts of medicines and Was pretty badly discouraged when I heard of Dr, Chase's Xid- eey-Liver Pills. After using two hoxes of this treatment I found it was helping me, end five boxes have made a. ceeeplete cure. I now rest and sleep well,, my back is strong, and the old trcatelo has 'entirele disap- peared, Many people to whom I have recommended these pills have been eurett Iteyette Wishing further par- ticulars write 1110." There is 00 doubting the efficiency o Dr. ChaSee ICidney-Liter Pills es a thormigh cure for lattekacbekidney dische, and liver complaint. They have it direct aetion on the kidneys,. liver and howelts, Whieli i4 boiled te etrimigthee, invigorate, and regulate these organs t One pill it dose, 25 cents a box. At all dealers, Or dalang n. Bates and Coq, Toronto, asas..1 eat: THY LIVE A SECOlill LIFE STRANGE RESITRItECTIONS 01?, Remarkable Stories of Mee. Who Dropped Completely Out ef Sight. There are few life drienee More ia- teresting and remarkable than those of men who, having made a, com- plete failure of life, become dead to the world, and in a, different, en- viroeinent "rise on the stepping- stones of their dead selves" to a. better and regenerated life. In the early eighties ther 0 1,mq no more dissipated and hopeless young man in the North of England than,, G. M.—, the son of it wealthy Lan- cashire manufeeturer. II° had been sent down from Oxford, and ou his return home brought such disgrace on his family by his low associations and drunken habits that one night his father turned ben out of the house and torbecle him over to re- turn- A few days later the unfor- tunate young man's hat and neat, with a letter of farewell, were found an the beach near Blackpool, and it was concluded that his life's tragedy was closed, says London Tit -Bits. Nearly twenty years later the fath- er received an urgent summon.s. a.s it proved, to the death -bed of the son whose tragic end he had mourn- ed a score of years before. It ap- peared that after the youth had out himself finally adrift from his old life by leading the world to imagine that he was drowned, he drifted to Lee - don, intendieg to lose his identify there =wig its Millions of eumeat atoms. Here he came under the in- fluence of a good Man, to Whom he told his story, and who induced him to start life anew on different and better lines. After it few months' training he be- came a lay -reader and missionary, and the balance of his life was given to good work in the most squalid slums of East London, where he won the affection and RESPECT OF ALL. But the life of hardship and self-de- nial' developed the seeds of eonsuinp- tion in him, which perhaps his early dissipation had sown, and he died happy in his father's arms. This is, perhaps, as strange a story as was ever woven into fiction, and yet the literal truth of it is known to hun- dreds. An even more remarkable example of a reformed life was that of John C—, it young Cornishman, wheel!' life closed to the world in the tax13r summer of 1867. The son of well-to- do and respected parents, he fell early into evil habits and the com- panionship of low associates Even his Mother's 'death, Ter which hie disgraceful conduct was largely* re- sponsible, failed to change his life; and the climax • came when, ill a drunken brawl, he struck one of his associates a blow which at the thee appeared fatal. In a sudden im- pulse of remorse he rushed down to the beach, and, unseen by any, plunged into the sea with the object oifswiraming until he was exhausted and the waters should close over lim. This, as far a§ the world knew, was the end of his wasted life; and, indeed, his very memory was almost forgotten, when two .years ago news tame to the Cornish village that the long -lost brother had recently died. in Melbourne, and had left a fortune of $150,000 to be equally divided among his brothers and sisters. The would-be suicide had been picked up a mile out at sea, in a half-conscious condition, by a passing vessel, and had been taken to Melbourne. Here with the terrible lesson of HIS WRECKED LIFR behind him, he begaui the -task of re- formation, and succeeded so well. that when he died as John M— he was one of the most flourishing and respected business men in the city. In the year 1874 Henry Mansell, the manager of a bank in the Eng- . s lish Midlands, disappeaxed, and after his flight it was found that the bank's books had been Seriously , tampered with and that a large sum of money was inissing.. The de- faulting manager was tracedby- de- tectives to London, where it. VMS Lound that a. man bearingthe same name had taken a passage ori 11. ship , bound for Lisbon, a probable 'de,stin- ation for a. man flying from justice. ,But Henry Mansell never saw Lis-* bon; for the vessel foundered in it terrible storm in the bay, and only two of the crew survived to tell the tale. Many years elapsed, and the crime and consequent tragedy were almost forgotten, when the batik au- thorities received a, draft from the absconding Manager for the full sum emlibezied, with ieterest, and a letter expressing profound penitence for his crime and regret that he had not been able to make reparation earlier, 13y a remarkable coincidencee two men had sailed from England on the some day, one to perish at sea. while the other voyaged to South Africa. Here Henry 'Mansell drifted to the goldfields, where he amassed it for- tune,' the first fruits of which went to replace the money he had stolen. WANTED A REDUCTION. An old colored man meandered in- to the dental parlor, accompanied by his daughter, who was suffering from an aching molar. ."Matvnin', 'boss," began the old inan "Alt done fetched dis hyar gal foh ter liab er tooth yanked out, SttA'11 eight uncle," said the den- tist. "Shall. X give her gas to dead- en the pain?" "Whet am dat gas swine ter cost, sale?" queried the venerable 'African. "Fifty cents wielded the tooth car,. venter, "Looker hyar, beset eat am a heap ob money to pay out reckless," said the old felloiv. "ICain't yo' ell gib her er.leetlo gaserline Soh er quartah? WONDERFUL! ‘‘A very Idad-hearted tvoinan'' 'thi'lerer lgfr.400 say hci lilm.twatemei rsk ied 'V?