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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Huron Expositor, 1925-10-23, Page 71111414 i; r'r • ni it CARIE; VAN. S' �}q fpr yyry�ag q�gp'p'{y� (� 9g GROSSE.�. .s.-I)Ulbi ,P. New York. Couti*d. #0,41'140 **04 Tremaine . finJ 4 'd easily with as much calm as thqugh e tele not to dine alone with his mother. Qn- the bureau lay 'a great bunch of violets: }1e •had ben raising the* success- fully under glees,. 'and Marn;zn'y had just fetched to 'him with p,de this great bunch from the-grceithonse. ire ,fastened a few in the lapel of his Cost. - As. they sat together after dinner, his mother and himself, the dooreop- ened softly, and a small boy. in: night cibthes• stood, there, red-eheeeked, his eyes were bright but heavy with sleep. 7ie!made a leap for John'and.landed in, his uncle's Jap. "Listen, Uncle John! Come up and sit on -our bed in the dark. Please do!" "Go upstairs directly," said his - grandmother severely: "You will catch cold." - Roger's flushed .ebeek was close to his uncles; the firelight gleamed in his eyes. "Hark!" said\ Mrs. Tremain. 4iI hear *Fleets on the driveway." "No, Granny, it's the wind," said the. child; "I hear it all night long." "Your atf�ries are too exciting for them, John. ne', grandmother! They're bully!" "Pel take shim upstairs," said- John indulgently. "Nonsense! You will do nothing of the kind. Let him go alone." Roger slipped down, ran over to -the door, and said, from under his shock of hair: "Davey thinks mother is the prettiest, but I think Miss Iso- bel's the prettiest, Uncle John. Are you going to marry her?" - He ran out, beckoning to John from the hall and from the stairs. When he had gone, his -grandmother said in a low tone: "You heard what little Roger said?" John's heart was hard as a stone within him. "You may spare yourself the trou- ble of speaking to me on that sub- ject, mother." But she replied with spirit: "I love Isobel as my own child." Mrs. Tremaine leaned forward. "You may ruin her life," she said. "It has gone too far. She is unhappy. I believe she loves you." "Nonsense!" said Tremaine, and added: "If she does, she will get! over it. Others have." "Oh." said his mother, "you are cruel!" "I think," said Tremaine, edlidly watching her. "that if she knew, it would disenchant her. I can't im- agine Isobel Malvern loving a thief." Raising his eyes, he looked at his mother sharply. "Will you tell her?" "I tell the disgrace of my son!" "If it would solve the problem?" "Never!" "I am glad," he said simply. "We a.m. p.m. might depute Julia to tell her, when 6.00 2.20 she arrives." 6.17 2.87 "You insult herr." Mrs. Tremaine, 6.25 2.52 who had risen, moved to and fro 6.41 8.12 slowly, her cheeks burning, her whole 6.49 3.20 soul in agitation. 6.54 3.28 John said, still watching: "There is Sam Leavitt." p.m. p.m. Mrs. Tremaine said: "How dare 5.38 9.37 you, John!" 5.44 .... "He has never refused to stand by 5.53 9.50 the family yet." 6.08 10.04 "Do you call that standing by the 7.03 10.13 family?" asked his mother. 7.20 10.30 EVERY POP •a as mud* lle keePOildieh Wil, bienh tnreee, appetits kaci digeition.• -Fresh and ihil1.g vsred. always in ` to waxPPd ' Package. TH E FLAVOR LASTS LONDON AND WINGHAM Nort1i. a.m. 10.16 10.30 10.35 10.44 10.58 11.05 11.15 11,21 11.35 11.44 11.56 12.08 12.08 12.12 Exeter Bensall ,. • Klippen BrUcefleld Clinton Jct. Clinton, Ar. Clutton, Lv. Clinton Jet. Londesborough BI,h • Be grave Wingham Jct., Ar Wingham Jct., Lv Wingham Wingham Wipgham Jct Be.Igrave Bih Londesborough .... Clinton Jct. Clinton Clinton Jct. .. Brucefield 1 ippen Hensall Exeter South. RAIL 6.55 7.01 7.15 7.27 135 7.49 7.56 8.03 8.15 8.22 8.32 8.47 C. N. R. TIME TABLE East. Goderich Holmesville Clinton Seaforth St. Columban Dublin West. S.M. Dublin 10.37 St. Columban10.42 Seaforth 10.53 Clinton 11.10 Holmesville 11.20 Goderich 11.40 C. P. 6.04 6.18 6.23 6.32 6.46 6.52 6.52 6.58 7,12 7.21 7.33 7.45 7.45 7.55 p.m. 3.15 821 8.82 8.52 4.06 4.13 4.20 4.82 4.40 4.50 5.05 R. TIME TABLE East. Goderich Menset ... McGaw Auburn Blyth Walton McNanght ... Toronto Toronto McNaught Walton/177t A h Auburn MeGaw liiien'eset eGoderich .......... West. • a.m. 5.50 5.55 6.04 6.1 6.25 6:40 6.52 1025 7A0 11.48 12.01 12.12 12.23 12.34 • 12.41 12.-:5 p.m. 1.15 1.20 1.30 1.41 1.52 2.07 2.19 6.20 5:10 8.57 9.10 9.22 9.33 9.44 9.61 0.55 HEIRS WANTED Missing Heirs are being sought broughout the world. Many people erre-io-day living in comparative pov- art" who are really rich, but do not know it: You #'`ray be one of them_ Bendfor Tiidea•,licoik,.'Missing Heirs and Next of R,ia" tlnnttaining care- fully authenticated 1t4 --Of missing 's and unclaimed eaates.;which Lam been advertised for, here and abroad. The Index of Meiling' Heirs We offer for sale contains thotill'ende of names which have, app'pez red in Anierican, Canadian, English, Scotch, Irish, Welsh, German; French, Bel. glen, Swedish, Indian, Colonial, and other newspapers, inserted by lawy les, executors, administrators Alia contains list of English and Irieb Carts of Chancery and umilaimed tip Oldends list of Bank of England.. Our name or your ancestor'C may be In the list. Send $1.00 (one dollar) et once for book. International Claim Agency ��yDept. , 296 . Pittsburgh, 8 aefl o S. A. k CHAPTER XXIII Mrs. Tremaine was invited to pay a visit at the house of a friend where Julia was breaking her journey South and they were to return to Riverside together. John was left with the boys for a week, and in the solitude of the place they were cheerful com- panions to him. His "Mother's ab- sence made the place lonely and strange, and he felt restless and dis- satisfied. As he walked with Julia Tremaine's sons, he found himself wondering what the mother was like. For the first time since his return to Riverside, he permitted himself to think about Julia. Now and again, when he passed old landmarks -the pasture, the scene of their parting - an image of her would attempt to force itself upon him; but with his strong will he brushed it away. He asked Leavitt: "What is the measure of ' a man's soul? Do you know, Sam?" The lawyer stroked his chin before he replied in his pleasant drawl: "I reckon, John, just as high as ne can think." "As much," said Tremaine, "as he can endure." Leavitt shook his head. "No, barbarians and ,savages can give us examples of brute endurance. It's something else." They leaned side by sidem, on the bar of the South Pasture. Behind them the river, flushed with the Win- ter sunset, flowed between its red banks, and before them each 'Window As one of your daily dozes • tine !p with- SiroePklish • keeps ydtg yo� ande5 ,+ „ r Zety• Oct 9A gpai l kfor btlr . keT Bkpt dor 'hers seed 1.104, br 'hers 2" John repeated the rds ti�zclaly. "Pot` ot` olly's,'r said the lawyer. "It would prettynear break her heart. For you own sake, I think you ought to go." John, starred slightly, and the sun set light was warm upon his face. "When it gets too much for me, I shall go back to South Africa.' Leavitt looked up at • him. -"I cant see that anything would Be too much for you, John." "Running . away," said John Tre- Maine; "is a mighty poor way to solve problems, after all. I ran a- way once before, and while I made shift -to construct myself a new life and, as I said, obtained comparative peace, I should not find that peace there now if I returned," Leavitt looked at him seriously. "Something in Virginia bas irre- vocably destroyed it?" Tremaine did not reply-. His nep- hews had taken their place on either aide of him, and his hand rested on Roger's shoulder. "I 'wonder what Mrs. David Tre- maine is like?" John said aloud. And little. David answered: "Mother?" in the tone a boy only uses for one wo- man until he becomes a man. "Mo- ther? Why, she's a corker, Uncle John." "Ah," said his uncle approvingly, "that's the way to speak, old chap." "Aad,'L said little Roger in his dreamy voice, "she• must have been prettywhen she •was young." Both men laughed, and the boys jumped down from the fence on which they had climbed in order to be on a more equal height with their big uncle. The four walked. over to the house together in' the half darkness, the boys hanging on John's arms. So they came up to the house, but they did not go in together. As they entered, Mammy caught the boys: "Doan yo' tink fer to go in de pah- ler wid dem ombrageous shoes, chil- lum. Yo' stay right heah, an' Mam- my'Il get yo' slippers. Go 'long in, Marse John, of yer feet ain't wet." Leavitt had left them to go home by the highroad and John saw his nephews struggle in Mammy's pow- erful grasp as he went through to- ward the parlor. In his mother's absence he often spent his evenings in the dining - room, where he spread on the table his maps of the country, and worked in a cloud of smoke. Now he saw a light from the parlor shine out into the --hall. ° Some one was playing on the piano which had never been„o erred since he has come from South Africa. A woman was singing soft- ly with a voice full of poignant ap- peal. John stood in the hallway, trans- fixed. His mouth grew hard as steel, his jaw set, and his eyes clouded. One after another the scenes of his past rushed on him with a sweep. His heart rose to his throat, he drew a deep breath as the singing ceased. He hesitated a moment and then went in. The woman who had been sitting at the piano rose slowly and stood where she was. Under the light from the piano lamp, John saw her plain- ly, distinctly, every detail of her. She wore a black velvet coat; a small hat of soft fur came down upon her hair; and she lifted her eyes and looked straight at John. Just such pictures of her standing straight and chal- lenging, with her handsome head held up and her big dark eyes full on him, he had year by year put stern- ly from ' his mind. Now she stood there before him, living, palpitating -a link with the bitter past he hat- ed. e>K ` ylle3u,,wr o 'ft! ax g the in th.3r o !untied sh w e, t eb ated h { put lir' Sons;,Smight ,.1 'e' b. ;o. ant d of Iter have such : Y.. to his . *ale,' one ar'na a4ro chd lnl mo- ther's waist; .."didn't,f:.teil yoga she was e`,.. corker, Uncle Johns :And what did -we write you, inothert Un- cle John's a dead ghat, ,.he hits the bull''s-+,aye nine ti des .44t<'ten,. and I've a real. h vent , Uncle John? And Uncle John's e •1 oat popular- man be the outh. • I'ni .:aw- fully sorry, but I'in a raidhave to live down here in Virginia mother." Mrs. Tremaine and ,J'ghn laughed over the ,children''S hem, ` and their eyes met' in a more natural glance. `9I congratulate ylou, JI;.lia,". .lie said. And she answered;.' with' em- pressenleut: "I'm g14ad you're friends." CHAPTER XXIV The following 'morning,when he waked, he came ,into icentsciousness knowing that a :great, Change had taken place in his environment. Be had passed a restles night and to- ward daylight -bad fallen into a heavy sleep, out of which he wasawakened slowly by' some >'one • singing. 'He heard the Village Clock in Redlands strike the hour,and when the sound had ceased, the singing voice con- tinued under his window, "I want your i1ot'e to followe me, follow, me home- ' . ." It was Julia Tremaine; and he won- dered ondered why she was out :so •early, and the thought suggested itself that she too had passed a restless 'night, but, unlike himself, had not caught up with sleep. She sang through the first verse of the song,'then interrupt- ed it to call to her children. "Davey! Roger!!!" , His window was oven,: heard the young fresh voices of his nep- hews: "Mother, there are three autos in the stables!" "It isn't a garage; it's a stable -lots nicer!" "And there are bully horses! Torn lifted me up on the backs of all of them!" -"And he did me too, mother!" -"Such a bully Irishman, mother! You ought to hear his brogue!" -"I'm stuck on Virginia, mother!" -"Isn't it great hear ?"-"Isn't Uncle John---" "Hush, hush!" and the boys were led away. He could hear the voices soften and the three passed under his window. But she had known thatshe was standing under his window, Of course. Had she stood there purpor;ely and sung to waken him? That would be like her! Was it like her? What did he know of Julia Treinae'"! Julia Cameron he had known, as a young. man knows a very young woman a- bout whom there is Iittle to 'know. He was fully awake and lay upon his bed, his hands under his head, un- willing immediately to enter into the complexities of his present life; un- willing for a little while to face the change that had come. He was now under the same roof with the woman who had awakened his first passion. She had been dis- loyal to him, and he had resolutely determined to forget her. But it had been long before he could think of Julia without emotion, and his final dissassociation from her had been the result of determination as strong as was the rest of his character. Now what had she become? As if to answer him, he heard a- gain the call "Mother!" and realized that she had justified her existence, she was the mother of two children. As he lay outstretched upon his bed, his hands under his head, he saw before him the simplicity of his small room; he had not changed his quar- ters, though he had added to them - and on the chirnneypiece lay his gloves, his pipes -a man's belong- ings. There was not a single photo- graph or anything personal to an- other. He had not been able to bring anything persona] into his life. David had founded a family. David had taken from him the woman he had chosen. He would be impersonal to her. He would not harbor the feeling' of bit- terness she had awakened; she should be to him nothing but the mother of his nephews and his bro- ther's widow. His life was a busy one; there was no reason why she should in any wise affect it, he said to himself; but he knew that his en- vironment had changed. An hour Dater, he walked through the little stretch of woodland that lay at the foot of the meadows. The morning post had brought him let- ters that gave the impersonal turn to his thoughts that he wanted. One was a strong, vigorous appeal from Brandegee, reading almost like a command, that he should enter active polities. Another was from the Dem- ocratic Club in Richmond, urging him in much the same fashion, but with greater deference, to be a candidate for Congress. Since coming back to Virginia, there had stirred in him the strongest af- fection for the State.; He was ac- customed to have people seek him and turn to him. His back seemed built for burdens. Everywhere, all through his career, he had been bearing them. In South Africa, his advice had been sought by many. He was accustom- ed to consider other people's prob- lems with patience and kindness. In - Julia Tremaine, with both hands on the piano lid, waited for him to come up to her. She was sure of her beau- ty, sure that she had grown more lovely and that she need not be a- fraid of his judgment of her physical charms. As John, however, did not come forward, she left the piano and moved toward him with both her hands held out. Half smiling, with a subtle comprehension of what the moment was, she whispered, "John! John!" and waited. She could not guess what was in the man's mind. At the first sight of her, all his re- sentment faded. For one brief mom- ent, one brief second, she was nothing but the woman herself, the woman he once had deeply loved. Her voice singing, as he had heard it in the hallway, smut him profoundly; then the sudden sight of her -her near- ness, her calling his name aloud as in the early days of his exile she had called him in his dreams -all this made him for a moment forget every- thi.lg but the fact that he actually saw her again. "Aren't you going to speak to me, John ?" Then, as sharply, the spell broke in him and betWeen him and her; be- tween him and this woman carne the face of his brother, the remembrance of the past, the truth of what had been. John put out his hand frankly, and a light broke over his face, which had been as set as a graven face. "Of course, I'm going to speak to you. How do you do? We did not expect you till to -morrow. Is my mother here? Why are you left a- lone?" Mrs. David Tremaine bit her lip and slightly shook her head, as if she said: - "I understand your emo- tion. It is great and you won't give way." "She is upstairs," she said, then added softly: "Isn't it strange 'to; Sheet like this?" "I see nothing strange," he said thortly. "Things ate ,;:.tot • Mttaft )t _ fir' Amin a,$,♦YQga " ;6Uli11111IIlIIUc II! f, euges+i; The Golfe arbtees the sa ty est will e e Withdraw your raexie Head Mee: 15$piean`H: Toronto Dianix Cor. Bay and Adelaide Ste, 549 Danforth Mnue Other Branches st;' Harailton9 St. Catharines, St. Marla, fillmbrOite, Owen Sound, Ottawa, Seaforth, Walkerton, `Nl u' deed, the broad way in which he en- tered into affairs that in no wise af- fected himself had been one of the reasons why he was known as "Big Tremaine"-perhaps a better person than the other, which put him high because of his great wealth. Here in Virginia, fromthe day when he had first appeared in Rich- mond he had been sought out and appealed to; and he could not help feeling the power that he possessed, and that, if given the opportunity, he could do much for his own people. Every one of the demands ' upon, him here had brought with it its peculiar satisfaction. The fact that he could win, notwithstanding the opinion that Leavitt and his mother and Malvern held of him, could not fail to gratify him. Each day and each hour put upon his career and his Life before these people the seal of what he was. He knew it. As he walked in the woods think- ing of these things, he again heard little Davey's voice calling; "Mother, mother!" and' looking up he saw Jul- ia Tremaine coming toward him, a son on either side. He saw her before she saw him and when she stopped with the boys to bend down and observe a rabbit - hole, he stood and watched the group. His first impulse was to turn about and go back before she had seen him. Then he found himself drawn to her by a feeling of curiosity. The three stood in a little opening in the woods -an opening like a cup in the heart of the pines, flooded with sunlight. As Julia bent with her boys, he saw that her figure was young and charming. She knelt down on the pine -covered earth, on one knee, the boys on all fours beside her, peering down into the rabbit - hole. As the day was mild and soft she wore no coat. Her dress was black and close -fitting, with sleeves stopping at the elbows. She had picked up, before leaving the house, a scarf of Mrs. Tremaine's and had thrown it about her shoulders, and she wore a little ghat used by her mother-in-law for garden and coun- try use, its violets and the delicate ribbons lightening the effect of her black dress. As she knelt, both her hands clasped behind her back, white and round and appealing in their charm, the darker woods around her and the blond heads of her children at her side, in the warm sunlight, the picture she made could not fail to appeal to the eyes of a man in whom the love of beauty and admiration for women were keen. "It's no use watching, boys," he heard her say. "The rabbit's gone down to his family. He won't come out again." "It's Br'er Rabbit, isn't it, mother," Roger said. "Mammy will tell us a- bout him. We'll ask her. I dare say he's up to some of his clever tricks, under the ground. I wish we could see!" Tremaine came slowly around the curve of the path, and before she had time to rise she saw him. He could not but be flattered by the red that sprang into her cheeks and by her expression of pleased surprise. "Oh, Uncle John!" Both his neph- ews rushed toward him. "There's a great big fat rabbit just gone down into the hole! If you only had your gun!" She said "Good morning" and held out her hand. "How nice to meet you out here like this, John. We have been all through the woods. Riverside is wonderfully transformed," "Yes," he said; "nothing stands still; everything changes." He turned about and walked along with them, although he had intend- ed going on to the mines. "No," she said, "there are things that are not affected by the years." "I suppose," he replied, "you refer to feelings, but you are wrong. They are the most uncertain and capricious of all things." And she said quickly: "Oh, no. They d e�ien and grow more pro- found." / "Uncle John," said one of his nephews, "Mammy says you're going to run for president!' And .Julia said: "I am so inter- ested in this campaign and in the politics of Virginia. I wanted David to take • an active part Ile should have done so. Of course you will accept the nomination, John?" It was evident to him that she in- tended to ignore their past. He had not thought of her for years; and her appearance was a surprise to him. She had gained in style and in as- surance. She was smiling ab him frankly, ail itvagh she said' "t vn mine banit. atet .eat frit! . r Read n k�lrn s' giving nears or enchn world-frunous plprep- aratio forEpilepsg ijn� it Fits ePmp1e �'SpOOeytl home fi't ann rtkts much of me -I can give it" "Why did David not go into pol- ities?" he asked abruptly, and add- ed; "Since you wished it?", "He was devoted to his profes- sion." "I'm sure your influence on him must have been enormous." She shook her head. "There you're wrong. He did exactly as he liked." With her children, Julia was de- lightful and during the first few days they followed her everywhere. He could hear their gay voices across the hall as they told her of "Uncle John." When Tremaine realized that her presence was pleasing to 'him, he felt a' subtle sense of irritation. It an- noyed him to feel that the discreet presence of his brother's widow did not annoy him. Why could she not have stayed in the North and have written? He would have solved her financial problems for her better at a distance. He acquired the habit of going early to the mines and lunch- ing there; Nolan would fetch him down sandwiches and beer. And he created for himself duties which would prolong his absence and exile him from the homestead. One afternoon as Leavitt was starting out on his daily pilgrimage John surprised him by riding up and asking for a few moments of his time. "I won't keep Sam," said John. "Come in, come in!" said the law- yer. "Twenty-five, if you like." But he saw by the way that John had begun to walk up -and down, his hands behind his back, his riding - whip in his hand, that ne was not likely to see Mrs. Tremaine that af- ternoon. John said abruptly: "I told you when I came that I should return to South Africa. Now I want you to help me to wind up my affairs, for I am going in a fort- night" "Why," said the lawyer, "it will just about kill your mother." John laughed. "You think of noth- ing but the woman always!" he ex- claimed. "What a faithful man you are!• It did not kill my mother when I went away before, and I shall leave her in rather better circumstances now. I want to make my will and give her Riverside and an income. I shall also make a bequest to Chloe. Will you put these things in shape for me as soon as possible, old man?" Leavitt placed himself on the win- dow -seat, whence he could see the road, where John's horse was being led up and down by a negro boy. He said, nodding at his companion: -"Running away, again; eh, John?" "How do you mean?" "Looks very much as though you could not face the music," said the older man; "and yet I reckon you have come up to harder propositions than this in your wanderings." Tremaine shrugged. "It seems too bad," said the law- yer, "when you've at bast got a chance of making good." "Making good?" Leavitt nodded. "To your mother, for all these dreadful years." Tremaine swore under his breath. Always of her! He said sharply, stopping in his walk to confront the lawyer: "For God's sake, man, think just a little of me!" "Perhaps," pursued Leavitt obstin- ately, "it is just as well that there is some one to think only of her," "She is fortunate." Leavitt smiled. "It never occurred to me to call your mother that," he said, "until you come home." "She has her daughter-in-law," said John. "She has her grandchil- dren; she has a fortune and the de- votion of the most faithful soul on the face of the earth." "Ah, yes!" Leavitt smiled. "By the why. I have a letter from Isobel." He touched the pocket of his coat and drew it nut. Tremaine put up his hand. "Don't show it to me," he said shortly; "let us talk about my business," "You are a singular man, .John Tremaine!" said the lawyer. And to his surprise, Tremaine, lifting his eyes to Leavitt's, said: "I am a damned lonely one." There ensued a moment's silence between them, after which Leavitt, who had not taken in the full ?li - nificance of the fact that Tremaine, whom he had grown to love, was leaving Virginia, now said daringly: "Why don't you tell her, my boy?" Tremaine laughed. "I should have given yon credit, Leavitt, for more, Southern pride than you express i what you have said to -day." ° UTa, do`l't IthoWPsaid al, you five seconds, pride as .othe quali'l e.ti., 1. think , a . woman should" have every • chance A' know the man she loves. " "Come!" said, John,- almost, liieree-,. ly, "you don't.. know 'What .you are saying! What do you'a1ieait by the man she loves'? I am a `matter.of complete indifference ' to .Miss ,lel- vern." Leavitt shook his head. "Oh, no:"' he said. "Foos little girl!" "We'll leave her out of the quer'-' tion, if you please," said his sem- panion roughly, "and keep to the one. in hand. I have told you what I .in tend to do. Now if you will. be SO ': good-" There was a. knock at Leavitt?s front door. Neither man had seen the visitor arrive, and Leavitt him-, self, springing up from the window- seat, indowseat, opened the door for Mr. Ma1=. vern. Malvern did not at once see that Leavitt was not alone, and he be- gan in a hearty voice: "Glad to find you at Monier How do you do, my dear He wrung the 1 much effusion. HI vitt?" er's hand with 's face was excited and Leavitt, as he greeted his neigh- bor, saw iii him a transformation so great as to be explained by only one of two things -a great and sudden rise in fortune, er an unexpected hap- piness. Malverenut his hat on the table, threw down his gloves, threw back his overcoat and seated himself in a chair. (continued next week.) Winnipeg, Man. -Not one crop fail- ure in the province of Manitoba dur- ing the 1925 season is the report of the provincial department of agricul- ture. Wheat averages nineteen and a. half bushels to the acre and oats 44. Montreal, Que.-The library of 'Mc- G.ill University here has experienced such an enormous growth within the last few years that it has already outgrown the extension to the library building made three yearrs ago. The McGill library no wboasts 2,000 vol- umes. Itts libraarian, Dr. G. Lome`, has just returned from England,where .he acquired some rare books and man- uscripts to place in the University stacks. Many recent additions are ancient oriental treatise, some of them being palm leaf manuscripts from Ceylon which date to the thirteenth century. FARMS FOR SALE jinn ACRES, ONE OF HURON COUNTY'S choice productive farms ; level, well drained: red brick house, furnace and bath room ; hank barn and shed, silo, garage, sugar busk : close to sdhoals, town, station, high- way. Also 75 acres pasture. Immediate pos- session. WILLIAM PEARCE, Hensall. 8018.1 ARM FOR SALE. -FOR SALE. LOT NO. 8, North Boundary, Hay, 21, of Kippen, containing 80 acres. The., lie on the premises a frame house, bank barn and shed combined, size 60x48 and 36x24. Ten acral of hardwood bush. Apply to MRS - JAMES COCHRANE, R. R. No. 2, Hensall', Ont. 8016x5 ie ARM FOR SALE. -FOR SALE NORTH half Lot 5, Concession 2, Hullett, con- taining 50 acres. There are on the premises a good frame house and kitchen: bank barn, 34.62 and 13.52; one acre of good orchard, apple, plum and pear trees. 'The farm is well drained and fenced; 5 miles from Sea - forth, and 21./22 from Constance. School across the road. Apply to Mrs. MARY RROwN, Administratrix, Brucefield P. 0., or W. BRYnONE, Clinton P. 0. 3016-tf FARMS FOR SALE. -FOR SALE, LOT 6, Concession 3, H.R.S., Tuckersmith, and Lot 8, on same concession. On Lot 6 there is a first class bank barn, 44x80, good driv- ing shed, hog prm and hen house; a good 1', story frame house, in good repair. All choice land, well fenczrd and tile drained, and clean: plenty of water. Two miles from Seaforth. Must be sold to close an estate_ For further partricuiars apply on the prem! 'a or address P. O'SULLIVAN or JOSEPH FLANNAGAN, Executors of the estate of the late Thomas Flanagan. 3016-0 1 ARM FOR SALE. -FOR SALE LOT 11. Concession 8, NIcnKillop, containing 1ef: acres. There are on the premises a sir frame house, 10 rooms; bank berm, 60x50. driving hone, water in barn and house; ll§ acres of excellent orchard. mostly spins. The farm fa all tile drained and well fenced: 1 miles from St. Columban Catholic Chards set school. 5 miles from Seafortb, and SOK MON from Dublin; rural mail end phone. The farm will be sold on roeao:eable terms. !lite further particnlare apply on the prenalee er address. Seaforth P. O. JOS1d8*r.; MCQiYA$!l. 20V5xotaeZ A argain von s1 'T, °,rLl~"itrl64 ,ace 1111!! relit Seaforth; mnderl! 11#n'""' tear 'bath adOr x3flo.