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Home My WebLink AboutThe Huron Expositor, 1937-12-10, Page 7a1 • R 4 4 4 ti 4 4 4 4 rt < 4 4 4 • 4 • 4 r a 1 v 4 4 4 4 4 4 4' aQ rill ;l 11 lx to a '}� liti°ii✓„u INMER 10, 1937,. tq ' LEGAL HAYS dt-HEIR - Succeedinp R. O. Hayle ' Barristerl0, Solleitors, Conveyancers and Notaries Public. Solicitors for this Dominion Bank. Office in rear of the Dominion Bank, Seaforth. Money to, loan. 12-36 DANCEY & BOLSBY BARRISTERS, SOLICITORS, ETC. LOFTUS E. DANCEY, K.C. P.. J. BOLSBY GODERICtH , • - BRUSSELS IP- 3-87 ELM D. BELL, B.A. Successor to John H. Best Barrister, Soli itor, Notary Public Seaforth -- Ontario 12-86 VETERINARY A. R. CAMPBELL, V.S. Graduate of Ontario Veterinary Col- lege, University of Toronto. All dis- eases of domestic animals• treated by the moat modern principles: Charges reasonable. Day or night calls promptly attended to. Office on Main Street, Hensall, opposite Town Hall. Phone 116. Breeder of Scottish Ter- riers, Inverness Kennels, Hensall. 12-36 MEDICAL DR. GILBERT C. JARROTT Graduate of Faculty of Medicine, University of Western Ontario. Mem- ber of ' College of Physicians and Su:rgeos of Ontario. Office, 43 Gode- rich Street West. Phone 37. Successor to Dr. Charles Mackay. 12-86 DR. W. C. SPROAT Physician: - Surgeon Phone 90rW. Office JohnSt., Seaforth. 12-46 DR. F. J. BURROWS Office and residence, Goderich St., east of the United Church, Seaforth. Phone 46. Coroner for the County of Huron. 12-86 DR. HUGH H. ROSS Graduate of University of Toronto Faculty of Medicine, member of Col- lege of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario; pass graduate course in Chicago Clinical School of Chicago ; Royal Opthaimie Hospital, London, England; University Hospital, Lon- don,' England.. Office -Back of Do- minion Bank, Seaforth. Phone No. 5. Night calls answered from residence, Victoria Street, Seaforth. 12-86 DR. E. A. McMASTER Graduate of the University of Toron- to, Faculty. of Medicine Member of College of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario; graduate of New York Post Graduate School and Lying-in Hospital, New York. Of- fice on High Street, Seaforth. Phone 27. Office fully equipped for X-ray diagnosis and ultra short wave ' elec- tric treatment, Ultra Violet Sun Lamp treatments, and Infra Red electric treatment. Nurse in attendance. 12-36 DR. F. J. R. FORSTER Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat Graduate in Medicine, University of Toronto. Late assistant New York Opthal- mei and Aural Institute, Moorefield's Eye and Golden Square Throat Hos- pitals, London, Eng. At Commercial Hotel, Seaforth, third Wednesday „in each month, from 1.30 p.m. to 4.30 p.m. 53 Waterloo Street South, Strat- ford. 12-36 DR. DONALD G. STEER Graduate . of Faculty of Medicine University of Western Ontario. Mem- ber of College of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario. Full. equip- ment, including an ultra short wave set. Office King Street, Hensall. Phone Hensall 66. 12-36 DENTAL DR. J. A. McTAGGART Graduate Royal College of Dental Burgeons, Toronto. Office at Het -mall, Ont. Phone 106. 12-56 AUCTIONEERS Licensed Auctioneer HAROLD DALE Specialist is farm and household sales. Prices. reasonable For dates and information, write or phone Har- old Dale. Phone 149, Seaforth, or apply at The Expositor Office. .. 12.36 • F. W. AHRENS - Licensed auctioneer for Perth and Heron Counties. Sales solicited. Terms on application. Farm Stook, Chattels and; Real 11:atate Property. R. R. No. 4, Mitchell. Phone 684 r 8 .Appy at avid ofee4 , .4.:Mal G,Y by ELIZABETH SAN CAY HOL-DiNC (Continued from lest week) She said no, that she wasn't. "Could you set slime? Next Wed- nesday?" And' she said she thought that would do. 11 "You don't mind, if r go out to tea on Wednesday, do you?" Frances ask- ed Miss Eppendorfer the next morn- ing. "Not a bit!" said she, cheerfully. "I like to see you enjoy yourself like a human being. Is it your English friend'?„ "Yes. The only 'trouble is, I haven't a thing fit to wear, and it's at a ho- tel," she said. "Couldn't you come down town with me and help me pick out something?" Miss Eppendofrer was only too pleased; it was one of .her good days and she was cheerful and energetic. She led Frances from shop to shop, imperiously rejecting every sugges- tion'. "I know what suits you," she insist- ed', "I'm a wonderful judge of value, too. You leave it all to me." At last she was pleased by a grey broadcloth suit. "Oh, yes!" cried Frankie, ironical- ly. "A hundred and fifty dollars is just what I always' pay!" "I'm going to get it for you-" "Oh, no, I couldn't!" she protested, shocked. "You must. To 'make up for all I said that night," whispered the auth- oress. "Be generous, Frances! Don't be petty!" She allowed herself to be persuad- ed, 'accepted the spit and with it a new hat and blouse. She felt guilty and ashamed and yet delighted. She .c as so .very anxious to make a fav- orable impreselon on this brother Horace. She started off, very nervous and still more ashamed. The whole ex- ploit seemed wrong, meeting the man lth'out his wife, and wearing clothes she -could' never have bought for her- self. . . . It was common. "Cheap," she reflected. But Horace would have made a su- per -club respectable, -°'They were wait- ing tn• the corridor; she saw her Mr. Naylor at once though he didn't see her; slender and drooping, quietly conscious of his impeccable British elegance, he was watching 'the wrong dloor. Near him was a 'heavy, bull- necked, red-faced man with a black moustache and melancholy, bilious eyes, wh'o smoked a big cigar and stared nowhere. This was Horace. He surprised Frances by his lack of everything that pleased her in Its. brother. He was altogether the mer- chant, not a hint of the man -of -the - world. He shook hands with her and Smiled, but it was a sad, dull smile. He was distrait, and couldn't conceal it. "Well,", he said., with a sigh, "Lead the way, Lionel, my boy!" They entered' an engaging little tea-room with shaded lamps and sof- as. Lionel took charge of everything, chose a table and ordered the cock- tails, but the management of the con- versation was evidently beyond him. There was a long and awkward sil- ence, while the drinks were coming. No one looked at either of .the oth- ers. Ft was.. Horace who first reviveai; after two cocktails. • "Well," he observed again, "he's a Ivandful. You'll have to keep an eye on him, I can telt you." Frances was startled; was he talk- ing to her? . . . She looked up and caught his gaze, melancholy and kindly, fixed on her. "You'll have all you can manage, with him," he continued. She was a'larm'ed and confused. It wasn't possible ,that he thought And yet, very evidently, he did think so, for he went on, with a ort of gloomy archness: "I hope he won't be too much for you." She was anxious to refute the sug- gestion of any responsibility for Lion- el, to tell this brother, subtly and politely, but unmistakably, that he misread the situation. But she could not, on the spur of the moment, think of anything that would do. "I don't really know Mr. Naylor very well," she attempted. Horace smiled. "Plenty of time!" he said. And this time his glance wandered. to his brother, and was curiously al- tered, rested upon that futile young face with limitless fidelity and affec- tion- • - "Yes," he said again, fatuously, "you'll have your hands full." , Frances had a "'horrible feeling of being caught in a net "I'm afraid I can't undertake suoh a responsibility," she said, with a sickly smile. Horace smiled indulgently at 'bei. After a third cocktail, be was becom- ing a little garrulous on the subject of his brother; partly because he thought it would interest Frankie and partly because it was his great topib anyway. His pride in his brother was rather surprising to Frankie; she couldn't know, of course, from what a stodgy, obscure family this charm- ing irresponsibility ,rad sprung, couldn't imagine how .audacious hie extravagances appeared, how remark- able his social progress; in. fine, she couldn't see him as ax Naylor. It was not until much later that she divined something of the rela- tions betwee'n these two: Sons of a well-to-do nt'am ifacturor, they had both "received advantages" in the way of education, and so forth, but while Horace remained immutably the son of a wealthy manufacturer who had had' "advantages," Lionel in sonl'e mysterious Way, not nntisual In tlii,9 World,. had turned out to be aria- ttociatte, elegant fe;Shitonable. x4 .i t 1r NJ 1 ai,6 fi ar. hs. r R•. �, " 1 Nati l ! � brother took a naive pride in this; he athwiredi, Lionel as he did royalty, not very useful, but immensely valu- able in his place. li'enever urged him to go into business; he was quito. satisfied, that he should go his own dazzling way. For Horace was not the classic bu'sliness man of stage and story, who despises• and berates the idler; he was something -much newer, the money-maker who is apol- ogetic and secretly bewildered; who feels called upon to justify his activ- ity. Lionel was what he would have liked to be, only that he knew it to be impossible. He acknowledged that they were of different clay. He told Frankie how Lionel ,had no idea of time, and_ was always late. How he kept the most exclusive people waiting for him and never had a proper excuse. How he spent preposterous sums on handkerchiefs, his hobby. How altogether idle and rude and popular he had been "at home." In spite of her common sense, Frankie began to feel that the atten- tions of such a man were something to boast of, to treasure. He wasn't rude to her, ever. After a fourth cocktail 'and a min- ute sardine sandwich, Horace said be was obliged to go. "Au revoir!" he said to Frankie, with a very bad accent. "If this boy gives you any trouble, you let me know, eh?" He clasped her hand in his warm, moist one with genuine good -will, slapped Lionel on the shoulder, and went out, edging his way clumsily among the little low tables,. Lionel gave a sigh of comfort, and leaned across the table. "May I have another cup?" he ask- ed. - Frances' was looking at him stern- ly. "Mr. Naylor!" she said, "you have given your brother a false impression. He was startled. "I . . so it seeing," he said, weakly, "I . . he does seem . ." "It isn't fair," she went on, "I'm surprised at you! What could I do? Or say? Mr. Naylor, really, it was not right of you ! " "I know it . . But I give you my word I never exactly said -any- thing. I dare say I was -oh, enthus- iastic . I suppose he drew his own conclusions." He went on, after a pause: "I did talk a lot about you . You see---" • He tapped his cigarette nervously on his plate. "I say!" he said. "Couldn't it be true, you know?" , . -. She understood him well enough, and a bright color surged into her face. "What?" she asked, disingenuous- ly. "I mean -what Horace thinks • . I mean -do you think you could-" She faltered. She really understood very little of it. Miss Eppendorfer, although pro- testinginstantly how she "loved" Kurt, seeined actually to display more hate -than affection. She bore him a,. bitter grudge for this "love:" She, was full of stories of his sneers, his taunts; :how he had pulled, the pias out of her hair and then laughed himself sick at the bleached and scanty locks. How' he compared her to other women whom he had seen in the course of the day; how he had asked her to sing, and then mocked her. How he wasted her money and forever demanded more. She knew that he ridiculed her to his friends. He encouraged her to drink and then got her to sign cheques. . . - Tire end of her recital left her stripped of all decency, ,all honour, showed her a weak fool destroyed by a vice, something to shudder at: yet her honesty, her lack of self-justifica- tion, the eternal and naked human - nese in, it all, touched even the fas- tidious young girl. "This awful thing is I!" the wo- man seemed to say. "This is my soul. M'ay God help me, and Man pity me!" Frances sat beside her till he fell asleep, wiser, kinder, better th she ,rad.. ever been before. CHAPTER THIRTEEN I I stick to it that it's no Place for you." They didn't talk mob more on the way down; Mr. Naylor watt too -Much occupied with his driving, which was minutely careful. He took no risks; and he muttered furiously against those who did. He seemed to Fran- kie unnecessarily prudent;'s'he would have liked to go faster as lots • .of other cars did. However, a look at his frowning face reproved! her; she felt that this driving business must bemore difficult, more perilous than her inexperience imagined. As soon as they reached the beach he proposed taking their swim at once, and she very readily agreed. Poor girl! She hadn't been in the sea for years, since those long gone days, those happy days when she bad, been a school girl. She was, it must be admitted, rather eager to "show off to her Englishman, for she was a good swimmer, and not at all an unpleasant object in a bathing, suit. She came out of her bathhouse and walked down on to the beach, con- scious of h11r splendid symmetry, her strong, straight limbs, ther face gay and- boyish under a tight rubber cap. It was obvious to both of them at once that Mr. Naylor was physically not at all her equal. Gone his chic, his superiority; he was thin, fragile, rather wretched. Within her stirred and crushed out through generations faintly an old; old instinct, perverted of false training, the instinct of the woman to seek for strength and beau- ty in her mate. Her smile was arti- ficial. "Beastly cold!" he grumbled. But Frances, dashed by him, through the breakers, and began swimming out in strong and beautiful strokes, 'her bare arms flashing up rhythmical- ly, her white teeth showing in a broad smile. She Iooked back and saw Mr. Naylor moving slowly neat the shore; after ten minutes or so' he came out on to the sand, and lay in the sun watching • her:' .And -present- ly began to wave. She came inshore reluctrantiy. "What is it?" she asked. "It's glorious in the water to -day. I never want to come out!" "It's time to come out now," be said. "Oh, it can't be! I'll have to stop longer!" "But I say, ,I want my lunch. This isn't much of a lark for me, you know roasting out here' like this." "Why don't you go back into the water again?" "I can't. It gives me a chill" "A child!" said Frances, and• couldn't keep a faint contempt out of her voice. "You'd better -go and dress -I'11 be out pres.ently." "I shouldn't think of leaving you ; you're so rash. Go ahead, enjoy your- self; I'll wait." His good nature conquered Frances -she gave one more look at the glit- tering sea and went back into her bathhouse. She had to wait quite twenty min- utes for him. "You're quick, aren't you?" be said, artlessly. "Or is it that you're slow?" she re- turned. Now he was his own self a- gain, the imperturbable, the superior. She wished to forget the s'hiv'ering. frail being who had for a time sup- planted him. He ordered an amazing lunch, in the old "Oriental," which was still standing then, with its unique flav- our; he saw people' whom he knew by -tight and oould point out to Frankie. He ordered champagne, which she had never before tasted. He was like a prince, or rather, like a mil 1 o1aire. After this meal, which was nothing less than a banquet. Frances said she would have to go home. "The awful cook's gone out," she explained, "and' I'll have to help poor Mis,, E. to get something ready." "What!" he cried. "Do you mean to tell me you're going to cook!" "And eat," she answered, cheerful- ly. "Please don't be mediwval." "I don't like it. A girl of your class -ands your ability-" They were spinning along the road by the marshes, passed by an inces- sant stream of motors going down. "It's a confoupd shame to go home now anyway," he said. "If we could only have had the evening!" "Another time," she said, before she thought, and was rather confus- ed at her own forwardness. hope so," he answered gravely, "I can't tell you how much f -like to be with you. I -altogether -I've nev- er met anyone like you. . . . I'm very anxious for old Horace to see you. . . . Do you suppose you could meet him some time? Without his wife, I mean? It's irregular, I know, but you're not conventional." "I don't know - . . It's been such Mr. Naylor telephoned the next morning. _ "I'm waiting downstairs in the hall," he said. "I don't care to come up." Frances hurried into her hat and jacket and went down. She got into the motor car\ beside him, indescrib- ably relieved to get away from the flat for a while. She booked at him with a simile. "Well!" she said. "Well!" he repeated. "Upon my word, that was a jolly little party bast night! That German chap!" "You domr't know how sorry I felt, bringing that on you. But, of course, I never imagined" "You know, though, it's no place for you, Miss Defoe. That woman's not•---" "Please! You really can't under- stand her as I do. She -really, she is . . ." She stopped at a loss, but quite de- termined to protect the poor wretch who had begged for pity the •night be- fore. "She has so many good points," she went on, "Oh, I'm not quite an idiot, Mr. Naylor, . . . I see her as she is.' Only -I'd rather dwell on her good qualdttes. She's been very kind t0 " Notme.for worlds would she have/ told anyone of the two dreadful Scenes. She enlarged on Miss Eppen'dbrfer's friendliness and,goed ihulnour and the excellence of her work. "That's all very welly" said he, "but • Iggick fl."l t , tr 940.,&1 9Pate44 . G ji'r�anfa• - •, / RATES 172 NO HIGHER A QUIET, WELL CONDUCTED, CONVENIENT, MODERN 100 ROOM HOTEL---aS WITH BATH want FOR POLDER TAKE A DE LUXE TAXI FROM DEPOT OR WHARF -Elco iirtkA?'fiWlitz)�,�ikF1A4;d14"lt ib1INS};W1hat, 4,40 •{A '14 BEAUTIFUL • DON'T forget that vow of last year to, ,selpet. your Christmas, 'Cards early this' year, sp that: you might avoid the last-minute rush. . Our lines :. . of Beautiful Christmas Cards are now 'on display,`, and if we do say it ourselves, we believe them to be the best and most economical selection we have ever offered. 49, 9 , Cards printed with your 14 name and address for 00 Other cards at proportionately low prices THE HURON EXPOSITOR Phone _41 : : Seaforth a short time-" ' "You know that doesn't matter. Time! Why, the first minute I 'saw you, there in that beastly school, I knew I was done for. You looked so lovely and so dignified. Such a lady. Just the sort of girl I'd always thought about. My lovely girl! My dear, beautiful, girl!" For some reason her eyes filled with tears. His voice touched her so, moved her so profoundly. She couldn't pretend, couldn't hesitate. Because she knew too, perfectly well. She looked up at him with 'a trembling smile. "It's silly!" she said. "We tron't know each other." "I know you, darling, as well as if I'd seen you every day for a year." "But, really, we must `be sensible," she said, seriously, "We'll have to wait: not comlmit ourselves to any- thing definite. We'll be friends -" "Not I! I want to commit myself as much as possible. Won't 'you com- mit yourself just a little bit, darling girl? Just go so far as to say you like me?" "You know I like you." she said, smiling. He could laugh now, tease her; he knew she was: won. They left the tea room and began to stroll down Fifth Avenue. And at every crossing he took her arm and their eyes mets and a ridiculous and passionate happiness' filled them both. "My girl!". he whispered. Frances was .almost ashamed of being so happy; and was anxious to appear practical and reasonable. She said she had shopping to do, and that Lionel might come with her,' if he liked. He insisted upon augmenting her little purchases, choosing very expensive things, and things' he had realized she wanted. In spite of her independence, all this was delightful to her; she hesitated, refused, accept- ed. . . . A shop girl looked' after them, was amused at their long, long glances and their unwarranted smiles: she thought them a well -matched couple, both so tall and so nice looking and so well-bred. And she was very bright; they were well ematched, by God Himself, Who had filled Lionel's need of a strong and sober and hon- est lover, who had given to Frankie the gay and careless companion her (heart required, the clinging and exi- gent affection she could so well sup- port. Lienel had the power to soften the .touch of austerity latent in her, the hint of priggishness; she had the nobility and the resoluteness which he needed as an example, a stimulus to his plastic n "soul. They had, i each other's coanpany, a sense of ab- solute completeness. and satisfaction; they knew that this love was' alto- gether right. Frances inspected the new pocket- book the had bought her, so unneces- sa'ily and unsuitably costly, and then again at Lionel's happy face. And she would have liked to cry out what she and all wdraen know enough to conceal: "Oh, my love, I want to protect you, to care for you, to shield your raw pride, forever and. ever to stand between you and the world!" And that mustn't be said. She knew she must calf his weakness strength, or she would destroy him. No man must ever see his true self mirrored in a woman's eyes. He could' not en- dure it. not scold me. Don't you want me to' have any, pleasures, at all?" "That's not the question. Oh, Lion- el, we could have just as nice a time without being so dreadfully wasteful. It's . . . why, Lionel, it's mad!" She had a genuine dislike for ex- travagance and frivolity. Old tradi- tions from .remote Defoe ancestors urged her always toward prudence and restraint. She really couldn't en- ter into Lionel's mood, couldn't for a moment he careless, and would never pretend to be. She wanted dignity and purpose ; she was fond enough of fun, but it wasn't his kind. She could not enjoy watching other people spend money. Lionel didn't care to swim, or to walk; he was quite hap- py to sit on a crowded veranda, drinking cocktails and chaffing his serious girl. He was happy now, in watching the streams of people go- ing in and, out of the hotel, over= dressed, over -perfumed, over -fed, ov- er -stimulated. But there was nothing here for Frankie. All this life that Lionel had pulled her into distressed her. He had urg- ed her to give up her business course, and instead they went out same- where every evening. Miss Eppen- dorfer was always ready to let her go, as long as she wasn't left alone. She absolutely approved of Lionel: From her point of view, he was the ideal lover, attractive and lavish. He was continually bringing presents to Frankie, flowers, chocolates an d books. He refused . to, believe that she was not very fond of sweets, and was deaf to her hints that her taste in reading was not his. She felt like a prig, a bluestocking, with her per- petual advice and rebuke. Her ser- ious soul was in revolt against this waste of time; often when they were at some blatant cabaret, she would be longing for her quiet /bona and a good book. She was really weary of this ceaseless pleasure -hunt, disgust- ed, and yet hadn't the heart to deny his pleasures to Lionel. He never react a book, and was no more cap- able or desirous of quiet than a small boy. She took it for granted that he was more or less a rich man, and that as his wife she would be obliged to endure a good deal of this sort of existence. She did ask• him, though, if .he wouldn't just as soon, • live out of town. and he said, whatever she lik- ed. So she was able to picture her- self in one of those charming subnr- ban houses on the Sounds with a fine garden, and horses, and dogs. And undoubtedly children; lovely, happy children. He had started to work in his bro- ther's onice, which pleased Frankies for she had the American woman's dislike for an unoccupied man. He said he was doing well, and talked of an early marriage:, But that, too, was against Frankie'eA principles. She wanted to wait, hot because she wasn't sure of herself or of lhinr, but because a 'hasty marriage appeared somehow indecent to her. She even refused to tell her own people. "Waist till I've known you a little longer," she said. Taken all in all, this "being engag- ed" was not what Frankie bad ex- pected, was by no means the happiest time of her life, as s'be had always been told it would be. With Lionel, per se, she could find no fault. If he had been made to order for a De- foe he could not have been more sat- isfactory. He was almost like a bro- ther in his manner, never too ardent, too pressing, or in any way offend- ing her squeamishness. It was Poli this she really adored. hitt% for his delicacy and genuine kindliness. She was too ignorant' -fully to appreciate it; she was dimply vaguely tbankfuI that he Was no like "some men" of whom sure had d andheard. Moreover, she had a little of Har- ace's absurd admiration for Lionel's social graces. All the solidi, snbetsnt• tial, Serious people In the world, have it, this irrational and sbnnenhat path. etre regard for the other%; the Mental - era, the wasters, the roles who t'eftl'ee to conferta to theft' righte nS Olde, CHAPTER FOURTEEN I "But don't worry, my dearest girl!" said Lionel. "I can't help it," said Frances. "It's such a Waste. We could just as well take a train. Or anyway the taxi needn't wait. We could always find another." They were on the veranda of a ho- tel at Long Beach, on a Sunday af- ternoon, part of the crov3d that Lion- el liked so ranch. "We might not," he said. "there's such a Mob here. Better take no ch'a'nces. .AS for the train - no, thanks,! Now, de be a nice kid, alld V( ij PIPE --- TOBACCO -- TC)BACCC) FORA MILD,COOL SMOKE the gay and audacious good-for-noth- ings. She knew that she wouldn't have dared to do as he did, live after his style. Sometbn es : She had mis- givings, fancied her ideas for the fu- ture were sordid and petty, her hope for an orderly, self-respecting sort of existence, the house in the suburbs, with books and lectures and intellec- tual friends. . . - An existence that had no place for the poor fellow's febrile excitements'. Characteristically she got Lionel in to the picture by assuring herself that he would change. (Continued Next Week) t r i fN n tL tel TORPID LIVER Coated tongue, upset digestion, biliousness; constipation, muddy com- plexion, derangement of the kidneys result from sluggish liver action and soon disappear when the liver is awakened by use of DR. CHASE'S Kidney. Liver Pills LONDON and WINGHAM South Wingham Belgrave Blyth Londesboro Clinton Brucefield Kipper Ilensall Exeter North P.M. 1.55 2.11 2.23 2.30 3.08 3.27 3.35 3.41 3.55 A.M. Exeter 10.34 Hensall ,• 110.46 Kippen 10.52 Brucefleld 11.00 Clinton 11.47 Londesboro 12.04 Blyth 12.13 Belgrave 12.24 Wingham .. • ... 12.45 C.N.R. TIME TABLE East A.M. P.M. Goderieh 6.40 2.30 Clinton 7.03 3.00 Seaforth 7.17 3.16 Dublin 7.28 8.29 Mitchell 7.37 3.41 West Mitchell 11.06 9.28 Dublin ..... 11.14" 9.36 Seaforth 11.30 9.47 Clinton, 11.45 10.00 Goderich • • • • . 12.05 10.2g C. '.R. TIM TABLE East Goderich 4.20 Henget a . .. 4.24 McGaw 4.38 Allbllrn .... w.,•• •• 4.42 Blyth YValton•1.•••,•• i *4WYs 4♦ ••••••••••• •. •.• uL Y••4*• Bali 'P0rontbb • . • • .. ' r . a • a a:t•r i . '0 # Weil Tomato ..•r..•••,•. AtteN'alight • ri s W'hitht t • • • . •.. •.. 4 r Y r.a Yl. 4.4 *- • 1 %0 `Sl,th eeW. Alib$t% 4r 4 4 IC �1MiyytS�;Ui,'�y' . -• . • . 4 .1.••••%. r i 4 4 Y;4 4,111 MettuF%etriy1�,...+•.•.• 4.4 Y•44.• •• 4`4.'8 "'el, 01 a••444r•.. aa'. i.4C40 14W YTr'. 17 rv,, ertsg IN tYY itt Ij tit