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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Blyth Standard, 1903-06-11, Page 3Five o'clock teas and social functions of any sort are incomplete without Blue Ribbon Cevion Tea By giving your guests the best you flatter them land are commended for your own good taste. Blue's. 11ie n. A=k f r Bed Ellet, FORTY CENTS --SIDS .3.D BE FIFTY 6 6IPSY'S MARRIAGE 4+3P+444•444444 Perhaps nano but a mother would have thougiat of making the poor, pitiful Utile remark; and the simple wrtrdq •seem to tell more plainly of the toss than eau ever be supplied again. Tenderly Gipsy kisses the soft little brown curl, and calls to memory the baby fame and round, dimpled Ilmbe. "And Maurice kissed blm—my poor little child 1" elle mays testily. "Oh, Gladys, no one will ever know how 1 longed and longed to hold my baby In my amts again !"—looking down at tate locks of hair through hot, blinding tears. t Gladyo goof away softly, and coulee, with a grave face, to qtr Mau- rine. "Go to your wife;" she says, gently, "anal let ber talk about her baby; it will do her good." • « Mr. Kerls going to New Zealand; he hue made up hie mind. "MY brother lives there," he ex- piable; "and he is Lalling In health, and wants me to help him." His heart beats faster as he fan- cies he sees a look of something like regret coming into Gladys' Lace. They are walking together In the warm light of a summer night. "And we are going abroad," says Wady". "I do not care about It, but mamma and Flora wish to go," That they talk of their work in London together, of the little school started by Gladys, which has grown Into a big school now, and their voices' grow tender and sad as each memory recalle other days. His peeve, deep-set eyed look down at her downcast face, and his thought' back to the old days, when she be- longed to Jim, She looks up at lieu mnddeniy, and their eyes meet. "What "hall I do without you?" she says, sorrowfully, and the color rushee to hie forehead, Their friendship has been very true and sweet. Would it be strong lough to teat for life? Or ban she left all her heart In the grave with poor Jim Lefroy? Re trembles as he takes her hand reverently In itis. "Do you remember," he whispers, tremulously, "that he lett you In my charge? Do you remember, Gladys, that he Joined Our hands to- gether ?" Her face quivers as elle bends It Over the !land bolding hers. "Do you think," he continues, "that I could go away without you, Gladys), dear? I have waited long and pa- tiently; am I to have my reward at • Tit?„ e only response to this Is a tear which splashes on his hand. Si- lently they both recall'the day when poor Jim clapped their hands to- bobd,ether with bis own weak, dying I think It is what Jim woi ld have wished," he says, in low, serious tones. " I do not ask for the love you gave him, Gladys—only to let Me love you, and take care of you, and try to make you happy." ' " I can never care for tory one as I cared for Jim," Rho answers, in a hushed voice. " I think the best past of me died with him that day." Tenderly he lays his hands upem her shoulders. ' Will you give yourself to me, Gladys? I am content Hutt you should have loved him best," One look Into the patient, loviug face, and Gladys bends her fair head. "It you wish, John." CHAPTER XLVII. 1t Is the golden month of Septem- ber, and among the purple muuutal s in the AV'est(ru Highlands a happy, sociable party are assembled, Colo- nel Bryan hating taken a lodge for the end of /the grouse season and the autumn fishing, where, Joined by Sir Maurice and los tvile and Gladys I'Inko and Mr. Ker, he and they pre- pare to spend a few most delightful weeks atuld the grand scenery Jr sea and mountain, and wild moor purple. with fragrant heather. To Gipsy it 1s like those first awset Bays of her married life, when she ane !eau ise had fished for trout in the brawling burns, and had been no happy amidst Pte shadows of the eternal hills, The happiness is hers still, Duly a little shadowed by the remembrance of the trouble that parted them. But for the present all the past is forgotten. In the long walks and drives and scrambles every met Thought Is put aside, tend all give themselves up to the onjoymeat of tho ]tour. And Gladys is happy, too, with a calmer, deeper, hunnh,€'-i ;tan her passionate love for Jim L fray THE AVEItAoK BAH 1. The average baby is a good baby— cheertul, smiling, and bright. When 110 is cross and fretful It Is beeans', he only moans he has to let everybody know he dots not Leel right. When baby le erose, restless and elbepness don't dose Irina with "soothing" stuffs, winch always oentaln poisons. Baby's Own Tablets are what is needed to put tho little one right. Give a °rose baby an occasional Tablet and 'mellow- quickly he will be tranefortn- ed into a bright, smiling, cooing, happy child. Doevilt elecp tet night, and the mother will get her rest too. Yon have a guarantee that Bettye: Own Tablets contain not one particle of opiate or harmful drug. In all the minor ailments from birth up to ten or twelve years there Ie nothing to epee the Tablets. Mrs. W. B. An- derson, Goutnle Salvor, Ont., says: "My litho boy was very cross end fretful and we got no rest with him until wo began tieing Baby's Own ZYtblete. Since then baby rests well and he 1e now a fat, healthy boy." You can got the Tablets from any druggiet, or they will be gent by mail at 25 cents a lox by' writing direct to tho Dr. Williams' Medicine Co., Brockville, Ont, brought her In the old (Jaye. Thera le trio shadow in her eyes dory ; else rests in the love of a brave, true heart—a heart tried by fire, Indite] —and perhaps In the years to come olio will be able to say : "John, I love you best." Colonel Bryan will never quite for- give himself for having been the Cause of the trouble and sorrow of those weary months. When Gipsy's fame looks sad, he gets grave, and hie conscience smites him, ae he thlnke that but for trim his own wdto would never have suffered as etre did, and Gipsy might have been happy now In the love of her little child. A close bond of sympathy unites them all; the past has been for- given, and will, with time's gentle healing, be forgotten; and, by com- mon consent, that past time, with Its tears and woe, Is a second subject. « « « « « « It to a wild, stormy evening, with hattks of squally adouds flying over the sky, and a heavy mist roiling in from the sea and rushing like scud up the Wee of he mountain, Through THE RIGHT PAINT A,RAMSAY &SON. Esro.1842, MONTREAL_ PAINT MOM. r (104)1) HEALTH. How It call lir Obtained and How It Can be Piesei•ved. . Titre. L ,tiro tN the whole body des 01,011 Um blood and nerves. The eleul noel l o itch and pure, and the nerves vtgoruuu amt strong. There - torn a meJieltte that makes new blood and strengthens the uocves roaches the root of marry scrlous dis- ease. Dr. Williams' Pink P1118 will Jo this, and thin 1s the secret of their wonderful power to conquer disease,, Thousaihw of eases—many of them In your own n igltborltood--lave proved that Or. At'iti tams' Pink Pills will cure theemat em, bctntlea, partial paralysis, St. Vitus' dates, nervous and bilious headache, heart trouble, indigestion, peeralgio and the ali- ments that render etc 'lives of se many women a source of miecry. Mr. Jus. Maims, ttnrs, Brandon, Man., 003's: "Before I began the net of Dr. Wil- liams' Pink Pills my health was much shattered with rheumatism, melons depression and sleeplesenese. For fully 11 year I rarely got a good night's sleep. f gave the pills a thorough trail and can now truth- fully soy 1 could not wish for better health.' Whitt lir. Williams' Pink Pills have done for others they will surely do for you, but you should be careful to gel the genuine with the full name, 'lir. \1'I!lituns' I'Ink Pille for Pale People," on the wrapper round each bot. Sold by all medicine dealers or sant by mail at SOc per box or six hexes for $2.30, by writing to the Dr. Willltm's' M'd'eine Co„ Brook- ville, Ont. the mist the waves can be seen fly- ing in white sheets of spray, lashed into Willie mountains by the squalls. Gipsy leeks out of It window anx- ious.,; . "1 wed! Maurice was home," She stays, as a fresh gust shakes the house. "?low very suddenly the storm MIN risen It in a warm, snag llttie room, the walls panelled in pitch (Inc, and deer- skins and fur rugs on the polished floor. A feu' trophies of the ohase adore the twills, and outside, beyond int windowst., the view is Simply mag- utficen Gipsy, In a tight -fitting, blue serge dress, leans against the window frame watching. elbyl and Gladys, with anxious eyes, are looking out, too. "!lure come tine fishing party !" Gipsy cries, at last, as Colonel Bryan and Mr. Ker turn in at the little gate, laden with rods and fishing bas- kets. Then oho adds: "0h, I wish Mau- rice lutd not gone In tbat horrid btwtt i" They all troop out to the door, Slhyl'e boy running out first, ehoutlug anti laughing, auxleus to examine the fisting baskets. "Maurice if; not back yet," Gipsy an- nounees, looking with troubled eyes over the ruffled, angry expanse of sae. sir Maurice went off on a seal - shooting expedition early tits morn- ing, in a small sailing txatt. It was a lovely day then ; but for the last few teams the Storm ling been getting up. Colonel Bryan pauses in his occu- pation of counting tate trout in his basket. "Maurice not back—and there Is quite a gale blowing ! C'onte along, Ker, We will go down to the shore and have a look for him." "I will go, too," Gipsy says, with a feeling of uneasiness at her heart, "I wish 1 had gone with hint this morning." But from the shore nothing can be seen but the white crests of the! waves that seem growing bigger every moment and break in showers of foam over the rugged rocks. In vain they strain thelr eyes over the waste of waters; there is no Nall, no boat anywhere, and the rain beats ht titelr faces and a great darkness creeps over the sea. Tho wind seems increasing every moment. l;olonel Bryan and Mr. leer exchange anxious glances, and look out toward the waves again. "lie will be in Bane," tbey gay cheerfully, and persuade Gipsy to oome up to the house again. t Presently Sibyl has a roaring fire lighted, for Maurice will be cold and wet ; and the tight glance cheerily and bright from the peat loge. But twilight Dille heavy and gray, and he lute Int come home. Everyone tries not to appear anxious or to look frightennl; but Gipsy grows whiter and whiter tut every gust of wind. Dinner goes out almost untouohes1 ; le, one to -night nppeare to have any appetite fie the savory mountain trout or the fat gronea "We stn have supper when Maurine comes," Sibyl says, ttnd orders every- titii g to Ire kept hot ; but Iter voice hue a tremor in It, and none of them like to look at Gipey. 'Can wo do nothing ?" whispers I.1•nlvs to Mr. Ker ; and his hand chews over hers. "It is so 'terrible to sit watching hrr"—glancing over at tipsy, who keeps her fano pressed to the glass, larking out, "It Is so dark, 1 stn hardly see," she says once, and relapses Into silence. , C'oetnel Bryan and Mr. Ker go down to the shore again, and silence reigns in tate little room—a silence broken only by sleepy remarks from Sibyl's little ton, who cannot understand vrhy everyone Isom ?lull to -night. "Orme to bed, dear," Sibyl says, "and I will hear you Fray your prayers,,, Ills room IN next door, and the, child'e voice saying his evening hymn le plainly audible. "Pray heaven bless Uncle Maurice and bring tum Hato home to -night'!" the yield adds, of his own accord. "Amen 1" whispers Gilley, with a sadden, shivering dread of what might happen. "Gladys, I cannot sit here, thinking, thinking. I am go - Ing down to the shore again, per - Mies he has condo In by thine," "I will go with you. Walt, donr, far some wraps," Gladys answers, looking very pale and frightened. Wrapped up In elder's, they go down to where the waves are rush - leg and tumbling 1n upon the shore. Mr. Ker joins thein with an next. ous face. "Deur Lady Dermot, do' go In out of this rant and storm. Your hurt bund roust have ret in somewhere for shelter; Ito could not possibly laud here. There IR a little creek or buy about two mites up the const; tiro fishermen tinutk he has mea likely golt in there. Colonel Brya has started oil to see, and 1 was coming to Yell you." (tipsy turns away, speechless with a terror tlutt she can not, dare not, put into words. " Heaven give him back to me I" Abe prays, elmost ineoherently,turn- iug Iter white face toward the sen. " Como I" whispers Gladys, with tears 611 her vole'. "We can only en telt and pray. Como!" And the pule dawn of early morn - tug shows the white, weary face of the watcher, watch:rig still. The early sunshine falls on a green troubled sea, and settees on the, white wings of the seabirds, it ttd it' world Is fresh and lovely after the storm of yesterday. Sir Maurice has Hot come home. A11 the long night his wife has watch- ed, and loped, and prayed, and her etrniteel, tired eyes are looking out still. With piteous mouth firmly closed, she site and gazes at the slivery dawn spreading over the est. She thinks of yesterday morn - Ing, when she went down to the beach to see Itim off, and he loosed her so fondly, and smiled n fare• well ne his boat went sailing out toward the west. "Oh, that I had gone with hien 1" she thinks, passionately. "Wo would torte died together." (To be Continued.) rN��t"...14"*.44"%4 6 MRS. BLAKE ON WOMAN'S SiLENCE 3 it\klViAde.lNeVa Ni . Lillie Devereux Blake bas seen a great light. T1111 brilliant lady has discovered something absolutely, new about her rex. 11 uppuars that Mis. Blake is indignant because a number of promi- nent men ?tato been Invited to ad- itreve the comlttg meeting of the New York city Ftderatloe lit Womea's Clube. Men are talking too much," Buys Mrs. Blake, "and we are be- coming the silent sex. They are for- ever talking In pulpits, on plat- forms and la legislative assembles. It Is not necessary, that we should provide further opportunities for them.' "The silent sex !" Ye gods! Personally I have the greatest poseiblo respect for Mrs. Lillie De- vereux Blake. Site is decidedly the Imndeomest and smartest of tate fa - moue suffragistq and she always weary the molt becoming boanects. She is clever, too, makes a splen- did epeeelt and everlastingly lam- basts the tyrant mut, After slt•t hue grilled and roasted him with her white beat rhetoric there is only a little ash heap left of him. It's Jest lovely. On the slays when Mrs. Lillie De- vereux Blake addresses Soviets met remain Indoors. Or, if forced by preseure of business to faro forth, they go softly and trenibl ugly. That know not at what moment an army of women, .maddened by their wrongs, may tleeceed upon them, led by their valorous and intrepid Mrs. Blake. --- 1 think there is nu member of ''the silent sex" who can demonstrate so satisfactorily by logic and reason the absolute nunneceesity of the Creator Including men in his scheme of creation a; Mrs. Lillie Devereux Blake. But in this statement either hire Blake lay blundered or has made a dlecovery which will materially change nil of our mortal and economic conditions. dGoo noTow recall that any hu- man bas before looked upon women as "tlte silent sex." As a matter of fact the tongue of woman has nl- wayH been considered, next to beauty. iter greatest ally and wea- pon. Way a man ever ducked for being "a common scold"? No doubt many itavo deserved the fate, but ecoW- ing has always been associated wltb "the anent sex." Ili men attend sewing circles? I believe not. Doubtless the oppressive silence of these gatherings would be broken 1f chattering enc -"Bal(' be permitted to enter. 1)0 men go to pink teas? is few pos- sibly who have nether; rem to do or aro cI,tI'cn there by their wives. in But the great majority .. el/Intend m ja shun three functions as they do church. It le tits "silent sex" who aro the pillars) of the imolai lost!. totlon, mildly describe! by someone as "gobble, guzzle, gabble and git." Is there talking at a man's clulr? As a ruin clubmen are exclusively silent. Thera are club's so ultrapa- triclau that the members never re- cognize each other in the Clubhouse. A clttbntatr goes to hie club for rest, relaxation, 'to read, 'woke and to oat and drink. But the clubs of "tlto silent sex!" Do you remember the Irishman's de- scription of Donnybrook fain? "Alt, Money, yez sltould be over in the ould eoutttlttxie aa' have a taste df Donnybrook fair. Shore, that's the place for coorting an' tigirtln' an' scrappin' an' heal breakin' an' get - tin' comfortably drunk." Far bo from me to Insinuate that the latter clattse of the description applies to women's clubs, but some way the rose of It appeals to me as an apt ilhtetratton of the club meet- ings of the "silent sex." Talk! Why talk at a woman's club comes clown like the toile of Lahore. There are not enough adjective. In the English language to describe properly ten torrent of sound. It le not ono woman who talks. It Is a million. It le the "silent sex." Go In any surface car or elevated train or sten mer anywhere on the face of the globe. What do you see? Sten absorbed in their newspapers, reading ns if their lives depended on It. What do you hear ? The shrill, sweet pebble of passamentcrde and pompons: the vivid word picture of "How I siert have mine tondo'?" the 11 Iii tug' 01 family secrets ; the eter- nal feminine chatter. At the opening night of a new play this spring, when the walls be- tween the nets were long, I sat and listened to the conversation behind me of three attractive, beautifully - gowned women. Each escorted by n well-groomed, well-dressed man. The husbands, or brothers, or whatever they were, sold never s. word, The women—merciful he/Irene t Well, 1f the Town Tattler shoved darn i:o publish the scandal nee talk dls- cussed by those three women at the top of their lunge the patter would be raided. Names of families, of In- dividuate prominent socially, were bandied about In the most free and shocking manner. Divorces and their causes were discussed to the most blatant fashions. It wad aomethlng frightful. When men talk scandal, es Ihave heard they sometimes do. It is usually behind rinsed doors and out of the corner of their mouths, It is " the silent sex" that loves to go upon the housetops and yell it to the passers- by. Men talk too much," says Mrs. Blake. Well, perhaps they do, in a way. I think myself parsons might shorten their sertnons, rafter -dinner epeakers might omit some of their tortious drlvri, irgislntors might cease talking agninet time, Put taking all in all, evening matters up all around, I reckon "the silent sex" gets Its work to too. I nm sorry to see that Mrs. Blake objects to men addressing the Fed- eration of (Tule. There are a few men In this country from whom even the accomplished and astute chile woman might learn something. More. over, It 1s through these 'same de- spised men that the enfranchisement of women must come. No use of con- stantly antagonizing men. If you desire to walk through a field to which 'e bull is grazing it is foolish to brandish a scarlet parasol at Illm and say, "Get out, you nasty brute." It Is more Judicious to hot- ter the animal and murmur, " Go away now, there's a nice buil" Edith Semitone Tupper. An Intitttibir Sign. Philadelphia, Pre'e. Tess ---Gracious ! I must be getting awful old and homely. Jess—Yes r Tess—Yes. four girls I know who aro going to be married have asked me to be their brideems! Was Cured of Piles Seven Years Ago A Chronic Case of Twenty Years' Standing Cured Permanently by DR. CHASE'S OINTMENT Piles or hemorrhoids are ' amoii the most common as well Re the most torturing nitments Hutt affll•'t humanity. The keen distress caused by the itching, especially when the holy gets warm, is almost beyond the powers of description. The very mention of files euggeetd 1)1.. Chase's Ointment, ns it 1s be- yond denial the only actual euro for this loathsome disenxo. It you ask your doctor, your druggist lir your friends what to use for Plies they will In nine cases out of ten adds, Dr. Chase's Ointment. Mr. Alex, McLaughlin, for thirty years a resident of Bowtnanv'tl!e,! Ont., writes: "For twenty long years I sutferiel from Itching piles, and only persons who have been troubled with that nanoying disease can Imagine what I endured during that time. About seven years ago I asked a druggist if he had anything to cure me, Ho said that Dr. Chase's Ointment was; most favorable, spoken of, and on his recommeudetiou I took 0 box. titer three al,pltcatione I felt 1ntter, and by trio tint,• I had used one hos I wcte in a fair way to ream - cry. I continued the treatment until thoroughly cured, and I have not sut(cred any slice Ina firmly con- tiuctxi that the ointment made LI perfect cure. " I consider Dr. C'hase's (Stateliest an Invaluable treatment for sties. In toy case I think the cure wag rc tntukable when you consider that I naw getting otp In years and had been so Long a sufferer lieu this disease.' ,Dr. C'hase's Ointment is the one at,00lute and guaranteed cure for every form of plies. It has a record t.f cures unparalleled in the history of medicine. Sixty cents a box, at alt dealers, or Edmgnson, Bates & Co., Toronto. To protect you against Imitations the portrait and signa- ture of Dr. 1, R'. Chase, the famous receipt book author, are on evore box.. , '• . ,