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The Wingham Advance, 1907-11-21, Page 6WHEN HE GiveTH QUIETNESS. ((1hristian Guardian.) It was past midnight in the crowd- ed city hospital, and ever its unrest- ing, sleepless life had or ainoment settled down into something like re- pose, Here and there could be heard the deep breathing of those to whom pain and wearinees had had a mer- ciful, if brief, surcease, while an oc- casional deep groan or querulous complaint indicated that others were being denied that one blest blessing of the weary and the aick. Passing to and fro through ward and corridor the nurses attended to their tasks, qnietly, patiently, deftly, and it wore not difficult to imagine, there in the dead of the night, that their ministry was truly an angelie one, or that He who knew man's weariness and pain -had- scour with comfort and with healing in His hand._ In a room apart lay our patient, wearyyet restless and open-eyed. For a week night had followed day, and had wearily crept into day again, and still sleep had not come, save the fitful fleeting sleep of the opiate. As he lay tossing to and fro., in utter weariness, he turned his face, as he had so often clone, toward the quiet calmness of the summer night that lay asleep outside his window. And looking at the flecks of moonlight as they drifted through the leafy branch- eof the great trees, and beyond to where God's stars glistened in the sky, the thought came to him, "Why not pray that sleep may come?" Per- haps it was strange that that thought had not come before.. As a. true be- liever he had been able to lay his case of life and for death in the hands of his God, and had found grace to leave it there unwaveringly. But sontehow he had felt' that the weari. ness and the pain were for himself to bear, and he had tried to bear them unfalteringly and with what show cit courage he could muster. But now the impression was strong upon him that he should try to lay even that burden off for a moment upon the great Burden -Bearer. And so he prayed. He told hia Father that he loved Him, and was willing to endure what He might lay upon him, but he was Urea, fin so tired. He asked that Gea come to him and gather his hi His arms as a mother would her child, and soothe and lull his tired soul to sleep; that somehow Ms little stnrest- 'ng spirit might be for a littlagather- Spirit t which ed up into the great Etern and know the peace and r pa,sseth understanding. And then as he lay, a happened—a thing that day he will not for will never appear t else than a mir of the God wh Almost in a fallinc of 13 auge thing o his dying , a thing that im as anything e from the hand worketh all things. gible form, like the mmer shower upon the -"Stiff-Web field, sleep came c own upon him. Half an hour later he wakened, just long enough to realize how good it was, and then he slept again. And so, throughout the re- maining hours of the night, and when in the morning he awaked fully to the realities of another day it was with a great peace in his soul and a feel- ing that in very reality he had slept with God. And from that experience two things abide with our patient of that summer night—things that cannot be shaltnn by all the philosophies that the mind of man ever elaborated. First, there is a faith in the love of God as a love that is tenderer and kinder than any that man has ever known; and second, there is an 'en. uring faitli e sow in the great scheme of things there i 'ce for prayer. How this can be it is not any clearer to him than it was.; but that, it is, is now and forever one of the axioms of his faith. Science may. talk about the unbroken reign of law, and the philosophies inay heap up the difficulties mountains high, -buS he can smile at these, for he has been with God, he has learned the secret of the eternal, he knows. And it was worth all the suffering and the weari. ness to get this. TOO LITTLE ALONE WITH GOD. We are far too little alone with Goa, _sad this, I am persuaded, is one of the saddest features in our modern, Chris- tian living. It is work, work, work — at the very best, some well -meant, Mar- tha -like serving; but where, where are the more devoted Marys, who find the shortest, surest way to the heart of Jesus by ceasing, very much from self- willed self-appointed toils and sitting humbly at His feet to let Him carry on His blessed work within ourselves? If the Mary -like method were carried out more it might abridge considerably the _amount of work apparently Room - pliant -Cs -bet it wcauld incomparably en- hance the quality. What though we should lose a hundredweight and get instead of it only a pound —if the hun- dredweight lost were only lead, and the pound gotten were pure gold? God is not looking for great men, He can use small men. Out of the mouth of babes and. sucklings He ordains strength. He ie, not looking for many men; He can get along with a few. Ile once said that there were too many, but He never said that there were too few, But He does want men; He has taken man into partnership in His work. and does not seem disposed to work without him. When judgment is to be averted from Jerusalem. He tells the prophet: "Run ye to and fro through the street% of Jerusalem, and see now, and know, and seek in the broad places thereof if ye can find a man, if there be any that exeeuteth judgment, that seeketh the truth; and I will pardon it," PRAYER. Holy and most merciful God, Thou in days of cid didst lead Thy people through the great and trackless wilder- ness and tildst -bring them to the land of their desire, We would commit us to Thy care and guidance for this our earthly pilgrimage. What angers, wbat temptations, synat trials of our faith may lie before us in the 'coming days we eannot tell. But this we pray, 0 God, that Thou wouldet so enenmpass us, so strengthen end enlighten tia with Thy continual presence, that in nil dr- eumstances we may be prepared, so that WO may do valiantly and overcome every obstacle and vanquish every foe. Let not the approach of death dismay' ns, Ind over this enemy Mee may God "nave us the vietory through our LordJesue Christ. Amen. N irnbiel'ongued Woman. Illen have reason to dread nhnble- tongued women. A eertain clever authot. tnts Walt once asked by a writer of the op - posits. sex who is not remarkable for minty: "Wouldn't you like to be it man To this the lady readily replied: "Wouldn't you ?"—Tit -Bite, IZIOZIZIEZIMYSIMICEMZIMEMEMIT The True and The False kZ414NNIOSNNICXXXXXXXXXXXXXX CHAPTER XIX. • "I am pleased that you have brought this sweet little girl home with you, Augusta," said Daniel Hunter, as be re- veivea his wife. adopted daughter, and, lastly, little Alaud—taking the latter tenderly by the hand, and leading her in- to the sitting -room. Lie drew her be- tween his knees, and untied her hood, and. laid it off, while Mrs. Hunter and Miss Honoria went upstairs to take off their bonnets. The tea table was prepar- ed in the room, and Air. and Mrs.,Lovel were present, and spoke kindly to the little visitor. "A compenion for lionoria, I suppose," said airs..Lovel, while Mr. Level bent his serious blue eyes earnestly upon the child. "Yea, I suppose so. I bope so," replied Mr, Hunter. "Mrs. Hunter has brought you to spend some time with us, my dear •—luts she not?" "The My brought me to stay a week. sir," replied the child, who, instinctively meeting his tenderness, nestled closely In the enibrace of her unknown father. The outrance of Airs. Hunter and Miss Honoria gave a new impetus to the conversation. Mrs. Hunter partially explained the motive of her bringing the little girl over to the hall. And Miss Honoria rang for tea, which was soon brought in. The next morning Daniel Hunter rode over to the north side of the mountain, to see a quarry, from.which Ms laborers were digging stone, to build the new school house. Mrs. Love l and Miss Honoria, attended by Mr. Lovel, drove up to the Summit, to make some purchases and to bring the letters from the post -office. Mrs. Hunter commissioned them also to buy come ginghams, Swiss muslin, lace, rib- bon, and a little Leghorn hat, but she did not say for whom these things were intended. When all had departed, the lady and the child were left alone in the sitting- rcom. Maud was seated on a little cush- ion, examining a book of prints that had been put in her hands. Airs. Hunter sat in her large lounging chair, contemplat- ing the little girl in eilence. Presently the lady left the chair, and went and sat down upon a low ottoman, and called the child to her side, and -tenderly en- eitcled her with one arm, and softly smoothed back the burnished auburn curls from her fair brow, and earnestly. gazed deeply down into her beautiful countenance. Tit* child's eyes were reised in uushrinking. perfect trust to hers, Ant1 anyone might have taken them for mother and child. Different as their complexions were, there was the same queenly turn of head and nee; the same graceful, gracious, noble air and expression. For a moment only the lady gazeil thus, apd then be bowed her regal hutd until all the long black ringlets swept around the child's bright hair, and pressed au earnest, lingering kiss upon her brow. Then lifting her head again, she began in low, soft tones to ask. her about her parents—whether she remem- bered them—whether she loved ,them. And Aland, leaning trustingly against her nnknown mother'e bosom. told her all she had heard of what she suppesed to be her real story, and how her mother end father were emigrants, on their way to this country, when a contagious fever broke out in the ship, and how they died of it, just as they were coining into S—; and how, as the city author- ities would not let them land dead bodies who had died of the fever, her father and mother 'tact been buried in the S— The lady's eyes were streaming with tears. "Why do you weep, dear lady? Not for them—they have been in heaven this many a year." ":',Vly child! my child! I, too, have lost a treasure in the sea --a treasure, Sylvia, that will lie there till the day when the Lord shall command the sea to deliver U1) its dead!" "Was it your father and mother, dear Indy?" "No, Sylvia ----yen, my dear father was lost in a storm on the Chesepeake Bay. was with him, and was saved by Mr. Hunter. I mourned for my father many years, but I got over it at last. That was not what I lucent. The sea has been very fatal to me! Oh, my baby! my sweet] my beautiful I my loving Maud!" exclaimed. Auguste, dropping her head upon the child's shoulder'and sob- bing as she had not sobbed for ten years, The little girl wound her arms around her neck, lard her cheek to hers, kissed off the tears as fast as they fell, caressed her tenderly, familiarly, yet so strange- ly! "Such a beautiful child she was, Syl- via! Such a sweet, heavenly child! Such an angel! And she was drowned! she was drowned! Suffocated in the cruel waves, with iione to save her—while I— I, who ought to have been watching her —I was idling on the deek! My child! My beautiful, sweet, loving child!" All the wounds of her heart seemed torn open, and bleeding afresh—her grief seemed positively its keen as upon the first day of her bereavement. tra.nd the little girl sought to comfort ho She tried to comfort her—earnestly, because he" sympathy was so sincere— silently, bemuse she knew not what to say—clasping and kissing her neek— pressing her face to her cheek—kissing away the flowing tears, and, finally, dropping her head upon her bosom, ani weeping, betamie she could not prevent her from weeping. At last the lady's passionate fit of sorrow spent itself and she raised her head and wiped away the last traces of her tears, and, kissing the child, she said: "Little comforter, I have not Wept SO much for meny years. and there are none that I mold have borne to see me weep as 1 have you. "Little comforter, I have shown you the very weakness of my—heart, as I \email not show it to any other; and while I luild yon in my arms, and press peace and rest and you to my bosom, a eontentment come to be as perfect as it 15 ineomprehensible; but I am afraid that while you comfort me, I sadden you: that must not be! Come, love, go with me, and I will show you iny dear • eltild's portrait and all her little th lugs." And Alm Minter arose and took the ehild's Irma and led her upstairs—first into a large, handsomely furnished bed- room, where she said, in passing, 'Ilde is my (+amber, Sylvia," and thence inbo. a small, well -lighted, beautifully Wang.' ed room, famished with it thila's pro- ports,. "Come in, love, No one enters tide room but myself; they cannot bear to tlo it, they say. Ilere are all little Maud's things. That is her portrait. They can- not bear to look at it, or even at any-• thing that belonged to her, because they loved her so much, and grieve for her so mach, People most be very different —for I loved her more than anyone elee did --1 mourn her more than anyone else does. I have never ceased to love nad grieve for her. Yet it is here, among memorials of her, that I come for corn - for t—that I come to pray. Look at her little girl! Is she not lovely?" said Mrs. Hunter, leading Maud up in front of the table, and directing her gaze to the portrait above it. It was a charming, picture, a -picture of the mother and the child. But the mother was purposely thrown into the background, and into shadow by her dark ringlets, dark complexion, and dark drapery, and her attitude in holding the child. 'Maud gazed at her own unknown portrait with the strangest sensations; and as she looked into the bright depths of the pictured eyes, until they seemed to be living, conscious eyes, returning, her gaze and laughing at her, a smile stole over her features. "Why do you smile, Sylvia?" "Ldon't know, lady; only it makes me feel so strangely to look into her eyes, and to feel her looking back; 'her eyes look as if they knew some secret that:1 don't, and were laughing at me about it —arid it seems to me as if I had seen her before, somewhere—in a dream—I don't know where—and somehow it does not seem to me as if "Why do you stop, my dear?" "I was running on so foolishly., lady." "What were you going to say, love?" "I was going to say—but it was so foolish—I was going to say I did not think she could have Leen drowned." The lady trembled all over—she took the child's hand and led her to a chair, and sat down and encircled her with one arm, arid dropped her forehead on her hand, and remained so several minutes; at last, without raising her bead, she asked, in a low voice: "What made you think so; child?" "I do not knom whether it was the picture or not, lady—but as I looked at it 1 did think your little child must be still alive!" CHAPTER XX. Ellen, in her little parlor, sat and wept. An open letter was in her hand; it was from Father Goodrich'in answer to hers asking his counsel as to whether she should aecept Daniel Hunter's pro- posal to put her sort to school. Father Goodrich dirented her to accept the offer in the same spirit of kindness in which it was given. "Would you," he wrote, "prevent a man from making re- paration for his sin—were it even a sin? How much less should you hinder him - 110111 repairing what was his own, as well as your. calamity?" And further down the letter, he wrote: "But why do you keep the secret of his father's fate concealed from Falconer? IIe is now fifteen years cid; tell him how his fa- ther died, and why; tell him at once; if you. do not, some one else will, in a less tender and truthful version." That was the reason why Ellen wept, that she must turn back for Falconer this dark page in their life's history. Alaud,full of happy reveries, had gone to bed. The colored people were nodding over their evening work in the kitchen. Falconer, who had gone to the Summit that afternoon'had not yet returned. Ellen was waiting for him—resolved to take that opportunity of quietness and solitude to tell Min of the mournful past. 11 was early yet, not eight o'clock, and she heard the quick tramp of the boy's feet as he paine running and bounding up the rocky ascent to the cot- tage—he threw the door open, and tn- tered with a face radiant with youth and health and joy. "It was BO pleasant, mother, to see the light of the little cottage window, streaming across the water as I came along. Did you expect me sooner, mo- ther? I should have been here half as; hour ago, only I met Mr. Hunter at the Summit, and he engaged Inc in a talk, all about my wanting to be a sculptor, you know! And, mother, he did not talk as you and Aunt Abilag do about a! He didn't call it foolishness, but he talked wisely; he said it was a passion and it talent given me by the Creator for good purposes, that I must be faith- ful to it, and—and—he gave me these," said the boy, throwing a packet of books on the table. "Why don't you ask me what they are. mother? What makes you so unsympathising?" "I am not unsympathising. I am glad to see you so happy. What is it, then?" 'Cunningham's Lives of the Painters and Sculptors,' mother . And Mr. Hunter told me to pay close attention to the early struggles and perseverance of all successful artists." And Falconer put away his hat ited gloves, and sat down and began to untie his books. "Put them away'now. I have some- thing to say to you, my dear Falconer." The seriousns ss of her tone struck him; he looked nes and for the first time no- ticed the deep 'mournfulness of her coun- tenance—it impressed him so painfully that he jmnped up and put away his books, and was at her side in a moment). full of affectionate attention. "My dear, dearest mother! Youare in trouble, and I have been rattling on DO. What is it? Is it the grocery bill?" "No, 'Falconer." "What, then—the taxes?" "No, no—it is nothing like that—" then, after a pause—"Falconer, did you never wonder about and want to hear the history of your father?" In a moment the boy's face was as grave, as solemn, as her own. "Say, Falconer, do you never think about him?" "'Mother, es far back as I can remem- ber, 1 recollect missing him—and being ill—and losing you for it time—and having yon back again, but all that is like a very long past, confused dream. Ana much more distinctly than that do remember Aunt Abishag telling me I must never ask about my father, ena never eel much as name him before any- body, much less before you. She hes continued to tell me so all my life, but she never would tell me why. Now, dearest mother, open your heart to bell inc me all about R. Is he living? Did he go sway and lose you? Open your heart to me, dear mother. I will be 80 prudent. Say, did lie deeeive and leave you2" • "No—no, boys:von blftepheine! Ire was it saint, an angnl, wee year father—the greatest blessing and gleay of my life, but he'Ves fetcrifiekl; Paledneri k&viratt aavrifleed-ado you undmatand me?" Faleener did not, 111, fixed his large eye:" searchingly upon /113 mother's couna tenante, but email not make out her. meit Mug,. "aamiliced:" he repeated, vaguely., "Ile—your f noeentaaestina able----exeelient—he died on the scaffold for another's ' '1 he boy leninded like a wounded pan- ther. 'Alen dropped her head upon her hands, eobbiug convulsively, and so pass- ed several miuutes, until from the oppo- site side of the room came a slow, heavy step, ana a. husky voice, saying: "Mother: tell me the whole story." Mien repressed her sobs, calmed her- self, and mournfully prepared to relate the • dark and dreadful tragedy. Valeoner threw himself upon the floor at her feet, dropped his hot and throb- bing head upon ber lap, and prepared to listen, gam told the story of her husband's arrest, trial and conviction, upon mr- cumetantial evidence, Falconer listened in stern silence, un- til this part of the tale was finished, when he broke forth, bitterly: • "And these are the laws of a model re- public. So impeded as to immolate the innocent and let the guilty escape!" Ellep next spoke of her journey to A ----to intercede with the gevernor for her husband's reprieve. Here Falconer listened with the keen- est attention. Ellen spoke of the great interest everywhere testified by the peo- ple in William O'Leary's fate; 'of the powerful intercessions made in his be- half; of her OWP and his mother's in- terview with the governor; and of the total failure of every effort to obtain a reprieve; and she dwelt with unconscious injustice upon the conduct of. Daniel Hunter. And again Falconer broke forth in passionate indignation: "And this is the man—the demigod, who has the whole nation at hi ,s feet. Oh I am but a unit in many millions—I ans but a boy --but here I consecrate myself with all my faculties of mind And body to the vindication of my father; to the overthrow of this people's idol; and perhaps—perhaps to the remodeling of this imperfect law!" He exclaimed ana gesticulated like a rash, presumptous, vehement, passionate boy as he was—yet, nevertheless, his sudden indignation and hatred were not the less strong, earnest, profound am] enduring. His gentle mother was distressed—not that she imagined her poor boy could ever, even if he lived long enough, ac- complish any of the Quixotic vengeance threatened upon the world-renowned statesman; but she was alarmed 1' her son's immediate interests; she feared that ,Falconer would sporn all the offers of Daniel Hunter to assist and advance him. She dared not now even mention Mr. Hunter's wish 'to place her boy at college—she only ventured to suggest that in refusing to grant .a reprieve to O'Leary, Daniel Hunter had acted from a high sense of duty—and that since their bereavement he had been very kind to the family—a suggestion that was met by the excited youth with such a torrent—such a storm of impetuous, im- passioned denunciation and invective, as terrified the weak mother into silence. In striding discractedly about the floor, Falconer's eyes fell upon the paeket of books given him that afternoon by Mr. Hunter—his eyes flashed forth again— he seized the 'parcel exclaiming: "To degrade me by an obligation like this. To degrade me. Shall'l throw them into the fire, or send them back to him." He held them poised in his hand a few moments and then cast them upon the tnble, saying, "I will send themback to him." And then, exhausted by the ve- hemence and impetuosity of his passion. the boy flung himself down upon a stool, and buried his face in his open palms and sat silent and motionless until El- len lighted thc. candle and placed it in his bawls and bade Min: "Codd -night." Then he arose, and pet his arms around his mother's neek and kissed her and silently went to his room. And El- len retired to hos, where, sleeping the sweet sleep of peace and innocence, lay Maud. * * 3 * * The next morning early, as Ellen, Maud and Falconer were seated at the breakfast table, there was heard n rap at the door. Ellen said: "Come in." And the latch Ives lifter, and John the messenger from Howlet Hall, en- tered, bowing. Falconer started violently, grew red in the fact and looked threateningly at the messenger. But John passed him respectfully, laid Mr. Hunter's note before Mrs. O'Leary, bowed, and stood, hat in hand, waiting. Ellen took up and read the note with a softening countenance. It requested her decision upon the question of sending Falconer to college and an immediate answer. She finished it and handed it over to her son, saying: "There—you see whht Mr. Hunter is ensions to clo for you. and the assistance end patronage of a man like Daniel Hume ter will make your fortune.," Falconer received the note, and with lowering brow and curling lips glanced over its contents. Then springing up. lie tiirned to the messenger and fiercely ex- claimed: "Go and tell your master that my ans- wer is this!" He emit the note beneath his feet, and set his aeel upon it, and ground it to the floor. The man stared in astonishment; El- len heard in grief and trepidation and little Mitud in wonder and sorrow. "Yes!" continued Falconer, "go tell Mr, Molter that last night. for the first time. I was made acquainted with all my family's wrongs. Last night. I learn- ed for the first time, that through his obduracy alone my guiltless father died a felon's death—lies in it felori's grave and his poor old mother lingers out ber wretched days in a mad-bouse. Nor are my mother's nor my own wrongs for- gotten—not the least of which is, thnt he tries to force vipon its obligittioes which, coming from him, would degrade: us. Tell him that I rim his bitter, im- placable enemy. Tell him that I live to vindicate, to avenge my family. He may laugh al. that, for he is it great politician—I--a poor boy. Let him larigh now; the time will come when he 'rill not laugh 1---- for let lihn remember, that while he is growing old and weak, I am growing strong, and let him be - A11 "vere silent exeept Mau& who in it complete thaw; of sorrow and amaze - limit, stole from her sent to her brother's, Aide and clasping him in terror, said: "Oli, no. no—don't eend that menage. —don't. Whet do yon mean," Faleoner put his hand round bey Mid drew her head muter his arm eeressing- ly, proteetingly. but did not otherwise answer her, or even look at her, or for 1411 instant sheeth lii flashhig p,laner. that was still turned toward Daniel Minter's inessengef. And Maud stole her mina Int round Ilia neck end pressed her head him and entreated: (To be continued.) Giving the Ileual Society .Taller—There'a a reporter entail° wants to - interview you. Noted prisoner—Tell him I'm not In. 4,11.1ma V-.11,-.3:nageoe SHILOH'Stchozitai CURE Get a bottle to -day from your druggist. If it doesn't cure you QUICKER than anything you ever tried he'll giv7787;our money back Shiloh's is the best, safest, surest and quickest medicine for your childrerfe coughs and colds, It has been curing coughs and colds for 34 years. All druggists— asc., soca and Sao° a bottle. -- Our Clock. When our clock strikes I always dread To look, for fear Rai time for bed. 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Salt Rheum, Sores, Piles, Constipaticin, Indigestion and other results of impure blood. They cone the cause and destroy the evil candid*: n. Mira Ondaneni swages and heals all diseased aim, Afira Mood Tonic and Mira Tablets dame flubbed and invigorate sioneach, liver, kidneys awl terwelt, Ointment and Tablets. each 50c, Blood Tonics. $1. At drug -ores— or froin The Chemists' Co. of Canada. Limited. Hamikor Toroato. . His Business. A Boston lawyer, who brought his svSt from his native Dublin, while cross- examining the plaintiff in a divorce trill, brought forth the following: "You wish to divorce this womait be- cause she drinks?" 4"Diceoyous'sidrink -yourself?" "That's my business!" (angrily.) Whereupon the unmoved lawyer asked: "Have you any other business?" 'MNurses' and others' Treasure —safest regulator for baby. Prevents colic and vomiting—gives healthful rest --cures diarrhoea without the harinful effects at medicines containing opium ,or other injurious drugs. ' 41 Cures 26c. ---at drug -storm National Drug & (Them- DiarrhoealealCo.'Tentited Montreal, SUCH 1$ FAME, Primadonna—When I become fa- mous, the reportere will all be looking for the town in which I was born. Father—Yes, and every town will try to blame it on the other. 11.1111•1b.M.011111....I. $15.50 IN the less expensive Brooches . Diamond Hall has never shown such excellent value as the one illustrated. above at 0.50. THE mount h made of heavy 14k. gold and the pearls are of the finest quality. THE crescent is 134 inches long and finished in the bright gilt. Gann for our Catalogue. RynIE Enos.. Liraited 134.138 rouge St. TOII.ONTO leraidatoratalam===,..—...===abgatrania, A Hero -Worshipper. There is teatimony to Sir Walter Seett'a popularay with all claws in the "Burford Papers," a chroniele of former days and doings in England and Scot - hp 1831 Scott was invited to a break- fast at an Edinburgh house. He wile SO pleased with the Yarmouth bloaters that were served piping hot, that one of the feminine guests went to the market the next day to order some for him, to be sent to Sussex Place, where he was stay- ing. "I don't send so far," said the fish- monger. "I am aorry," said the lady. "The or- der was for Sir Walter Scott." The rotigh fishmonger started back, then pushed forward to the lady through his piles of fish. "For Sir Walter Scott, did you say, madam? Sir Walter Scott? Bless my soul, he shall have them directly if I have to carry them myself! Sir Walter Scott! They shall be with him to -night," then, pausing, "No, not to -night; for to- morrow morning a fresh cargo comes in, and he shall have them for his break- fast. Sir Walter Scottl"—Youth's Com- panion. 401110 ffl Make a Frame House Look. Like Stehle By far the most durable, most tightly etteide finish for any house—makes it warmer winters cooler summers—weather-proofsit—helps mak* it fire -proof too—that's PEDLATi. ART STLE,IL. SIDING Hundreds of patterns, to suit an idea you have, — Perfect imitation of brick, cut stone, roues stone, etc. Cost less than you'd think for such vakfo. Send for the book about modem metal finish, for all kinds of structures. It FREE. .Address 313 The 'PEDLAR People ILI Oshawa Montreal OttatvA Toronto Lon Ion Winnipeg. SCHOOL DAYS. Teacher—What is steam'? johnny—Steam is cold water gone crazy wid de heat. Minard's Liniment Cures Garget in Cows. • - • The Cuddley Kind, Some like the girl that rides and shoots, the girl with lots of fire; The mannish girl who shrilly hoots at furbelowed attire; But I'm old fashioned, Pm afraid, and quite the times behind. I'll let you have the mannish maid. Gimme the euddley kind. I'll take that girl with frills and things, and. heels unduly high; The fluffy girl that to you clings at thoughts of danger nigh. The mannish girl, no doubt, is smart and has a brilliant mind, But still she doesn't win my heart. Gim- me the cuddley kind. —Philadelphia Bulletin. BETTER THAN SPAM% Spanking does not cure children of bed- wetting. There is a constitutional cause for thin trouble. Mrs. M. Summers, BoX W. 8, Windsor, Ont., will send free to any motiver her successful home treetment, with full instructions. Send no money but write her to -day If your children trouble rou in this way. Don't blame the child, the chances are it can't help it. This treatment also cures adults and aged people troubled with urine difficulties by day or night. The Way of the Child. A small boy who had recently passed his fifth birthday was riding, in a sub- urban car with his mother when they were asked the customary question, "How old is the boy?" After being told the correct age, which did not require a fare, the conductor passed on to the next person. s The boy sat quite still as if pondering over some question, and then, emelt"- ing that full information had not Wain' given, called loudly to the conluotor, then at the other end of the ear: "And mother's thirty-one!" • • •- 1.4 Mange, Prairie &watches and every Ora Cti contagious Itch on human or animals Mired In 20 minutes by Wouord's Sanitary Lotion. It never fails. Sold by druggists. 4 - • A Gifted Crab. The crab known as the scale-telled apus was believed to have become ex- tinct in Great Britain fifty years ago, the last recorded spoimen being taken lin the ponds on Hampstead Heath. But now it has turnea up again in some num- ' hers in two ponds ort Preston Morse, near , Southwick, in Kirkcudbrightshire. About two and a half inches long, the apus bears a striking likeness to that remark- able creature, the king arab, and this be - mimeo the for part of the body is cov- ered by it great semicircular ehield or carapace, while, as in the king arab, ,11 mime on its back. In the great num- ber of its legs, the scale -tailed Emus has 1few rivals, while in the number of the joints whith these share between them no other creature can compare. The :naturalist Shaffer once estaped the task :of counting them and made the magnifi- 1 cent total of 1,802,604. Tattreille put j down the number at a round 2,000,000.— Daily Graphic, • • to firniard's Liniment Cures Distemper. • e• OBEYING MOTHER. Manager—Wouldn't you like to go ion the stool, ' Johnny—Now. I promised me madder I'd be a burglar. • • IN LUOK. The Millionaire—Yes, I never givn more than a nickel for a cigar. ; Young Stonybroke—Ah, yes, you frit% &ape Oan afford to smoke cheap 1 cigars. *** Minard's Liniment Cures Diphtheria. Two Kinds of Public Enemies, President Darwin P. Wanton at tha Nw York Lae InsUriuwe 0ol0PanY4 Ip Weekly. A dishonest trustee ehould be treated as a A. deliberate looter 06 9, rellread ought to be in the peniteatiary. The MSG WhO 11111•013 a great Industrie' comainistiou, sacl- by means et doctored stiutements unloads wa- Wee stocka on a poorly -informed publics Petting the prouverla in his own pocket, le a modern typo of highwayman, and ought to be treated es such. Ilut when conditlorul like these are abown with equal clearness, even la a .poriod of great public excitement, that they are super:140 and fugitive, when it appears that the great body of buainess te winch they are related Is sound, useful, end h 06 olo:epsotilyitioacoindieaucdteerd, wwhohatt4 ethhaell nawmee eater terra uses the situation to fashion a, Meleea idea to all the baiser paanions of the human heart 7 3,Vhat erfenee has he committee ‘Vhat shall we Nay of the orgau of .publIc opinion which deliberately misstates facie, ogreubiviesateleastulinspeineYio,ndhateio doasntroyerepwubtath:w ioniaanyd ns Ile near to the surface of human feeling and deliberately brings OR a social tempest, in order to sell fie wares 7 What shall we say of a great magazine, which, proteseing to put before the world a clispassionate review Of nre-Insurance and lito-insurence comPen- les, refuse a to ea* responsible life -insurance men. apparently from fear that the truth in possession might deprive Ito article a 001- tain sensational features 7 HANDS TERRIBLE CRACKED. Mrs. Yellen, of Portland, says: "My hands were so sore and cracked, that I could not put them near water. I seem- ed quite unable to get relief from any- thing I put on them until I tried Zam- Buk. It closed the big cracks, gave me ease and in a very short time healed my hands completely." ZanaBuk heals all skin injuries and diseases. Of all stores and druggists at 60 cents, or front Zana-Buk Co., Toronto, for price, 3 boxes for $1,25. Helium Swarming to America. Italy is losing population by emigra- tion at the rate of nearly a million—or three per cent. of the total number of her inhabitants—a year. All the prov- inces in the kingdom are represented in this exodus, but it is chiefly from the southern part of the peninsula and Siolly. The United States receives most of the emigrants—New York City alone hae an Itahan population of 450,000, larger than that of any Italian city except Naples, Rome and Milan —though many go to Argentina, ten per cent. of whose popu- lation is of Italian origin. Northern Italy, thanks to its reeent industrial develop- ment, is prosperous, but the difficulty of earning a livelihod in other parts of the country has resulted in the virtual depopulation of whole districts, many vil- ages having been drained of their able- bodied inhabitants, and large tracts of land consequently passing out of cultiva- tion.."Emigratio," as one observer puts it "has become a kind of epidemic." An, other result, which is causing alarm to the government, is the decreaaing num- ber of men available for military ser- vice. The present organization of the army callssannually for 100,000 new re- cruits for the standing army and' 25,000 for the reserves. Last year the nuniber nemsoriptions fell to 75,000. It is suggested that some of the causes ex- empting men from military service be disallowed, but such a proceeding would probably only increase the volume of emigration.—From Leslie's Weekly. I was cured of Rheumatic Gout by KINARD'S LENTMENT. Halifax, ANDREW KING. I was eured of Acute Bronchitis by KINARD'S LINIMENT. Sussex. LT. -COL. C. CREWE READ. I was eured of Acute Rheumatism bt: KINARD'S LI,NIMENT. Markham, Ont. C. S. BELLING. HE DISAFFPROVED. (Canadian Courier.) la the city of Ottawa lives a cheerful cabman of the name of Charlie Kelly, who has been on friendly terms with Sir John Macdonald, Mr. D'Alton McCar- thy and other parliamentarians of lesser degree. Charlie is a faithful son of what Mulvaney calls the "Mother Chureh, which is so regimental in her fittin's: On the occasion of the baptism of it youth- ful Kelly, the reverend father asked what name was to be given to the child. "Hugh John," was Kelly's prompt re- ply. "That's no proper name for the poor Infant Another name, Kelly!" demand- ed Father II—. "Clarke Wallace," suggested the val- orous Kelly, This NTDA too much for the worthy priest, who would as soon have bestowed the name of William of Orange on the waiting infant. He frowned darkly and eaid with sternness to the abashed par-. ent: "No levity, Kelly! No levityl" NEW YORK AN ELECTRIC CITY. "Did you ever consider," began the young man who lived very far north in Radian, "what a really electric city New York is? Take my epee. "Each morning I an: awakened by an deetrie bell, pushed five flights down by kindly janitor. That starts the day, "I hop into an electric subway train -nd get downtown as. quielcly as things octant. I buy two cigars and light them it an electric cigar lighter. "Then I march into an elevator which r; propelled upward by electricity and I /scurry into my office. If I am the first elan in I turn on an electric fan as a .natter of habit. "Maybe 1 get a call from the only girl ,m an electric telephone during the morn- ing. If the day is an imusuidone I may get a niessa,ge wired to me by electricity. "At noon I go to lunch and use the same electric elevator. I ride a few "locks on an electric surface ear, and after reaching my underground cafe I seat myself fouler it cluster of electric incandesceut lights. As it happens there Is an electric piano in my particular res- taurant which plays rsolemnly during the lunch hour, though there are times when I wish it wouldn't. "In the evening I dine hurriedly at all- ege'. place downtown, surrounded by the commonplace electric affairs that no one ever notices, and then 1 hasten 'up. town to it friend's house, where 1 make err presence known by jabbing his bell four times, Of course, it is an electric "My friend and I go somewhere, and if the money affairs are in good shape we mayride, in an electric cab before the evening wanes. I reach my own home at a late hour, and before going to my s.partment I throw on an elotric switch whieli lights the lamps in front of my mail box, "All I tuawaiting for tow is to have some ingenious amp invent something 4etter so that by Writing on a eiever electric' devio I tan hold my job without leaving hpme at all," ISSUE NO, 47, 1907 .......,.....,.....,..,..,....,..,.... LEARN DRESS -MAKING BY MAIL in your apart: Wm: at home, or Take a Personal Course at Sehool. To enable all to learn we teach on cash or instalment plan. We alms teach* personal class at school once a month, Class commencing last Tuesday of each month. These lessons teaches haw to cut, fit and put together any garment from the plainest shirt waist suit, to the moat elabor- ate dress. The whole fatally can learn from Of)0 DOGrSO. We bases taught over seven thousand dress -making, and guarantee to give five hundred dollars to any one that cannot learn between the age of 54 and 40. You cannot learn dress -making as thorough as this course teaches if you work in shops for years. Beware of imita- tions as we employ no one outside the school. This is the only experienced Dress Cutting School in Canada and excelled by none in any other country. Write at once for particulars, as we have cut our rate one. bird for a short time. Address:— SANDERS' DRESS•CHTTINO SCHOOL, Erie St., etratford, Ont, Canada. 01,••••••••••••=1.1•1411•••. A Helping Hank When the foreign missionary had eon chided his talk, he made the initial ap- peal for contributions, however small. Coining up to the platform with several others, a small boy mounted. to the level of the lecturer and hastening to- ward him, said: "Plersse, sir, I was very much *tor- ested in your lecture, and -e -and—' "Go on, my little man," said the mis- sionary, encouragingly. "You went help in t,he good work?" "Not exactly, sir," said. the boy, "What I want .to know is, have you any foreign stamps you don't went ?"—Sue - cess Magazine. "It's aiMply astonishing the way St. George's Baking Powder has taken hold of my customers." "They say it makes lighter, tastier, finer -grained Biscuits and Cakes than any other they ever used!" Send for our new Cook-Book—free, National Drug & Chemical Co. Rs Of Canada, Limited, Montreal. Strike at the Root. (Toronto Star.) The W. C. T. U. still maintains its praise- worthy struggle against the cigarette. But why not, we ask soraewhat impatiently, at- tack the evil at its eource by cutting oil the supply of carpet rage Minard's Liniment Cures Colds, etc.— Select Good Men, Anyway. (Toronto Saturday Night.) If wage earners want to exert an influence in Parliament, let them sorra no party, exact no pledges, lino up rrowhere to be crushed by forces alvraye superior to them. Let them, instead, be openly what they truly are, party -men as dyed in the wool as ow others, but let them concentrate their emir - Kies on nominations—not elections—and nee that men of character and worth are put In the :Lela. ••••••••111•1•0••••••10•• Hendaars Spavin Cure PORTAGE, RIVRI, Cutest N.B., March 5 'o6. "I am using your SpaVillIS Stavin Cure sui4 can Thoroughpin say there is nothing Curb to be compared with It." Gilbert Afusen311, Splint Ringbono Sores Swellings Sprains Bruises and itt Lameness M it bottle -0 for sa. Our great book— " Treatise on the Horse "—free from dealers or at, I. J. KENDALL CO., bestir( Nis, Ernotd, IAA .1.1■1M INTERNAL PREFERRED. She—Do you go to the opera muck? He—Never. She—But I understand your wife to say you were passionately fond of Italian productions? He—Bo I am; I love macaroni. LOOK UP. High Above the Great White Way Are ,the Glowing Summer Stars, It is actually true, believe it who can, that there are middle-aged people alive„ with two perfectly sound, elear-sighteth eyes, who do not know the ways or the motions, or the aspects of the stars oven their heads, and this despite the fact of their harmonious, orderly behavior, their punetualsappearanee in the sky at the proper season and at the regular hours, and their splendid, majestic whirl in circles about the Polar Star. Such folks miss all the serenity and liberation of spirit that collies from look- ing up in June to the fair, bright Spica, and realizing that she (it is impossible to explain why, some stars are feminine and some are not, but it is indubitably true) is speeding at white heat, at an. immeasurable distance, one of the most rarefied and tenuous bodies in the sky„ while just above her lies it wonderfut .double star, Gamma, Virgo, one part glowing red and the other green. Spiea herself used to be tidied by the Arabs "the solitary one," because her position in the sky was apart from the other bright stars. The nearest very brilliant neighbor is Regulus, the handle star in the summer sickle. This is one of the most neighborly of stars, being visible for eight months in the year; it disappears about the end of August, but early in the November mornings it may be seen again. The summer stars are not quite so bril- liant and so dazzling as the winter ones, but they are more easily observedand who fails to lie on his back on a hillside one or two clear nights in summer to, track their courses fails also to establisle one of the pleasantest and friendliest bt universal relationships.—North Aineriemi ,Review, Safe Place in a Storm, 1Clevelaild Plain neater.) "Where Is the very safest place to be wlens you're MI it heat tinrlex a hard storm:" "Tied up at the dock,"