HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1904-02-11, Page 76
A NOVEL
is 0
T WIFE
IS C? Q' •. •ass .'�.
•
BY MRS. H. LOVETT CAMERON,
Author •of 40 Worth Winning," Etc.
wiealI!'eWeWeVilitWA K•'44 e..4W/141I41i444WCIWKCIWACIE♦iYt'
CHAPTER XXII.
"'If this should meet the eye of the
lady who, on Tuesday morning last, ,
paid a cab fare. to a young lady who
had lost her purse, and walked home
with her afterwards, she is earnestly
requested to meet a relative of the
young lady whom she assisted, bo-
;ween twelve to half -past twelve o'-
• clod: any morning this week, in
front of St. Marylebono Church."
This was the advertisement. which
ti had stumbled across in the "ag-
ony column" of The`Times about two
• days after my Adventure with Elli-
nor Fairbank,
Behold me, therefore, at twelve o'-
eloek one cold winter morning, pac-
in . up and down the short space in
;the Marylebone Road which is op-
posite the church. I was telling my-
self that I was rather a fool for my
pains for coining there. The "rela-
tive" meant, of course, Sister Bar-
bara: and if she was .to turn out as
• queer and eccentric" a being as her
-sister, I might possibly be amused,
but I could scarcely be benefited by
the interview. Besides, what could
she possibly want with mo? It was
probably only a laudable desire on
her part to repay Inc the ten shil-
lings and sixpence which I had ex-
pended in her sister's service, but
poor as I was, I did not wish to be
repaid; it was a pleasure to me to
have done my little deed of charity
towards one oven more miserable, ap-
parently, than myself, and I had no
Wish to be paid by the sensitive
pride of her relatives.
Ten minutes past twelve and no
-signs of anybody who looked likely
to be my unknown friend. I glanc-
ed up at the clock, and was mental-
ly determining to give up my wild-
goose chase and go home, when a
voice close beside me suddenly ad-
dressed me:
"I think you must be Miss Clif-
ford?" I turned sharply round, and
found myself face to face with a
short, dark -eyed woman, of about
Jive -and -forty. She was simply but
handsomely dressed in black, and had
-small pointed features, and a
'" shrewd, and clever, but somewhat
'stern face.
"Yes, my name is Clifford, and
you aro Miss Fairbank?"
"Yes, Barbara Fairbank. Will you
mind coming in here, and talking to
me" She turned in at the gate of
the church, and we began walking up
and down the space which is inclos-
ed by the iron railings in front of ,
it.
"I have to thank you for your
very great kindness to my poor
:young sister."
j 'Now for the ten -and -six!" I said
to myself: but no! to my intense, re-
• lief, she turned the subject instant-
ly.
"Ellinor
nstant-
ly"Ellinor tells me that she met you
once before; she has taken the most
•extraordinary fancy to you, Miss
lifford." She looked up at me and
smiled, and all at once I felt that I
liked Barbara Fairbank, and that
she was a person one could trust.
"Sho told you, then," I asked, in
aomo •surprise— "she told you, that
• she had been out by herself?"
"Oh! yes, poor child. I am afraid
:I< don't know how to manage her
x'ery well; she is afraid of me, I
fear. But still she never can hide
anything from me; besides, I was in
j when she came back, and of course
terribly anxious as to where she
was. And now, Miss Clifford, I
must toll you why I have advertised
for you, and dragged you out hereto
meet me. Of course you must have
noticed that my poor sister is
strange --slightly deranged in her
mind?"
"Oh! no, not that!" I cried. "No
one could think that—she is only
eccentric."
"Thanks; it is kind of you to say
that. And indeed upon most sub-
jects—on all save one in fact—she is
as sane as you or I. There is no
I insanity in my faintly; but, poor girl,
she has had a sad trouble in her
' early life. A terrible story it is, to
' which I will not do more than al-
lude. There was a man, who de-
1-ceived her cruelly, and it is her man-
. is to be always seeking for this
Cold Settled
onLungsthe
Yr
Mr. John Pollard, Echo Bay, Ont.,
writes :
" I was troubled last winter with a
'very bad cold which was beginning
to settle on my lungs. I was so hoarse
that I could scarcely speak, and
had a nasty hacking cough which I
could not get rid of. One bottle of
Dr. Chase's Syrup of Linseed and
Turpentine cured me and I can
heartily recommend it."
DR. CHASE'S SOFBUP
LINSEED AND
TURPENTINE.
25 cents it bottle, family size (three times as
uch) '60 cents, at all dealers, or hidmanson,
Mates & Co., Toronto.
I, To protect you against imitations the por.
'trait and signature of Dr. A. W. Chase, the
ten ears receipt book author, ate on every bottle.
man. I trust and pray," she added
fervently, "that ho is dead; but if
not, I pray that she may never meet
hint again; it would be a terrible ca-
lamity for her were she to do so.
But whenever she can slip off by her-
self, on some wild-goose chase of her
own fancy, to hunt for some trace of
this wretched man, she always does,
and it is wonderful how she manag-
es to elude me! She was away the
whole day once, the time you saw
her in the country. You may imag-
ine my state of mind, for of course,
poor child, with those delusions it is
nut right or safe for her to go about
alone. 1. was nearly distracted on
that occasion. 'And this brings me
to what I want to say to you, Miss
Clifford. You will understand that
it is quite impossible for me to be
always wit her. We live in the
country, an a little house which an
uncle has lately left to me. I have
a hundred duties to attend to, my
household cares, my poor people, and
at times I have even to be away, for
I have a brother with a large fam-
ily, who often claims my time, and
Services, A maiden aunt, you know"
—with a pleasant smilo—"has so
many calls upon her. Well, during
these absences it is not safe to Ieave
Ellinor alone. Her health, too, is
most precarious; and I have never
met with a servant yet who under-
stood how to manage her. The real
object of my being in town just pow
is to find some young lady to live
with us --a regular companion' for
her, in fact. I have utterly failed
in finding any one suitable for so
difficult a position; and, what I
want to ask of you, Miss Clifford, is,
whether you will come and pay us a
visit whilst I am looking out for
this companion?"
A sudden rush of hope and delight
filled my . heart. Here at once was
employment, and work, and indepen-
dence,, fallen as it were from the
heavens into my path!'
When Miss Fairbank stopped short,
and took hold of my hand in the
earnestness of her appeal to me, and
in evident anxiety for my answer, I
replied joyfully:
"No, Miss Fairbank, I cannot
come as your visitor; but should I
do for the companion you are look-
ing out for?"
"You, Miss Clifford? But I
thought, I understood--"
"You evidently do not know of
ray present circumstances, Miss
Fairbank. I have lost my father; I
am poor, and dependent only upon
charity. until I can find a situation
in which to earn my living. I am
not suited to be a governess; I hate
the idea of it; and I can get noth-
ing to do. If your sister likes me,
and you think I should so, I should
be very glad to conic to you."
Miss Barbara wrung my hands in
gratitude and delight, and in a very
few minutes my engagement was a
settled thing. The terms she offered
me were liberal, far more so than
any I had yet been offered. I was to
have eighty pounds a year, and ap-
parently my duties were to be of the
very lightest description. I was
never to lot Ellinor out of my sight,
if her sister was not there, that was
all.
"She is so romantically smitten
with you already, Miss Clifford. that
there is nothing for you to do in
gaining her affection. All I shall
ask of you is to try and treat her
as if she was any other young lady
of your acquaintance, and not to en-
courage her to Milk about the past.
The less she remembers it, and
dwells upon it. the better she invar-
iably is in mind and in body. I
hope you do not mind a very quiet
life; we can offer you no gayeties at
Kaneton Scars."
"Gayety is the last thing I wish
for, even if I were not in mourning
for my father. I suppose by the
name, that your house is in the
north?"
"Yes, it is on the border's of
Yorkshire and Lancashire; it is a
very quiet place indeed," with some
hesitation. "I think I ought not to
conceal from you that many people
might call it a desolate place; it is
out of the world, on a little branch
line, and is six miles from the sta-
tion. I think," she said, smiling, "if
you wished to hide yourself from
any of your friends or enemies, that
nobody would ever succeed in finding
you at Kaneton Scars."
To hide myself! was not that ex-
actly what I Wished to do? How
nearly this woman had unwittingly
touched
upon whatmustbe the veryr
v
mainspring of my existence hence-
forth. To hide myself forever from
my lover, who was mine no longer-•-,
to hide myself, lest he should ever
see ,me again, and be tempted. in
some moment of weakness to forget
that impassable barrier which stood
between us. For, God forgive me! I
might be weak, too! No, that Was
best for both of us, that I should
hide myself.
"'That will suit me very well," I
answered, gravely, as I gave Miss
Barbara my hand in farewell.
The next day, according to her
own wish, she called upon Aunt Se-
lina, in Russell Square, and explain.
ed to her that she had engaged my
services as companion to her young-
er sister, who was in delicate health
and had weak nerves.
Aunt Selina was no doubt glad to
get me off her hands; nevertheless
she Was somewhat offended at the
idea of my taking a salaried situa-
tion. She Considered it derogatory
to her own dignity that her niece
should earn her living.
"It is an absurd foal„ t' .,•,,,. „
•
THE WJNG.GA.lf TIMES, FEBRUARY i I 1114
Sunlight Soap'
not
burn the .nap off w a
ooie n
nor the surface off linens..
5uNLK�1T'
r,
REDUCE$.,
- EXPENSE.
Lk roe the Octagon 1Rar,
+•r aitogeitre.,
she said, to Miss Fairbank. "My
niece has no occasion to go met as
a companion at all, she might if
she chose marry one of the richest
men in England."
"Aunt Selina, pray do not say
'such things," I exclaimed, with an
indignant flush; while Miss Fair-
bank looked distressed.
"It's quite true, Freda, and you
know it is. She threw him over at
the last, poor fellow, in' the most
heartless way, just a week before j.he
wedding, Miss Fairbank, I assure
you. And all the breakfast was or-
dered, and my dross was made, and
all, such a lovely peach color!. Of
pourso her poor father died, but
thien it might have been put oil for a
few months, and she might be set-
ting her wedding -day now instead of
talking of going out , as a' compan-
ion!"
"I have no doubt that Miss Clif-
ford had very good Seasons for act-
ing as she did," said Miss Barbara
politely.
"Oh; I don't know about the rea-
sons. I don't much think there, was
any reason at all in the matter, or
sense either; a man with ten thous-
and a year, I assure you!"
"There are other things in lite
more important t than money,"said
Miss Barbara, looking tea at kindly.
y
"Are there? Well, I don't know. I
never found anything better, and I
have lived a good many years. How-
ever, perhaps ,you and Freda agree
upon that subject. I don't deny
that she is a good girl in her way,
though she has made a most unfort-
unate mistake; and I ata sure I hope
you may find her a comfort to your
poor sister. Consumptive, I think
you said, she was? Oh, yes, I will
give my consent to her going, and I
will send her next week. Good -morn-
ing, Miss Fairbank, I am pleased to
have seen you."
CHAPTER XXIII.
Miss 'Barbara Fairbank was quite
right when she called Kaneton Scars
a "desolate place." As I drove up
to it on the afternoon of my arrival,
I thought it was, without exception,
the most desolate and out -of -the -
world place I had ever seen. There
was not a house, nor even a tree,
within two miles of it; not a hedge,
nor a cultivated field, nothing but
miles and miles of wild round -top-
ped moors, dotted over sparsely
with flocks of little black -faced
north -country sheep, and cut up -oh
intervals by swift rocky -bedded
"becks," that came tumbling down
noieily from the hills on every side.
There was nothing else to be seen in
any direction --it was like the end of
the World.
The house stood in about five or
six acres of ground, and was entirely
surrounded by a high gray stone
wall, covered with lichens, and now
withered ferns. It had been a con-
vent in olden times, and was a
weather-beaten and picturesque
huild'ng, with a ruined chapel at one
end of it. It stood low in a hollow
of the chills, and had a melancholy
and to a certain extent a prison -like
appearance. •
Within the surrounding walls were
a pretty well -kept lawn and shrub-
bery, and a conservatory, evidently
but newly built, substantial modern
outhouses, a good kitchen garden,
and a fair-sized field, or orchard,
where in the summer time a couple
of cows were to be seen. So that
it was evident that everything that
was possible had. been done to make
the house pleasant and homelike.
Still, with all, it was a gloomy
place. Inside, the house was prettily
and comfortably furnished; and in a
very few days I felt myself perfectly
at home in it.
• The two Miss Fairbanks welcomed
me joyfully. Ellinor could not make
enough of me; she was evidently de-
lighted to have ate, and seemed nev-
er tired of sitting talking to me in
her own queer peculiar way.
She spent a curious life; she never
• occupied herself in needlework, nor
wrote letters, nor .played the piano.
She read no books except the Bible,
but that was almost invariably open
upon her knees, even if she were not
rending it: and she would bring its
words and precepts into her daily
life in cm extraordinary way. She
took long walks every day, in which
1 was her only companion; and when
1 had been up to the tops of all the
i surrounding moors, and had seen the
wonderful lights s and shadows
among
and watched them, h hadat heel the crimson
winter sunsets front their summits,' I
•no longer thought the country ugly
and uninteresting, but learnt to see
a loveliness of its own in its wild
and desolate features. Miss Barbara
meanwhile, relieved by my presence
from her constant attendance upon
her sister, drove off almost daily by
herself in a litre basket pony -carri-
age to visit. her "poor people" • in
the nearest village, about four miles
of'. She generally went laden with
good things for the old and 'sick.
wheel I helped her to pack int o the
little carriage. We received no visit-
ors. and we never went to church:
indeed there was no church to go to
within six miles, and. moreover,
'Miss Barbara told me privately that
the excitement of seeing strange faees
would be very bad for Minor. Every
Sunday Miss Barbara assembled her
household, and, spectacles on nose,
read the Morning Service to us, fol-
lowed by a short sermon, which r
have reason to suspect Was her own
toniposition, Anti very good sermons
they were too. And once now and
then the clergyman drove over In
his higlitwheeled gig, and. paid us a
pastorh;•'t+islt, staying 'to our mid •
day dinner, and bringing a little
whin of the outer world and its do-
ings into our quiet lives.
lc would be impossible to ,imagine
quieter life, be.
yet I was not in
the least dull. For, to begin with.
I became deeply interested in my
charge,; and intensely • curious to
fathom the mystery of her early life.
Miss Barbara had never told me any
more about the sad 'story which bad
wrecked • her younger sister's life
than she had told ate the 'first day I,
tryst ,her in front of . tet. Marylebone
urch; and us she had impressed up -
me to discourage any converse.-
t n concerning her past'life in 'Ellie . herself, I was naturally anxious
to fulfil her wishes in this respect.
N 'ertheless, in spite of .my utmost
en eavors to the contrary, Ellinor
w uld at times perpetually refect to
in past history, and Would not eon-
s t to be silenced, and I- could not
h p learning something of it from
I kat she let fall,
)ne day she said to me, whilst we
w re out walking:
lto you remember that I had a
w ding -ring on the first time you
st me?"
Yes," I answered, shortly. "I re•
m het- it,"
he was silent for a few minutes,
fny don't you ask questions?"
sh - said at last. "You don't seem
vie - inquisitive, .but I, know why,
It lora has •told you not to let me
to e but I want to talk of myself
to ou -because I like you."
'on 'had much better not, dear,"
I rswered soothingly, for her face
eta suddenly flushed, and there was
a *am of excitement in her eyes.
' n't he afraid," she said, laugh-
ing. •'I shall not hurt you." Then
wit a sudden change of manner,
she ught hold of my wrist, an'!
said urriedly: "When we go in, 1
tvIil ow" you that ring. I keep it
lecke up, because Barbara won't
let ine. veni"t:, when I can get away
h : 's•1 c•ar- r •''„
lytyefltt t, .. itislntne,
1 hat e a right to it; yoaroayn't he•
lieve me, Freda, Clifford, bete: 1s as
true as • you and I stand here, `Clic.
I ant a married woman!"
She was evidently dreadfully ex-
cited; her hands trembled as she
gras••ed me, and her voice was hus-
ky with emotion: We were a long
way front home; I grew frightened
lost she should have a sudden at-
tack of illness out here on the moor,
where I could not have got any
help. I did not dare to let her go
on talking upon theft dangerous
topics. I called her attention to a
rock of stah'tlings that came whirl-
ing 1•y over our heads; like a child,
she was instantly distracted from
her previous train of thought; she
looked up at the birds, but made
no remark, only when h suggested
that it was getting late and cold,
and that we had better hurry home,
she placed her arm within mine in
silence, and let me lend her home
passively.
That evening she had an attack of
illness, the first since my arrival.
She passed out of one • fainting fit
into another for nearly two hours.
and afterward, was so prostrated.
and exhausted that she had to be
got to bed as quickly as possible.
Miss Barbara always came into
• nay room for a little talk after her
sister had gone to bed.
That evening. when she came in
for her usual visit, she said at
once::
"te'an you account for this attack.
Freda? She never is so ill as this,
unless there has been 8o1m10 previous
excitement. of mind."
"Yes. Miss Barbara, I think I
ought to tell you that Ellinor told
ine this afternoon that she was mar-
ried."
"Ah!" Then she was silent for a
few minutes. "That was quite en-
ough to account for it." she said.
"It is a dreadful delusion, is it
not? The fact is the poor child real-
ly believes it. I think I bad better
tell you that she eves tricked into a
sham marriage by a scoundrel who
deserted her. Was' I not right to
take ler away, lest she should fall
into his po}ver again?"
Some memory of another story I
had heard not so long ago flashed
for a mohuent into may mind. But it
was instantly 'dispelled by Miss Bar-
bara's next words,
"The man's name was Thorne,
John Thorne, an unprincipled
wretch. He thought to make a vic-
tim of my poor• child, but I saved
her. It is had enough that her life
and her health have been wrecked by
him: he has not at all events been
able to pollute her soul. That,
thank God! is as pure as when my
dying mother gave her as a sacred
legacy into my care. It is a dread-
ful story my clear Freda—a story of
shame and misery; but it is best
perhaps that you should know some-
thing of it."
"And do you not think that what
she says may possibly be true, and
that he did really marry her?" I
ventured to ask.
Miss Barbatshook her r head.
"Alas, no!" she said. "It is but
ithte indelusion of her poor warp
ed
Some people might th.uk
that I hate done wrong in flying
from him. in not, on the contrary,
seeking him out, and forcing hint to
marry her. But I could never re-
concile it to hay conscience to sur-
render her to the care of a wicked
norm, and as I have told you. I
hope—God forgive ine it it is a wick-
ed hope --I hope that he is dead. If
not, if she were ever to see hint
again. I am quite sure. in the state
of health in which she is, that the
shock would either ill her, or drive
hem' to Paving mak ss. She was
mad once, many ye rs ago—at the
time. Altar it had .all Ihappened she
was completely in MU' for three
more Ins It is lyes perhaps to tell
you this. Shall yy ut be afraid to
stay With us, Feed
Poor Miss Portent. her trial Was
indeed a sore one! kissed and com-
forted her, and old her I would
never leave her a, long as she- and
Ellinor re:wiled y services.
The :;t ern -that r " ed but soft-hearted
Wotan wiped •Away -a few tears, and
bade Clock bliss ale, ere she wished
me good -nigh.
=AFTER UW
• Y
r a
a 'very had. er
y severe winter at
ICaneton $cars that year; 4i long, .
hard,. dry frost, and then, a heavy
fall of snow, that lay for weeks up-.
on the face of the earth like a great
soft white winding -sheet.
Ellinor' had completely recovered
front hey attack'. of illness, .anti there
and been no repetition. of it, neither
had she spoken again 'about her sup-
posed marring: illi, had also eith-
er 'forgottcert.'tte show' are her wed-
ding -ring, or else glad• •changed her
mind about doing so--at.any rate
she had payer allued dto htagain. ;
The only refcrenee' silo' lliid »fade to
her least' was' onoday "When :t had
come suddenly -into, the dz'awipj •
~-
room,, and called her by her name.
"Oh! hero you are, Ellinor!" I hail;
said, for I had been' looking for her
in her own bedroom.
"Alt!" she said dreamily, "It is .al-
ways Ellinor now. Once, a long
time ago, somebody. ,called me Nell, .
his little Nell! Don't you think
Nell is a much prettier name than
Ellinor, Freda?"
"No, dear, T think Ellinor is a
beautiful old English name," I an-
swered, lightly,
She sighed, and did not answer
me. That was her nearest approach
to the dangerous subject „which it
was any duty. to her sister to pre-.
vent her as much as passible from
dwelling upon. '
One morning, when. the snow - had
been upon the ground for nearly ten
days, ono of the maids came in and
told Miss Barbara that Thompson,
the gardener, the only niale being
about the premises, desired to speak
to her at once, . •
Miss 'Barbara. went .put of the
room. Ellinor and I rose from the •
breakfast -table, and went into the
drawing -room. There, standing idly
at a window that looked to the side
of the house, watching the robins
pecking . up the crumbs we had
thrown out to them, I was surprised
to see Miss Barbara, in thick clogs,
and with a shawl thrown hastily ov-
er her head, plodding her way by
the side of Thompson through the
rhick snow,
n my astonishment, they pushed
thro.,h some laurel bushes in theshrubbi•. heavy • with snow, and
which scatt.,.d -a white shower over
Miss Barbara; back as she stooped
under 'them anct•lsappeared. Pres-
ently they both rei.x. ,ared through
the 'same narrow (menthe and pass-
ed down the swept path, • . •. the
drive, out through the front g..,
where they must have remained out-
side the walls for nearly ten min-
utes.
.lust then Ellinor called mo to
come and give my opinion upon the
conduct of SauV.wl, in putting the
unfortunate 'Agog to death, after he
had thought that "the bitterness of
death was past."
"I don't think it was very kind of
hint, do you, Freda?" she said, re-
ferring to the open Bible before her.
"No; but we are told that Gad or-
dered hint to do it."
"Yes, I suppose that was it. And
perhaps he had deserved punishment
in sonic other tray: he had been cruel
to seine woman, perhaps, as that
cabman was to ale. And then, of
course, he deserved to be killed."
I laugh at her queer way of bring-
ing things home to her own life,
and asked her if she thought the cab-
man deserved to be killed, too.
- (To be continued)
THE BLOOM OF HEALTH.
Little children alwaye need careful
atteeutiou—but they do not meed strong
trugs. When any ailment comes they
mould nor be drinrged into insensibility
with the so•called -soothing" medicine,
err should they be given 'strong nanse-
o .s, griping purgatives. The very best
medieiue in the world for such troubles
as colic, sour stomach, iudigeariou, con-
tipation, diarrhoea, worms, colds,
simple fevers and teething tronbles is
Baby's Own Tablets. If your little ones
. uffer from any of these troubles give
horn the Tablets and see how quickly
they will bring back the bloom o! health.
Give the little ones an occasional dose of
the Tablets and you will keep them well.
lees Robt. Hanna, Elgin, Out., has
proved the truth of these statements and
says:—"I find Baby's Own Tablets the
best remedy for indigestion and teething
roubles." The Tablets costs 25 oents
a box. and may be had from druggists
or by mail front The Dr. Williams' Medi-
reue Co., Brockville, Oat.
IMMEMMEPPIIMMArn
The Kind You Have Always Bought, and which has heel*
in use for over 30 years, has borne the signature of
- and has'been made under his par-
sonal supervision since its, infancy.
•
I
Allow no one to deceive you in this.
-All Counterfeits, Imitations and'".fust-as.good" are but
Experiments that trifle with and endanger the health of
' • :Infants n E
nts and Childrexpericuce against Experiments
What is CASTOR -IA
• Castoria is a harmless substitute for Castor Oil, Pare•
gorse, Drops and Soothing Syrups. It is Pleasant. It
containsi. neither Opium,' Morphine nor other Narcotic
substande. Its age is its guarantee. It destroys Worms
and allays Feverishness. It cures Diarrhcea and Wind
Colic. It relieves Teething Troubles, cures Constipation.
and Flatulency. It assimilates the Food, regulates the
Stomach and Bowels, giving healthy and natural sleep.
The Children's Panacea,—The Mother's Friend.
CENU!NE CASTOR IA ALWAYS
Bears the Signature of
TheKifid
�oue AlWa s Bought
In Use For, Over 30 Years.
THE CENTAUR COMPANY, T7 MURRAY STREET, NEW YORK CITY.
Toronto, Feb. 2.—Chief Officer Saun-
ders, of the. Liquor License Depart-
ment, has informed the Commercial
Travellers' Association that if any of
.he p'.trty of London travellers who
were denied meals and accommoda-
tion at the Windsor and Grand C'rn-
ral Hotels at St. leliarys on Jan. 22,
are willing to go before a magistrate
the. ease. against the hatelkeepers
may he further investigated. eine
erector Coppin has submitted -his re-
port, together with a Statement by
it nen concerned. They state that
it was afterbreakfast
hour when
the
cl'mend was made, and that they had
been eaten out of provisions that
morning by other snow -bound travel-
lers. Further that the men who made
ha charge. didn't say that they had
been snow -bound, but that one, R.
Lind used language very ornamental,
when told he could get breakfast at
dinner time. Mr. Saun:kers said that
he rules of "the hotels in, future writ
not b; allowed to stand in way of the
ban', which states that they must pro-
vide meals at •all hours. Must hotel
diniing rooms are locked during cer-
tain hours, but 'tholy must be, kept
ellen ftt future. "The Department
wilt See that !the Jaw is carried, out,"
says Mi~ 'Saunders.
A BUSINESS TIM'S 'S FETTER.
Wm. ''nmson, Esq., of Oriliia, Vice -President Standard
Cher.,,al Company of Toronto, Tells of a Visit
`'he Muskoka Free Hospital for
Consumptives.
GREATLY IMPRESSED %.
1,iORK BEING DONE.
Personally Raises Several HundretE...22‘.. a
Lessen the Load of Debt: 'z"' to Help
There can be little doubt that tine National Sanitarium Assoeia'ion
is handicapped in its great work for Consumptives in the fact that its
two institutions M. Muskoka aro far away front any large centre of
population. Few people have art opportunity to see for tlhenhacltem the
magnificent work that is being done.
These hospitals are away from the public eye. Any, however, -eicr)
do visit them, are united in their commendation of the spleh
appointments of the place, and, best of all, of the real j:.y and e-"1,.
that is being brought to many suffering ones.
We aro glad to have the opportunity of publishing the following
g
letter from Mr. Win. Thomson, of Orillia, one of Canada's best 1;1 •.yvn
lumbermen, which tells what bio has seen himself. It rends
CnII.LI.t, Ont. • November ber it " t U: .
... J. Gnor, F.cg•,
• Chairman Executive Committee
National Sanitarium Association,
Toronto, Ont.
ny Bear Mr. Cage,—
I have much pleasure in enclo:.in g herewith cheque for (n^ Thu
Dollars ($100.00) from the '1'ndhope Carriage Company of Ori!1:a, a (lob, ,a
t., the Free Hospital for Consumptive'; at Grnvenlhurst. Please nl':,,,.ts
this to the Whore Carriage Company in the usual stay.
I have written to a number of my friends, to try and get t`hrnh )nl" ,. • i
in this good work. I hope to be able to send you further d,+nrioo I :.,•:,.
written my friends a personal letter, something similar to the foul..:: ion
"Last week I paid a vi: it to the Free Hospital for C m.su••tp-
tires at uravenllurst, I tact sore of the management them., and
promised to try and interest some of any friends in this a ork.
"I might say there were 49 pat lents there last, weak. i,11 pony
people, most of theta without a dollar in the world, un,Mu.tii ring
from the dreadful disease. Consumption. 'pertore m:,''v 511,1
stories, and t know I have thought a great deal about the in of
the institution ever since my visit there. I du believe it. is v. getby
of assistance, and we who have health and the neer,-otics cf lite
should encourage this work along.
nnderstt'nd the expenses lately have been c.,:u'. the
income, and unless the management meet with minor,' ene.o::, fir•
meat, I tun afraid the work will have to be en:rtaile,i. I kno•'e e.':
have many culls. but I do wish you would give this n.itt,•,' a
thought, incl. if possible. assist. I� lame written to two e r tl:•e.'
confidenthillv..m e to le aa le toc 1 ot tome nem,. fen.
1
work. m mould you nut feel like c'otttril•uting a donation. r.e,u ni
her this request, and your reply is just bet aeen y, .0 and t m,•. a:u)
strictlyconfidential.
"I amight mention. to show that T have e•:uf).ienu-
work, I have ah•eady given a donation of S 00 on anal i u„ ,,,r•
boats to tine Free hospital this year, and intend to give auto.' Ler
$100.00 before the end of the year."
Sincerely yours,
Sir Wm. R. Meredith, Kt., or Mr. W. j. Gage, Toronto, will r'; ive
and acknowledge any contributions made.
�; A
99
150 -foot roll, 4 feet high $4.40 For potato and garden. Better than old style. Of local dealer er
150 -foot roll, 5 filet high 5.10 THE PACE WIRE PENCE CO. LIllf:ITED
150 -root roll, '0 rot high 0.00 Wnikcrvillo Montreal Winnipeg