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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1904-09-22, Page 71 E WiNGITAM T1mEs SEPTEMBER 22. 1]104 27''1itle.. egsyViWo.7da Author of irhe /(iss of GWct"77 e Otherifouset- etc. ,Etc,:. eopyr+$7,c rape. ay C%.� Rvend.• r •my dusk of death. There was a blur, a. grotesque mixing of faces and objects, a sense as of.being seized by a horrible separating current and torn away from all things to which she could cling, a sense of crushing loss. She at down before her desk facing the black window where the city lights flickered. The horror faded into a pas- .sionato cry which, though unuttered, shook her whole being. David among the injured! David faraway, not strong and controlling, but lying in voiceless pain under the sullen skyI They said, "Injured fatally." Perlin* it meant dying, perhaps it meant dead. Dead! The word seemed to take her by the throat, hold her, look into her eyes, -deep into her heart and laugh at what it saw there. 1. Nothing in the past inattered beside •the rich truth that David had been her •friend, nothing in the future beside the (raving to touch him and hear him speak her name once more. She knew in a revealing blaze the secret of her .heart that before she had not even dim- ly understood. Unconsciously she prayed as she sat there staring into the vaouity of the 'window. "Save him! I love him, I love him, I .love bine!" CHAPTER VI. DaATR MISS GAltitTClk—];our breezy letter :came like a voice from the outside world into the solitude of my sickroom. I ant much bet- tor. In a week or two I'll bo myself again. The consequences of the accident are a trcach- •erously dizzy brain, a bandaged shoulder and bead and a great weariness of everything un- Ador the sun. Your request stupefies mo. I never hoard of such reckless courage Fancy you out among the minors in those times of 'bloodshed. Do you ]snow what it moans? I can imagine what you will say. You aro a student of life, and a reading of selected pas- sages will not content you. However, we won't tear this subject to shreds again. Of course you lcnow that front a mercantile ;standpoint your report of the strike, your do- :seription of the life of the women in thut hope- less place, would bo most valuable to the paper, and, if you still wish to go, please, for friend- ship's suke, ask Dr. Ericsson to go with you. I will write to hint too. About the stories. Don't go into the intricacies of the strike. Tell the women's story in a woman's way. I'll feature then in the half weekly and Sunday editions. %Sefain, whom you have aeon in the office, Is there now. I'll instruct him to illustrate your stories, and, as he does excellent work, too, they ought to make a hit. Tho relief fund which has been started will bo forwarded to you for distribution. After all these instruc- tions I urgently add—don't go. Faithfully, DAVID TEMPLE. This letter was held closely in Anue's •hand, hidden under the folds of her traveling cloak, as the train carried her over the hills of Pennsylvania. Dr. Er- icsson had closed his eyes upon the .gloominess of his surroundings and fallen asleep upon the opposite seat. Sae was free to think uninterruptedly, her eyes upon the long lines of windows .ourtaiued with mist and irisated with -raindrops, the reaches of land patched with melting snow, the smoke from in- frequent cottages struggling in the dampness and vanishing groundward as if affrighted. Ten commonplace days and nights :bad passed since sudden grief like a :fame had illumined her heart and set before her eyes its hopeless, passionate burden. Since then she had been unquiet; the happiness of knowing David's injury would not be serious mixed with a curl - (Due disinclination to see hien again and a sense of defeat. It appeared uncon- formable that this love should have un- expectedly awakened within her when she had thought herself too proud and .stroug. It seemed as if her senses had :lightly sucoumbed to the potency of en- .vironment, as if passion were a mere .Impulse, and the man treadiug the salve path with her a man to love, not the man her soul had irresistibly sought and found. And yet something within her after ell reasoning insisted on being heard. It had an eastatio voice and gave its own golden meaning to the dark day. She seemed drawn to David by a warm, strong hand, and the delight of yield- ing sent a feeling of sublime weakness :.ver her as Domes to one wearied.wlto Constipation and Stomach Trouble 'The most common ills of life, are quickly cured by Dr. Chase's Kidney -Liver Pills. • . By enlivening the action of kidneys, liver and bowels Dr. Chase's Kidney - Liver Pills entirely overcome constipation and ensure tho proper working of the digestive system. Mits. OWItN CtlMMINGS, Deseronto, ° -Ont., states :—'r I was in very poor health when I began to use Dr. Chase's Kidney . . Liver Pills. I had been a great sufferer from constipation and stomach trouble and was weak and run down id strength" I was gradually growing worse everyday, .and finally decided that I would have to do • something. Hearing of many being cured by Dr. Chase's Kidney -Liver ]'ills I began using them, and soon noticed a marked .change for the better. I continued this :treatment until I was cured of constipation and myrestored to a health stomach•a ty s Y .condition. It only took about three boxes of pills to entirely cure me." Dr. Chase's Kidney -Liver Pills, one pill dose, 23 cents a box. The portrait and signature of Dr. A, W. Chase, the famous ,receipt book authors are on every box. gips the will and sinks to sleep.. 'It Was a happy fancy and hid the meager land under the hurrying twilight from her sight. Dr, Ericsson gave his body a chilly shake and roused himself, opening one eye querulously and then the other. "You'll regret taking ins as a travel- ing companion, my dear. How long have I been asleep?" "For hours. We'll get to Platt's Peak in time for dinner." Auue cleared away a spot on the glass with her finger and gazed at the blankness beyond. "You'll be hungry, poor dear, won't you?" "Dinner? Be thankful if we get doughnuts and cabbage or pork and fried broad. I know these, places," he grunted. "You dont know what you've run into, young lady. I warned you. I might have saved my breath." "Fancy being able from actual expe- rience to describe the pangs of hunger," said Anne, with a laugh. "Don't madden me. I've arrived at the ago when I respect a good dinner as much as anything on earth. As the ir- reproachable bourgeois said at the pan- tomime when the ballet appeared, 'I wish I hadn't otune.' " ""You're in a vile humor today, "said Anne placidly. "I'm not." "Of course you're not; you're a wo- man. You've had your way and you've made some one miserable, so there you art~," he jerked out, a smile in his eyes. "But truly," he added in a differ- ent tone, "I had a letter from your aunt this morning which annoyed n14 very much. They'll be bank some time in January." "But you'll surely be glad to see them." "Oh, fundamentally of course! .But there's the ]louse to be renovated—not good enough as it is. And I am made distinctly aware that Olga is to be brought here on a husband hunting skir- mish. Foreigners evidently have been given up as hopeless. My beautiful daughter has no money, you see." He clasped his hands and looked bel- ligereut." "Do you remember Olga at all? I took her down to your father's a few times when she was a little thing." "I remember her very distinctly," and Anne laughed. "She scratched my face once. We quarreled all the time. I remember that a little guinea hen of mine died, and I buried it with proper, religious pomp, singing over it, 'Sister, thou wast mild and lovely.' But Olga wouldn't have this at all and interrupt- ed the services with shrieks and dances. We parted the frankest of enemies. t will he curious to see her again. o you know she wasn't at all pretty then "Today she is a professional beauty with no other ambition than to make a good match. It will be strange to have them back. But you wou't desert me then, Anne?" And he looked wistful. ""I have Mrs. Micawber's staying qualities, you'll see," she said gayly. Itwasdark now. Beyond the win- dows lay a tempestuous blackness cross- ed at times by the red and green of rail- road lights. Anne sat back and closed her eyes. There was work before her, and she meant to do it well. Besides the stub- born law she had always followed of putting the best of herself into her work there was now a determination to become a name in the world of jour- nalism, and all for a reason that made her a little ashamed—the milliner who bummed a ballad while she twisted a ribbon for a hat, the dairymaid who eyed her rows of glistening pans with a critical eye while listening for a foot- step, shared this ambition with her— simply the longing to appear well in one man's eyes and be loved by him. The rain was beating in a drumming downpour on the roof of the car when the brakeman swung in, a red lantern in his hand. AS he stood in the door- way, the spray driving against, his crouched shoulders, the bloody blotch of light against his rain soaked clothes, ho seemed a figure of doom, as if tho misery, cold and death rampant there had taken human form and entered, crying in hoarse accents: "Platt's Peak colliery!" Anne's • dreaming full trona her like a cloak shrugged from uneasy shoulders, and she sprang up, her face bright with sudden energy. On Dr. Eriosson's arm she plunged through the blank night to the railway station. This was little more than a shed over a flooring and supported by begrimed posts. It was dark save for the yellow rays from a small window opening into a boxlike house whore two telegraph operators sat, the boat of the machines stealing into the shadow like the clucking of a tongue. A man stood looking in. When he swung around, .Anne found herself fade to face with Donald Sefain. They had seen each other constantly without rec- ognition and without exchanging a word. The meeting there under the cir- cumstances was a trifle perpleting. Donald's expression was almost forbid- ding as he awkwardly pulled off his cap. Miss Garrick, I believe? "How are you, Donald?" cried Dr. f1 into the light. 1'. Ericsson, stepping � PP Bt haven"t seen you for an age." And he seized hitt by the shoulder. "Oh, I'm all rightl" be said lndif>ret. esstly. '"Yotl'll bate to milk to Ibe 110- i tel. The cab vendee is very deficient. here. We've all got to live like paupers whether we like it or not," He hurried ahead, the effort of being conventionally polite evidently a now role, "It11 show you the way," he said brusquely, "I say, Donald"—and Dr. Eriosson's tone was just as genial as when he had first spoh u --"aro things very bad?" Donald's stormy oyes flashed front be- neath the rim of his oap. His tone was almost insolent. "Hell is loose here," he said. CHAPTER VII. It was a dark morning, and Dr. Eriosson's mood matched it. He had rheumatism. It had rained for three days, was still raining, and they had again giveu hint fried bread for break- fast. "Thank God, sunshine and laughter are in the world somowbero! It is well to remember that here," he said, pok- ing the fire furiously. Anne stood near him, drawing on a pair of loose dogskin gloves. A fur cap fitted like a baudage above her troubled eyes. "Tuck me in, Aline, dear. Then look out, like a good girl, and see if there's a break in the dirty sky." She swept the rag of curtain"aside and gazed on the marvels of desolation before her. The hotel was on one of the highest hills, and she could see mountains of coal waste looming blank in the mist, rivers like ink flowing bo- neath gaunt bridges, vast hollows of moist, shrunken land above the mines spreading like emptied arteries beneath the surface, houses, as if ,shaken by palsy, leaving sideways upon erratic fouudations, and over all a light rain driven by a wind from the east. "The sky is as dull as ever," said Anne, still standing with the curtain in her band, and she added in a vehement whisper: "It's all wrong, uncle. There's something horribly wrong with the world." "Have you just found that out?" "Last night as we canto home from the funeral of the pian Red Evans kill- ed"—her'voice trembled—"it came to rue what these people are. They are the moving, untombed dead. The starving men guarding the black pits, the wom- en, nothing but child bearing blocks, the picker boys}'with their undersized, ghastly bodies, have dead souls, uncle— quite, quite dead." "`Don't look so tragic, my dear. One comfort—they don't know how really badly off they are; brought up to it, you see." "I know it"—the curtain slipped from Anne's fingers—""but that's what makes Inc fairly siok when I think of it —their apathy, their stolid acceptance of all. They don't crave anything ex- cept enough food to keep them quiet, and they can't get that. Then one of S Sees y�P J Wtr "The ski/ is as dull as cver," said Anne. them grows frantic and the rest follow. Only now and then there's a Red Evans who has hate enough in him to kill the insulting despot who ruined his daugh- ter and who has been crushing and cheating him for ;ears. He went mad, and now the law is loose hunting for Red Evans as terriers hunt for a rat. If they find him, they'll hang bins, and this is justice of course. But why need .Red Evans ever have become what he was? Why? It's such a big, terrible question." Dr. Ericsson caught her hand and kissed it. "You should have put an iron casing round those too ready sympathies of yours, Anne, before you cause here. We'll have a very hard time of it if we try to change conditions which have al- ways been," he said mildly. "Besides, I've come to the conclusion myself for my own satisfaction that the small things of life are inevitably balanced here; 'so life in total with all its opposi- tions and wrongs must be us evenly balanced somewhere else. What are your plans for today? I wish I could go with you and Sefain. Confound this un- certain leg of aline!" "I'm first going with money to Red Evans' sister," said. Anne, seating her- self on the arm of his chair and opening her notebook. "Then I want to see the interior of a mine if it's possible. I'd like to get au idea of the graves where these men spend their days. Tonight I must get a long 'speoial' ready." "Sefain must go with you every- where. Don't forget that. Goodkfy, niy dear. Dont fret over what can't be helped. Remember all workers are not like these. Think of niggers tinging in a lily field! Ab, I wish I were there slow 1" Anne hurried down the stairs and found Donald waiting for her with a Venerable carriage. He did not see her as she came up to him. Standing just outside the doorway, an Inverness cape flapping around him, he was sketching in the salient points of a noisy group across the road. One man stood on a barrel, bis arms held up, while iu howls be called on the others to resist. Around hint were a moor° of men—]stuns, Met, With a smaller inixtaro of frisk aail. English—their working jeans discarded tor antique and yellowed braid:detll. They WOO all stupidly listetilag wisp• Olt in a half fearful way he opened the jacket and bared Ms puny chest. "All right," Donald nodded. "I wanted to know; that's all," •,And be cornmeueed whistling softly, while Anne's heart grew hot, This way ar. tsetse savagi ry run ninuck.. .., = "How r'd :;re you, Joe?" "Nino." "What do you think of all day as yon sit pielcinn the slate from the coal?" "Nuthin !" His violet eyes were vapid wells between grimy lashes. "De you know what the sea is, .Joe?" He shook his head negatively without any interest "The great, e'rsining sea whore ships out sign of ailsweriug spirit, their fade showing that they wore hungry an shiveriug. Donald was never fully aroused ex oept when he worked. His brown nervous fingers held the book intently his eyes flashed keenly from the page t the ]nen, but his dark face looke pinched in tho raw morning. His ai was frankly dissolute. When Anne spoke to him, the smil of which ho always seemed ashame made his fano attractive for a secon before it settled again into the usua ungracious quiet. The horse went at a drawling pac over the hills and across swampy land and they talked of the work for the pa per as if they were two men. No per- sonalities were touched upon. There was nothing to brighten the drive, and after a long distance covered in the fare of a mist that made Anue's cheeks like pale, wet roses they stopped before the house where Red Evans had lived. The clamor following disgrace sur- rounded it. Women bowed by the mai- formations of toil and years stood shout der to shoulder with idle men, all tolk ing loudly, their eyes fastened upon th sulphur hued cottage, whose under sto ry from the trembling crib° tunnels land hnd been shot out like a hag's jaw "She's in there," said Donald. "They say she's like a crazy woman. I'll go iu with you." Ho tied the horse to a post and shield- ed Anne through the carious crowd. .After some imperative knocking and promises of help to the woman shriek- ing abuse from within the door was guardedly opened, and they stood before Red Evans' sister. Ann shuddered uddered a t the faoe. Tho forces in a soul that tame seemed to have set fire to all the softues4 in the woman and left their flames blazing in her hollow eyes. With lank gray hair falling to her shoulders and veined hands clinched at her sides she stood at bay in the desolate room, bitten through with grief, an epitome of hatred, famine and fear. Unnoticed Donald swiftly made a sketch of her and at a sign from Anne slipped out, leaving her to her difficult task. In the warmth of her sympathy and gratitude for the visible help she brought the beast in the sufferer was conquered, and with wild weeping she told the story of her life. She lead been born on a sheep fares in Scotland near a river winding through n valley and had left it to come to her brother when his wife died. .Anne saw the lost hone plainly as the homely senteuoes sketched it—a place of perfume, light and healthy sleep. Sho realized the gloomy change to this black valley with Red Evans, the morbid slave; his daughter pretty and wild, ready to sell her soul for a trinket and at length flying away in shame, and the younger son, Joe, a picker boy, choked with miner's asth- A little Sunlight Soap will clean cut glass and other articles until they shine and sparkle, Sunlight Soap will wash other things than clothes. 413 sail—neve' saw that, Joe? .fust turn ° your head a fttlo the other way—so. Often hungry, I suppose?" Joe smiled wauly as if at, a jest. There was no need to affirm a self evi- ' dent truth. o "The coal rushing down the shoot without a moment of rest must make r your Lead ache, I should think?" Joe forgot about the proper angle for e showing off his knife blade chin and drawn eyelid. He dropped his head to ahis scrap of a hand, ornamented by 1 knuckles and nails beyond redemption. His eyes looked up with unquestioning patience. 8 ""It always aches. It's aohin now." A sigh came from his dry mouth, and It had the effect of a clarion call on Donald. The apathy went from him. He flung his book to the floor. His face Was twitching, His eyes burned, "By --, child, how terrible yon argil Kneeling, he brought his face to a level with Joe's, his hands grasping the boy's shoulders. "Don't be afraid, Joe, Don't cry. I'm not mad," be said, a sob creeping between his set teeth. "Oh, you poor little chap, you sad eyed little slave! e Oh, hungry and sick and old and only 9, picking the coal the whole day through, thinking of nothing and breathing death] Joel Joe! Where is • 1 your God and mine, that a child like you exists under the sky?" Fascinated, shrinking, Joe looked into his eyes and said nothing. Anne could hear her heart in the stillness. Her eyes fastened first on Donald's dis- carded sketchbook, then ou his kneeling figure. "Joe," he said after a long silence, and now his voice Was quiet, "some- thing wonderful is going to Happen to you, something better than yotar starved d ma. "An ve'll write what I tell ye, miss. Ye'Il• spek the truth. Ye'll belike niek people a bit sorry. Aye, aye," she said, nodding at the dead ashes on the hearth, "ye'll say our hearts aro breakiu, that shame an hunger's eno' to neck men distraught, but, ab, miss, ye won't melt 'em feel it; ye can't nick 'em feel it! I'd hi' to tek iuy heart out an put it in- side ve before ye could know what I do an what I canna tell ye, miss.' Anne could not utter one of the com- forting, philosophical things she had fancied at her command. She let her hand rest for an instant ou the.forohead tvhere care had set a skein of tangled Dines, gave a circular glance in the hopeless room and went out, her heart affrighted. Donald was not among the crowd, but she went on, expecting him to joiu her. Ho did not appear, and soon she found herself close to the mine around which the straggling village was built. Before her stood the high, coal black- ened building similar to a wooden lighthouse which miners call a breaker. She know when the mines were work- ing big cars were impelled up to this height from the fastnesses of the earth, that there the coal was broken, sorted and sent down through iron grooves to waiting oars. .A feeling of curiosity im- pelled her to go up. It would be strange to stand in a high breaker, look out on a level with the hills, fancy the riven coal leaping down the rafters, and there write her notes of the morning. Passing the silent engine houses and empty furnaces, she went up the stoop ladders to the top. Ou the lust stop she paused, made suddenly aware the break- er was tenanted. Donald was sketching some one. Moving to one side, unseen, she saw the model was little Joe Evans, the murderer's son. Ho had assumed his working position beside an empty shoot, his head lowered, his band ex- tended, as if picking the refuse from the sliding coal. He had evidently di- gested the fact that his picture was be- ing ninde for a newspaper, for there was exaltation in his face. Hidden in the shadow, Anne leaned against ono of the posts and watched. "Tho air must be filled with dust when the coal comes tumbling down be- fore you," Donald was saying, and be whistled softly as ho waited for a reply. "Itirs that what gives us the asthma," laid jde, backing up his words by a most nwitul cough. "Got anything on ander than rag of *coat?" asked Donald eheerfullr. "Let's sae." Tho Child's blue pallor Rent orisfl!oj •,. asagaziMintaxmapontossansszcassumainanim ruuwumsusraismn'uru novas nZ.71 '-ra. AVel;etable Prcparat"onforAi;- 5linilatit',g EleFoQ:1&:idRel?illi- lilli the 5toa art s ondBosveis of •fNM,�•r cr•r t . Promotes Digecfior.,Clt: erful-- aleSSsidPCot.Coatell:Sy either Opiuni,Morp'.iliile nor Nincral. No' NA:ncOTIC. Zi mpi;n Smei- 4./.SVNM• !.'r n1CTlo SuTrt - ...g,r..fud 14,,p inial - !4 G-er n'5 J1.5a • 1nbm L,v:/td Svvr ,idagran. Maw: Ap "'cl Tic rcc:y for Cr' rR.:- tion, Sour Stolr.,ach,Di..trrhkca, /- s•• F r NVti . . 4.•: V i t r r. ,_ ggn t ,..PUi..,,. C ..iSl.- � Bess endA,cisj.0) SLEI:i'. 'F1'lI roc Sime Signature of I1 tP= NEW L4y.Ci1... T.> tib•', "�71� CXACT COPY OF WRA PPER. RETERIMEMIVAIMERESEI For or Infg n d Children. TiThe KindYou Have Always Bought Bears tiie Signature of In Use For Over Thirty Years THE CENTAVS COMPANY, NC.N YORK CITY. Ayers • mSuild gar-coatinactieond, .Teasyhey to take,cure constipation, biliousness, sick -headache. i wo T,1,:°•; Want your moustache or beard BUCKINGHAM'S D Y E abeautiful brown or rich black? Use rim Ors, os DSOGOOSSO 08 a P. sasi,e oo., IUDIn,4, s.,a "Don't be afraid, Joe. Don't cry. Pm not ntacl," he said. mind can understand. I'ui going to tnlce you to a great big city with me. I'm going to give you good things to eat, better than auythiug you ever tasted— warm clothes, too," ho said, slipping his hand through the broken jacket and laying it on Joe's flesh. "You shall see the sea and everything that boys love. Oh, I've never loved anything, but I'll love you! You'll bo a happy boy yet if it's not too late"—he groaned defiantly —"if it's not too late. O1i; you poor, little baby with your terribly wise eyes, will you coino with ma? Joe, will you?" Anne made her way down the shak- ing ladders without being heard. Her swollen heart seemed crowding her throat. She stood in the chilling rain quivering with excitemopt. She had (To bo continued.) HEALTHY BABIES. Healthy babies are always happy ba- bies. If the stomach and bowels are kept right the little ones will be healthy and happy Baby's Own Tablets are the best thing in the world to accomplish this purpose. The Tablets are the fav orite prescription of a doctor who for years made the ailments of little ones a specialty. They are used in thousands of houses, bringing health to little ones and comfort to mothers. The Tablets reduce fever, break up colds, expel worms, check diarrhoea, cure censt•ipa- tion, promote indigestion, allay the irri- tation of teething and bring sound healthy sleep. A•k any mother who has used these tablets and e; he will tell you there is no other medicine so safe and effective. Good for the new born baby or the well grown child, and guaranteed to contain no opiate or harmful drug. Medicine dealers everywhere sell the Tablets or you can get thein by mail at 25c a box by writing The Dr. Williams' Medicine Co., Brockville, Ont. Reflections of a Bachelor. After a man gets married he seems to bo afraid of no danger ou earth. When a woman changes a ten -dollar bill into small coin she feels a good deal richer. Awomen can look nlmost as scornful at the man who doesn't give her bis seat in a street our as she outs ungrateful to the one who does.—N. Y. Press. 11' out Yonr Complextoit A yellow, muddy complexion tells of derangements of the liver and indicates the presence of bile potion in the blood. Dr Chase's ZidueyLiver Pills set the liver and 'kidneys in action, purify the blood, cleanse the system, and assures a healthful glow to the eornpleitton. AS a fancily medicine Dr. Chase's Kidney Liver Pills arcof inestimable Yale*. is a Harmle .s, Reliable. Rapid and Effectual Cure for Diia.rrhoez,, Dysentery, Colic, Cramps. Pain in the Stomach, Cholera., Cholera. lnfe ntum, Cholera Morbus, Sea Sickness, Summer Complaint, and all Fluxes of the Bowels in Children or Adults. Don't experiment with new and untried remedies when you can get Dr. Fowler's. It has been used in thousands of homes in Canada for nearly sixty years and has always given satisfaction. Every home should have a bottle so as to be ready in case of emergency. •••••••••••••••••••••••••• ••O.O.O@••(t4O••®O•S•••••••, • • • • • • • • • • • • ••• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • Coal N A l d ood `;'Mrd We are sole agents here for the Scranton Coal,and will guarantee every delivery to bo O. K. Just ask any person who has used same and near what they say about it. The following prices will not raise for 12 months. July delivery per ton lots and over, :$G 80 August delivery " " -•,"0 00 September and 7 following months " " " ;;7.00 To take advantage of the above prices,orders must be in by the fifth of each month for immediate delivery or they will take the next month's prices. Farmers wishing to load and draw th.oir owa Coal will have 25o perton rebate. NOW FOR TRE WOOD, No. 1 -seat Body Hardwood, per Card 33 00 No. 2•-•-flsirdwcod, from Smaller Timber per Cord .. ... . 2.75 No. 3—Hardwood, and Ash, mixed, per Cord. , . 2.60 No. 4—Ash and Elul, mixed, per Cord 2.2,E No. 5—Slabs and soft Timber, per Cord. 2.00 Rough wood, chunks, ere.. for furnaces and box stoves2.00 (Nos, 1 and 2 out from green timber.) Our terms for Coal and Wood are strictly cash. • • • • • • • •• • • •• • • • • • • t i' r Jig MoLeafl • Branch Office at A. E. Smith's bank; Phone O. Residence Phone 55. • • • • 4 •••••••••••••••••••••••• ••••••••••••••••••••••• • Wood and Coal Oilloe, heat Znrbrigg s Mote Gallery; Phone e4.