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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1905-04-06, Page 7llaarti tali 1'Iy' UitiiMWtatiya,.r.r.Ja.,r'• 4. I•g 4W 'I AIME .I.., e u ng u1 tl..I 414, �1 Yellow oily By FERGUS HUME, Author of The ]Mystery of a Hansom Cab," Etc. .A �( Copyright, 1903, by G. W. Dillingham Company Q• •MEKV 61 ri,8i. 6111 III. YY "You shall never see me the Countess • of Summerslea. I know all about that I man. He is bad and dissipated." Dorothy respected as well as loved • George Brendon and every time she met him grew to admire and love him more. Mrs. Ward became quite ex- . asperated and redoubled her efforts to sicken Dorothy of the "creature," as she called Brendon. She took to prais- ing him on all occasions and some- times asked him to dinner. At the same time she constantly abused young Walter Vane, who was Lord Deming. ton's grandson and heir. Ile was the man she wished Dorothy to marry, as • one day ho would have a title and fif- teen tlipousand a year. But in spite of ; 'this Machiavelian policy Dorothy still continued to love George and expressed • a hearty dislike for Walter Vane, whom she characterized as a "weak- ling." "You would marry me to the prince -of darkness. himself if it suited your purpose," said Dorothy, from which • speech it will be seen that Miss Ward bad small respect for her fascinating mother. ' The two did not assimilate, as, their. dispositions were so different. Mrs. Ward complained that Dorothy was too religious, and Dorothy found the frivolous world in whicli her mother (moved dull beyond words. It so hap• I pened that Dorothy stayed mostly at theme or went out with ono of her l aunts, who was something of her type, while Mrs. Ward enjoyed herself at Hurlingham and Monte Carlo. Things were in this position when the murder of Mrs. Jersey took place. Dorothy read about it in the papers, :and, knowing that George had gone to I stop in the house with Train, was ex- i 'tremely anxious to hear particulars. She wrote to his Kensington address asking him to call, but received no re- ply. 'Then she saw that he gave evi- Idence at the inquest, and two days later George made his appearance at the Curzon street house. Mrs. Ward, 'who had been voluble in her expres- sions regarding Brenclon's "love for .low company," so she put it, sailed 1 toward him with open hands. She al - :ways welcomed Brendon in this bright, :girlish, kittenish way, as it was part :of her scheme. She thought so seri- ',ens a man would never relish a frivo- ]lous mother-in-law and hoped to get IFrid of him in this way. But Brendon was too much in love with Dorothy to mind the vagaries of her fashion- able parent. "My dear Mr. Brendon," cried Mrs. Ward in her usual gushing manner, "1 .am so glad to see you. The murder, .you know! I saw your name in the papers. How exciting! How romantic! Tell us all about it." "There is nothing to tell, Mrs. Ward," said George, glancing round the room and seeing that Dorothy was .absent. "All I know is set forth in the papers. I. was visiting Mr. Train there." "Dorothy will be down soon, but meantime tell me the whole thing from your own clever point of view," said Mrs. Ward. She was so pertinacious that Bren- don bad reluctantly to yield. Ile de- tailed events as they bad been report- ed by the press, but concerning the confidence of Leonard he kept silent. Mrs. Ward expressed her disappoint- ment when he finished. "You tell me nothing new." "I warned you that I would not," re- plied Brendon, wondering at her petu- lant speech. "But surely you can throw some light on the matter?" said Mrs. Ward. Brendon shook his head. "I fear not. I went to bed at 11 and slept soundly until I was awakened by the clamor." Mrs. Ward thought for a moment "Does Mr. Train know anything?" "Nothing more than I have told you," declared Brendon uneomfortal.ily. He disliked deviating from the truth even in the smallest particular, but he dared not risk the story of his birth becom- ing public property. It was strange, he thought. that Mrs, Ward should take such a profound interest in this case. IIe had never before heard her talk on such a subjeet. To add to his perplex- ity be saw thnt, in spite of her rouge, in . spite of the shaded windows, she "Mrs. Ward, Volt don't IRRptet tilt)" •MI,I IC61110e. eII.YIY . e d,116 .II,L,p, s.11 AI looked haggard. Yet it was impossible that she could be connected with the matter in any way. He ventured a leading question. "Why are you so anxious to know about this case?" Mrs. Ward's reply rather astonished him. "I am not blind," she said quiet- ly, "and I know well enough that you admire my daughter. You are poor, you are unknown, and should Dorothy marry you she would make a very bad match." "I am aware of that," began George, "but"— "Wait," cried Mrs. Ward, raising her hand. "I have not yet done. Notwith- standing all these disadvantages, I made up my mind to place no bar to your union with niy daughter, as she seems to like you"— "She loves me, 3trs, Ward." "Nonsense. Dorothy is too young to know the meaning of the word. I say she likes you, so wo can let it stand at that. But in spite of your poverty and obscurity"—Brendon winced, for Mrs, Ward's tone was insolent in the extreme—"I am not willing that you should marry Dorothy, unless"— She hesitated. "Unless?" queried George, looking steadily at her. "Now we come to the point. Unless your character is above suspicion." "Irina do you mean?" "You know well enough. Here you go to a house, and while you are there the mistress of it is murdered." George rose with some indignation. "Good heavens, Mrs. Ward, you don't suspect me!" he cried. "Ole, dear, no. But it would be un- pleasant for my daughter to have a husband mixed up with such a shady affair." "I am not mixed up with it, Mrs. Ward." "It's unpleasant" said Mrs. Ward, willfully holding to her opinion. "I don't like it. Find out who killed that woman, and I say nothing. But until you do find out, and until the assassin is brought to justice, I must ask you to discontinue your visits to Dorothy." Menden saw that she was simply making an excuse to rid herself of his presence so as to leave the way clear for Walter Vane. But .he was too strong a man to be foiled in this way and speedily made up bis mind how to act. "Shall we leave the matter to Miss Ward?" "That means you wish to see her," said the mother cleverly. "Oh, well, there is no reason why you should not. But it will be for the last time, remem- bor. Your character must bear inspec- tion." "I think it does," cried George, rather nettled. Mrs. Ward, who by this time was nearly at the door, turned lightly and replied in her most kittenish way: "Ah, my dear Mr. Brendon, I know more than you think. Lola Velez"— "Lola Velez!" George looked and felt uneasy. "You ou change color. Oh, I have heard all about you and that dancer." . "I assure you that my connection with that lady is perfectly innocent" Mrs. Ward. scoffed. "Lady!" she said, sneering. "What next? How- ever, I do not wish to hear the partic- ulars. Such creatures are nothing to me. And if you clear yourself of this very shady business in Amelia square by discovering the true assassin I shall overlook Lola Velez." "There is no need to overlook her or me." "I think there is," said Mrs. Ward frigidly and with a wave of her slim hand. "There Is no more to be said, Mr. Brendon. You know my decision, and as Dorothy's mother I have some power, I hope. Now I will send her to you. and you can shy what you like— in fact, you can communicate to her the state of my feelings. But," added Ars. Ward, shooting a Parthian arrow, "I should not mention Lola Velez if I were you. Goodby. I shall not see you for many n long day, I expect" "And hope," said Brendon, much mortified. "And hope," replied Mrs. Ward cool- ly. "You are the last man in the world I should like for my son-in-law. Marry that dancer." And, with a shrill, unpleasant laugh. Jfrs. Ward vanished. Brendon paced the room, waiting for Dorothy. How Mrs. Ward had learn- ed of his connection with Lola Velez he could not understand. Brendon was perfectly innocent, and what he bad done for the dancer was dictated by pure kindness. But even if he ex- plained the whole circumstances of his meeting and of his philanthropy to (Dorothy, she was a woman, when all was said and done, and night not be- lieve him. On the whole, he decided to take Mrs. Ward's advice and hold his tongue on the subject of the dancer. On some future occasion he might be able to explain, and at the present inoment he bad the satisfaction of knowing that his conscience was clear. Ile had just arrived at this decision when Dorothy entered the room. The next moment she was in his arms, and the two entered paradise .at once. "My Clearest, I am so glad to see yon," `paid .Dorothy in her soft voice as they sat down. "I wrote, bud, ''011 did not come." "I .was englged, (flitting." . THE WINGHAlkt TThIES APRIL e), i:'O / When The Bowels Ire Constipated The whole digestivesyston', is deranged and the system poisoned. By their direct and combined action on kid. Heys, liver and bowels Dr, Chase's Kidney. Liver Pills soe t v rco me these o disorders c t sIe ar• Bans, cleanse the system, purify the blood and prevent and cure serious disease. MR. 13. H. BARNAsr, painter in the D.A.R. shops, Kentvtlle, N.S., states :—" I have used Dr, Chase's Kidney. Liver Pills for a number of years whenever 1 would get constipated and suffer from kidney pains and derangements of the digestive system and know of many other. who have also used them for similar troubles. 1 can join with others hi . pronouncing them a n excellent m e di c in e. When constipated I find ME. B4 11ABY one pill sufficient to set me right, and am never without a box of these pills in the house. I consider them the best medicine I ever used." Dr, Chase's Kidney -Liver Pills, one pill a dose, 23 cents a box, all dealers. The portrait and signature of Dr. A. W. Chase, the famous receipt bcolc author, are on every lox. Dr. Chase's Backache Plaster conquers palns and aches, lumbago and rheumatism. , Dorothy nodded. "I know, at the in- quest which was held on that poor creature." "Why do you take an interest in the , case, Dorothy?" "Oh, because you went to stop at the house, and it was strange that she should have died on that very night" "So your mother says," said George uncomfortably. "I really think she be- lieves that I have something to do with the matter." "Oh, that's nonsense," said Dorothy serenely, "but mother does not like you very much, George, and"— "She hates me, you mean." "Well," responded ' Miss Ward can- didly, "If you ask me to tell the truth, I think she does. But you know what my mother is. I—no, if I cannot say good. of her, let me at least say noth- ing bad. But I love you, George, you know that." "My own heart," and Brendon took her in his stroug arms, thanking God for the gift of so steadfast a heart. Dorothy was tall and slim and dark. Iler dark beauty contrasted well with the fair comeliness of George Brendon, and seated side by side on the sofa they looked an extremely handsome couple. Certainly they might have ap- peared happier, fur Dorothy was down- cast, and in Brandon's blue eyes there lurked a worried look. He was won- dering haw he could communicate Mrs. Ward's decision to the girl. Dorothy looked at him and smiled. "A penny for your thoughts, George," she said, taking his hand. "I'll sell them as bankrupt stock," said Brendon, drawing her closer. And then be took his courage in both hands for the necessary confession. "This may be my last visit, Dorothy," he said. She looked at him in surprise. "Why do you say that?" -Your mother"— "Oh, never mind my mother," broke in the girl petulantly. "I know she objects to our marriage, so"— "On the contrary, she told me that she would not object if I could clear myself of complicity in this crime!" "George! Did she accuse you of"— "Not in so many words," interrupted the lover, "but I saw very plainly what she meant. The fact that I slept in that house on the night Mrs. Jersey was murdered is to her mind a proof that I have something to do with the matter. "But you can prove conclusively that you have not," insisted Dorothy. "Certainly.. Mr. Train, with whom I was stopping, can prove that I did not leave my room. The key of the sitting room door was in his possession, and to get out I should have had to make use of him." George paused and thought for a moment. "But there is Treated by Three Doctors for a Severe Attack of Dyspepsia, Got No Relief From Medicines, Bt't Found It At Lam '• in Burdock Blood Bitters. Mrs. Frank Hutt, Morrisburg, Ont., was one of those troubled with this most common of stomach troubles. She writes :—"After being treated by three doctors, and using many advertised medicines, for a severe attack of Dyspepsia, and receiving no benefit, I gave up all hope of ever being cured. Hearing Burdock Blood Bitters so highly spoken of, I decided to get a bottle, and give it a trial. Before 1had taken it I began to feel better, and by the time I had taken the second one 1 was completely cured. 1 cannot recommend Bur- dock Blood Bitters too highly, :Sind would advise all sufferers from dyspepsia to give ft a trial." one thing" -- that he llOsltated, 'I don't know if I ought to tell you." "Whatever Concerns you concerns me," she said. "You know that I love you as dearly as you love me, and nothing you tell ine shall ever part us." "Oh, I don't think what I am about to say will have that effect," was I3ren- don's reply. "But I have a confession to make about my—my birth." Dorothy looked at him in amazement. "About your birth?" she repeated, "Yes. You may as well know all. And I know you will not betray me, even to your mother." "To her least of all," said Dorothy vehemently. "Tell me quick." Encouraged by her faith and by the tender clasp of her hand, George re- fitted to her time story of his birth and of his connection with Lord Derwin "•What is it?" asked Dorothy, seeing KIDNEY DISEASE. ton. Also he detailed how he had gone to seek Mrs, Jersey, and how. 8110 bad been murdered before he could get the truth out of her. "Or even see her," finished George. "And now you know, dearest, why I do not wish you to re- peat this story. If your motiier knew it she night think—think—well, she certainly would not let you ;Barry me." "She has made her mind up already so far as that is concerned," said Dor- othy quickly. "It is Mr. Vane whom she wishes mo to marry." "My cousin, although he does not' know it," said George quietly; "but I want your advice, Dorothy, and will be guided by it. What shall I do? You see, now that Mrs. Jersey is dead there is no chance of getting at the truth." "Why not advertise?" "I have tried that for some months in every country paper in the kingdom, but there has been no response. My father and mother must have been mar- ried in some out of the way village, in some lonely church. The parson and those who know about the marriage may be dead. In fact, it is extremely probable that they are. Mrs. Jersey was present as my mother's maid, and she might have been able to tell me where the church is. I only want to find the register of the marriage and get the certificate. Then I shall see Lord Derrington and insist on my rights being recognized. IIe can't leave either the title or the money away from me." Dorothy shuddered. "Your grandfa- ther is a terrible old man. Ile always reminds me of one of those Italian despots. There is nothing he would not do provided that the law could not touch him." "And I dare say, from your descrip- tion, the things he desires to do are of the kind that the law would snake him answerable for." "George," said Dorothy after a pause, "do you think he has anything to do with this murder?" Brendon turned'slightly pale and set his lips firmly. "No, dearest," was his reply, but delivered with some uncer- tainty. "IIe does not know—at all events from me—that I am seeking for a restitution of my rights, and there- fore would have no reason to rid him- self of this woman. Besides, I don't know if he is aware of her existence." It will be seen that Brendon was ig- norant 'that Lord Derrington was the owner of the Jersey mansion and had allowed madame an annuity. Ilad he known this much he might have been able to shape his course better; but, being in the dark, he had to do the best he could with Dorothy's assist- ance. IIe had asked for her advice and site gave it. "George, I should get back my birth- right if I were you." "But I may be dragged into this mur- der case." "No. Mr. Train can save you from being accused of that. It is only right thnt you should take your proper po- sition in society. You owe it to your dead mother and to yourself to show that you have the right to your fa- ther's name." "The first thing I shall do will be to see 3Ir. Ireland, my guardian. He took charge of me after my grandfather Lockwood died, and it was by his ad- vice that I changed my name to baf- fle the inquiries of Lord Derrington. He will know all about the marriage and may be able to indicate where my parents went when they eloped, I have never asked him for a detailed statement, but I shall do so now, Once I find a clew I shall not rest un- til I prove my legitimacy. For your sake, my dear—for your sake," and he kissed her. • They parted at the door. Brendon ons juPt stepping out into the ball when a thought occurred to him. IIe re-ontere.t anti closed the door. "Dor- othy," he asked in a low whisper, "why slid you give me the yellow Holly on that night?" She looked surprised. "It was to please you," she said softly, "and io tell you the truth, George, I thought that the holly was a proof that my mother relenting gt toward d you." I "IIow do you mean, Dorothy?" "It was my mother who gave rue the hotly," she explained. "I came from the park aind told her you were going to stopwith Mr. Train and that she could set her mind at rest, as I should not see you for a few days. She seemed pleased, and, taking the yellow holly from a vase in her boudoir, site gave me a sprig, saying that I could give it to you for consolation. Why do you ask me this, George?" "There is no reason for my asking," he replied, suppressing the truth, "but yellow holly is rare." "Very rare. , I don't know where my mother got the sprig." After this they parted, and Brendon "walked thoughtfully away. Mrs. Jer- sey bad been startled by the sight of the holly. Mrs. Ward had given the sprig to Dorothy, who bed presented it to him. )Ie asked himself If there Was it reason for !qrs. Ward's action. ' Diseases of the Kidneys are 1 numerous, from the fact that these organs act as filters to the blood, and form one of the great channels 1 for the removal of the. from ' , the system, which, if allowed to remain, give rise to the various kidney affections, such as Dropsy, Diabetes, and Bright's Disease, The following are some of the 4, symptoms of kidney disease :— Backache, sideache, swelling of the feet and ankles,frequent thirst, puffiness under the eyes, floating specks before the eyes, and all dis- orders of the urinary system, sueh as frequent, thick, cloudy, scanty, or highly colored urine. DOAN'S KIDNEY PILLS are exactly what the name suggests. They are not a cure-all, but are a specific for kidney troubles only. Price 60 cents per box, or 8 for $1.25. All dealers, or THR DoeN S1DNltx PILL Co., Toronto, Ont. CIIAI'TER VI. FTEIL his disagreeable experi- ence in the Bloomsbury c1Ws- trict Brendon was not vets- anxious ett'anxious to go there again, but it was necessary that he should do so if he wanted to see his guardian. From force of habit he still continued to call him so, although .lir. Ireland had long since ceased to act in that capacity. George had a sincere respect for him and frequently paid hits a visit. i'sual. ly it was one of ceremony or of en- joyment, but on this occasion the young man went in search of knowl- edge. Ireland was an eccentric character who collected posters. Most collectors turn their attention to stamps, to snuffboxes, to autographs and such like trifles, but Mr. Ireland huuted for those gigantic and gaudy pictures which make gay the thoroughfares of the city. Teti rt'ns n tall olcl marl, with rather Tong white hair and a clean shaven, benign face. His usual height did away with the impression of his ex- cessive stoutness. George often won- dered at his size, considering that the man ate comparatively little. Mr. Ire- land was dressed in glossy broadcloth scrupulously brushed and wore au old fashioned Gladstone collar. He had mild blue eyes, rather watery, and a large mouth with full red lips. This hint of sensuality was contradicted by the serenity and pallor of his face and by his life, which was as correct as his dress and as methodical as his hours. Never was there so methodical a man. He lived by the clock, and with him one day exactly resembled an- other. He rose at a certain hour and retired precisely when the hand on the clock indicated another. His meals were always regular, and he bad stated hours for walking, when he went out whether it was wet or fine, sunny or foggy. The man was like a machine, and George, when living with him in his early days, had often found these restrictions irksome. It was 1 o'cloc'k when Brendon called, and Mr. Ireland had just finished his luncheon. At 2 precisely he would leave the house for his one hour's constitutional. Bren- don was aware of this and had timed his visit accordingly. Nevertheless Ire- land looked at his watch and men- tioned the fact. "I can only give you an hour, George," he said. "You know my hab- its." "An hour will be sufficient," replied Brendon, taking the one chair. "You "1 wtsh to hear the story of my parents." are not lookingvery eU sir," he add- ed, noting the fagged air of the Old pian, "I have not been sleeping so sound- ly as usual," rejoined Ireland. "At my age—and I am noir seventy-five- I g y can't be expected to enjoy my bed so much as a young person." As time was short and Mr. Ireland would be sure to terminate the inter- view exactly at the stated hour George plunged immediately into the business which hard brought him hith- er. "I wish to hear the story of my parents," lie said deliberately. The cigar fell from the fat fingers of Ireland, and lie stared in amazement at the young man. "It is rather late in the day for that, is it not?" he asked. "(letter late than never," quoted George, "A proverb is no answer," said Ire- land testily, "'l'hen, it yen wish to know, sir, I ittu in love," "ThatId N11,1 w l no answer ovyceither," "It will lead to a eery explicit anirt - swer," rejoined the young man coolly. 1613 "Love leads to marriage, and in my case marriage cannot take place un- less I know that I awl legitimate." "Of course you are. I have always a<Itaintained that you are," "What proof have you?" asked George eagerly. Ireland hesitated and wiped his�'ak1.i.$ G S"1 O mouth in •quite an unnecessary man- tier with a red silk handkerchief. r,� , "Your father always declared that r �' :t Miss Lockwood was his lawful wife, and treated her with every respect." o „ e "Did my father ever tell you where Little Liver Pills the marriage was celebrated?" Little 1 a "No; I never asked, nor did your grandfather Lockwood. It was not till after your mother's death that Lord Derrington denied the marriage. Then Mr. Vane was in Italy and never troubled about the matter." "He should have done so' for my sake," said George indignantly. "Certainly, and I urged him to do so," said Mr. Ireland heavily. "I was in Italy at the time, and you were only an infant in anus" "'Who was my nurse then?" "Jane Fraser, the Scotch nurse who afterward brought you to your grand- father Lockwood when Mr, Vane was murdered." "Do you remember the other nurse, the first ono I had?" Mr. Ireland grew indignant and puff- ed angrily at his cigar. "I do, indeed," he said wrathfully, "a vulgar, forward hussy. She was not bad looking either and sot up for being a lady." here he began to laugh. "World you believe it, George, my boy, site was in love with your father and showed it so plainly that be was obliged to get rid of her?" "What was her name?" "EIiza Stokes. And she was hand- some in a bouncing way." "What became of her?" "I can't tell you," said Ireland, with sudden reserve. "Did you see her after slie was dis- missed?" Irelafnd turned his cigar slowly and did not look at George when he replied. "Yes, I did. When and where it does not matter." "But it does matter—to me!" cried Brendon anxiously. "It is to know SECURITY. rs (To be continued.) Bret lk rte am a Conroni. Bret Il:arte's consulship at Glasgow was a sort of joke. William Black told ire that once when he was return- ing from tour with Harte as they slowly enteed n city Bret said, "'What huge, ugly place is this?" "It is," said Black, "the city in which you have been consul four years."— Moncure ear; "- 3foncure Daniel Conway's Autobiogra- phy. Postponement Inevitable. "If yob husbnn' beats yoh. .abbe yoh kin hab him sent to de whippin' pos'," said Mrs. Potomac Jackson. "If my liusban' ever bents me," said Mrs. Tolliver Grapevine, "dey kin send him to de whippin' pos' if dey wants to, but dey'Il have to wait till he gits out'n de hospital." In After Tears. Old Fogy Fattier—.ley father never supplied ine with money to squander on fast horses, theater parties, late din- ners and the like. Up to (tate Son—Oh, that's all right, dad. Yon must remem- her that I coarse of a more aristocratic family than you did. tneasy About the Dos. "How is your boy Alfred succeeding at college?" • "I'm afraid we'll find out pretty soon that he's been running in debt. Ire's writing to us once a weed: now." "1 may not be wealthy. but I can af- ford my own carriage and pair," said the fond fattier as he wheeled his tains ai^-ng the pavement. MILBURN'S Heart and Nerve Pills, Aron specific for all diseases end dis- orders arising from a run-down condi- tion of the heart or nerve system, such as Palpitation of the Heart, Nervous Prostration, Nervousness. Sleepless - 110.s, Paint and Dizzy Spells, Brain Fag, etc. They are especially beneficial to women troubled with irregular men - duration. Price 80 cents per box, or 3 for $1.25. Ail dealers, or Tina T. ]lftrnuuw ('o„ Lamm). Toronto, Ont. MANAGED %'..'Yt'L•'L. c' a Must Hear Signature of Sea Fac.Suuc'te Wrt•pper Below. *Very *mail and as ea si to take as sugar. rF0�l::14/7 14/ IksL.Aa�-r-0.r�'r FOR BILIOUSNESS. FOR TORPID LIVER. FOR CONSTIPATION. FOR SALLOW/ SKIN. FOFI THE COMPLEXION 4 r-wv. 1azv NU.TMVI MATUII t, !S Gs�MsI�' Iy''egothb10 i.fts'�i..G ITTLlrp P 1 LLS. CURE SICK tiEADACL-tE. SECRET OF SUCCESS. The Story the Great Man Thought Would Be hest to Print. "Now," said the interviewer after the great )Han had told of his achievre- ments, "will you tell me to what you ascribe your success?" "For publication or your own infor- mation?" asked the great man. "For publication," was the reply. "Then say," said the great man re- flectively, "that I attribute my present position to industry, economy, perse- verance, a determination to succeed and a general observation of all the rules which, if you care to print then` at length, you may find in the biogra- pity of any self made man." The interviewer laid down his pencil. "For my own information," he said, "what are the reasons for your suc- cess?" "3Iy relatives, friends and the grace of God," responded the great man. "My father and mother were perhaps responsible for most. `love my ease as much as any man. I delight to put oft till tomorrow what I might do today, but my parents cured me of that as far as their opportunities 'went. Through my uncle I got nay start in business. Many a time when opportunity has knocked at my door I have been asleep, and she has passed on, but some friend of mine has caught her by the ear, brought her back and insisted on my embracing her. "For the most brilliant of my achievements there is absolutely no ex- planation. Most were accomplished without previous thought, at a chance meeting or under circumstances such, as no living man could have brought about. That is what I call the grace of God." "Better let me print that," remarked the interviewer. "No," replied the great man. "The old story is best. It may be tiresome to some, but it's beeu told so often that no other will be believed." --St. Louis Ite- public. A Lave Scene. "Before I went away you seemed to love me." "Yes?" "And now you are different" "You are mistaken -utterly mistak- en." "Are you not different ?" "No; I am indifferent." But even that did not seem to. satisfy him. Some men are hard to please.— Cleveland Lender. BeSond Benson. A Scottish singer named Wilsou. who was being trained for professional work, sang a love song with exquisite quality of voice, but with insufficient passion and expression. His teacher told him he must put more feeling into it and sing as if he were really in love. "Eli, man," he repiied, "lino can I do that and ate a marriet man?"—London Tit -Bits. Her Otrn Affair. "Wind' do yon think you are going to hateh out of that door knob and that piece of brick?' sneeringly asked the old rooster. "I'll hatel% a it. Sera per if I want to," squawked the old Lon liereely. "You go and attend to your own affairs. I'in running this branch of the business. "-- Chicago Tribune. OUTSIDE I ADVERTISING Trustworthy lady or irentiemen to manage 11a+hWRN in this eottrty and adjoining territory Cor welt and favorably known ;mouse of solid iluanuiul standing. $20X1 straight eayli salary and Expeneeeal, paid each Monday by cheek direct from headquarters hspenscrr money adraneed. Position permanent. address. Matisse,', 81* Como Block, Chicago lllino% Orders for the irmaertion of natvertisemenca such IN tenrllelw tvantl•11,. intaillese chances, mechanics wanted, nrticl,wf"r.vale, or in feet any kind of an advt. in ...ray of the Toronto or ether city papers, may be leftat the Than*: once. This 'work will reecive prompt attention and will uevo people the trouble of remitting for and forwarding edvertf'l•lncnits. Lowe -a, rAtts will be quotaxl apt n»rheait;ort. Leave or send your next work of t Id kind to rho TIMES OFL'ICF. 'i<i't<nsrhttliw.