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The Exeter Advocate, 1891-12-17, Page 2eartateareee Where is TWA Man a in looking for that Isind of man That advertiser use With cuts of " Ctantearly soap " And "13ing3" four-doll:kr slums." " ?lope for the bald "Ime pierced in hear, And °Simony bosom thrille At the sight of youth on "131ex-c1es," Or taking `13uuchten's plea The yen th that, wear' " The nobby' seit " Still haunts me night and, dew, WW1° " Hove svluskers in three weeks Drives all my sleep away. Lawn -tennis woes "1111111 1U1 long Was with me in my dreams, otiey shave with peachy cheek Still o'er my pathway gleams. I want to find, that kind of MAU, SO 1aIMS0100, bravo and fair ; Erect and stalwart, Mid Ivith legs That match and make a pair. With melte that haye :some muscle area With Intuits that look Ei0 Strong. If I could find, that kind of a man I'd not be single loog. .Alas ! the fellows theta meet, They wabble when they walk. Tlley has -e no chins and oh, they look So silly when they talk! • Their coats are padded and their necks Are slender as their canes ; While those grand fellows in those cute Look noble and have brains. • Dear advertisers, let inc know The model that you. use, And I Iran buy your facial soap Or bicycle or shoes. He may be wealthy or be poor, With cheeks of poach or tan, Dat! would like for onee to see And. meet a real mom. .-Jn Zee. MISS HELEN'S LOVERS. CHAPTER X. The best laid schemes of mice and Men Gang aft a -glee ; And leavehs nought but grief and p du For pronnseclioy. Burns Helen Seemed reluctant to part with Mr. Flight. Her strenuous efforts to prolong then farewell at the garden gate met with no success. It was unreasonable for her to ' blame him on that accouut. He saw no necessity of answering her quick questions on irrelevaut subjects '• he could find no small talk with whieh to respond to her many remarks. But. just at last he stam- mered out that "he understood," "he knew," "lie hoped she would be happy," "he hoped thet he loved her as she should he loved." And. then, refusing to enlighten her in reply to her quick question as to what he meant, and shaking his head sadly at her hot denial of the imputation—what- ever it might signify—ha turned abruptly, away and left her. It was no wonder that she looked pale as she retraced her steps to the house, for the blazing sun streamed down on her bare head. As she passed the sweet -brier tree she paused to gather a spray on which one of the fragile blossoms bloomed, but as she picked it the petals fell one by one to the ground, ancl the resisting thorns tore her &gem. The crushed ;eaves bit their scent upon her hands, for she held them in a vice as she re-entered the drawing -room. Mr. Jones was standing by the window when she came in. She looked at him gravely. She had cause for gravity; the (lenge in his mien frightened her. She hardened her heart and sent .her- thoughts coursing back to past events, by the memory of which she could brace her determination. Ile returned her glance; his eyes were grave and steadfast; his attitude was alert; his careless, good-humored smile was gone. The fact was that, for ence in his life, his emotions were stronger than his will. He had at the Rivers Meet picnic made up his mind that Helen should be his wife. Sys- tematically and deliberately he had set himself to win her love. If the task had not been easy, it was none the less to his taste on that account ; neither was the re- sult less likely to please him. She had, against his better judgment, subjugated him • he, recognizing her disadvantages, overooked them. Until this moment he had. been in no hurry ; he would not precipitate matters ; ori the contrary, he would prolong his wooing until her feelings fully reciprocated, if they did not exceed, his own; that would be his revenge for her obduracy. He had promised himself a delightful time ; he bad laid a capital plan, but "The best laid schemes of mice and men Gang aft a -glee.' The advent of this rival was unlooked for ; it upset his calculations and his self- • control ; it maddend him He would not beat about the bush, he avould go straight to the root of the matter. . lie would not have any nonsense, he told • himself, angrily, before she returned. But when he saw her, looking, in her faded pink gown, as fair and delicate as one of those sea convolvulus that grew intertwined with thrift and sea -lavender on the cliffs, ansd a bunch of which he had Telt, for fier only the night before, he felt, with a sudden qualm of heart, what it would be to fo.se her, and he softened his words. "1 hope I did not send your friend away ?" "He was just going when you came." "Is he staying in the place?" "1 don't think so." "Came over from Ilfracombe, dr " Is he an old friend ?" "1 have known him for six months." Her way of answering him displeased and surprised him—it was reluctant and con- strained, it was, oh, disquieting thought ! as though she had something she wished to hide from him ; this hypothesis was un- tearo.ble, and should be dismissed at any cost. "Are you going to marry hum?' There was a pause. A pause so long as to be alarming, then she answered— " No," in defiant and distinctly un- friendly tones. He was annoyed, but not to be deterred from gaining his point by her manner. You don't think I have any right to ask you that question ?" he said. "Any one has a right to ask any ques- tion, I suppose ; but it is always unpleas- ant to be catechised." ' lo ith yeen and—and—ahem—holding your hands, What was I to believe ?" Ever atom of color had forsaken her face alai. lips ; it returned in a flood, her eyes blazed, her lips were compressed. "Don't be angry. I only wanted to make sure ; for a moment, I was afraid. I knew you would have told me long ago if you had been engaged. I was a fool to doubt you. I understand; if I hadn't been sabit annoyed should have seen the whole thing at once." Mr. Jones was taking a good deal for granted. if Helen was ever to quarrel with Rini it would be easiest to do so when he planted himself on his security and his eivars defeat. A man's vanity is coarse and unattractive, no matter with what jus- tice it is owned " What would you have seen ?" she in- gnired. "That the parson was to be pitied—not killed." I was cut up,, don't you know. I suppose "Your insight might have misled you." it isn't your fault that you don't fancy me Neve feminine weapons of warfare may upon iny word, I don't know What you serve their purpose in an Amazonian battle, shoeld see in me after all. It is rough luck Ili tit Used against some Men, and particularly though, I shall never see your face, nor hear " Honora—I think not. Do you not This is the season of the year when the ascent homeward. rgroember how scolded her for singing that ordinate' boas° fails in its secret t000ao for against retch a man as ale, troika., thee are yottr Voice again. I have been thinkifig We Lolled (IP th° stt°P k v Sensation but ita raliculotis ballad th the poor man-- the concealment of Chriatniag gifts. perhaps ?" " When I found that parson a ne w he hit etraight from the ithoolder, or he did 13.°`'hISTit:vt,41'0110.1s here said, going a atop ;soarer, she was standing by the piano, bacle to the light, "do you think that if bad come in as did—through no fault of mine —and. seen that poor chap making love to you, and hadn't asked you what it meant you, had taken it for granted that it was your usual Custom of an afternoon,' that that would have pleased you ?" It would haye been less eccentric ; but perhaps I ought to be grateful for the inter- est you take in my affairs." h speaking, her voice broke, the sprig of svveetbrier which she held was trembling, and he saw it. " I'm awfully sorry, Helen," he said, gently. "1 beg your pardon. I had no right to bother you, but upon my honor I couldn't help it, I was so angry." He had hardly beard what she said, her changing color, her evident distress, he attributed to the scene through which shs had lately passed. It seemed cruel to increase her agitation himself, but he had gone so far that be could not draw back. He muet secure this troubled angel at once and soothe her into perfect happiness ; he could not bear to see her frown, he could not bear to think that he had wounded her. Ile guessed his angel had a temper, but of that he was not afraid ; a temper in prospective is soinethnes considered one of the rather interesting vices, but like the rest of such failings, loses its allurementt at close quarters. - He stood in silence and watched her; he was thinking how fair and stately a wife she would be; he postponed for one moment the words which should bring her to his arms. During that moment she recovered herself ; with a sudden and yet unhurried movement she seated herself on the window seat; a table of some dimensions now inter- vened. between herself a.nd him. " We are making a very great mountain out of nothing, Mr. Jones," she said, lightly,'" in your agitation you even forget my name. Would you. mind opening the door? The heat in here is horrible, and a draught will blow away the scent of the flowers ; they are so overpowering they make one leteathless." 11e did not open the door, nor did he answer. She (lid not look at 'him but she was conscious of his steady gaze. She could bear anything just then rather than silence. " We will go out," she went on, quickly, "it is cooler in the garden. I must fetch my hat and order tea. We will have tea under the trees." She was 'sassing him on her way to escape through the door—how clever was her ruse to get away—her hand was close to the handle when he stepped forward and barred her progress. "One moment," he said, "I want to speak to you." "Not now,"—there was a wild petition in her voice which startled him—' wait— presently—not now." "It is all right, darling. 'don't want to frighten you, but the truth is I can't get through an hour without you. When I am not with you, I think of you. I dream of you every night. I want you to marry me, Helen.' He paused. She was confounded at this honor which he had thrust upou her, the lashes concealed her eyes; she did not move nor answer. " I'm so awfully fond of you, dear that very first day in the train I liked yon. You are such a splendid girl, Helen; you. are so pretty, and you are such good company; you are different from the others. I never knew that I could be such a fool about a womau. I will marry you, no one but you. After all, love is the thing for which to marry. Darling," with a soft contented smile and extended hand, "if you won't marry me, if you chuck me over, I shall go down and drown myself, or—" "Or marry some one else," returnecl his darling' ; who spoke quite collectedly. "I advise the latter course as it might not entail such notoriety." "Helen," still smiling, "you hard-hearted little—" "My name is Miss Mitford," interrupted she; perhaps you will be good enough not to call me by any other." "My dearest girl, don't chaff, I want my answer. I am in red-hot earnest." "So am I." "When will you marry me ?" "Never 1" Mr. Jones' smile faded. "Look here, Helen, I am in deadly seriousness. I tell you that I am most awfully fond of you. can't put it strong enough. I love you with all my soul, I swear I do. Will you marry me ? ' "No," in a low, firm voice. "1 will not marry you." "You don't mean that ?" "1 do." "That is all your answer ?" c, yey 5, "You have nothing more to say to me ?" "Nothing." He was stunned. It was not her words alone, but her hard, set face that confounded him. "Is there some one else, Helen ?" "You—you are not," unsteadily, "in love with some other fellow ?" si He caught her by the wrist, pulled her into the full light of the open window, and stared into her white face. "1 could have sworn you liked me," he said, "as no doubt that other poor chap who was here this afternoon could have done. I suppose this sort of thing diverts you; it's a variety entertainment—one poor devil after another dancing to your pipe. I'm afraid I don't understand women ; for, on my life, I don't know what kind of gratification they get out of this form of amusement. I never guessed you were making a fool of me, Helen. I wouldn't have believed it, I swear, I wouldn't, unless I'd heard it myself, and seen the parson's face jyst now." Her face did not express much amuse- ment certainly, hut -'she tried to back away from him into the shadow of the curtains and he let her go withian impatient sigh.' At this juncture, for the third time the gate bell tinkled its warning of an arrival, and Miss Elizabeth Mitford crossed the grass plot. She caught sight Of the young rnan's face a,t the drawing -room window, and im- mediately approached him. "How do you do, Mr. Jones? Eatnew you were here, your cart is outside. How is dear Heleri? ' She is here to answer for herstslf." "1 am quite well, auntie." "1 left her lyirig down, Mr Jones. told her to reat ; she ,watt tired Out, and ib is such a hot day, Really," peering at ler, "she looksterribly pale. Come out into the air, love; come out both of,you, and we will have teit under the tulip tree. I wilt tell Betsey to bring it at once," And she bustled off: " Helen, I dan going. 1 believe I Was rude just IsoW. I hardly knew what said That thought had taken root deep; hons em to get rid of it 1" , Those were his last woris. Before Helen bad time to think what they meant he had gone; she heard him talking to Miss Mit- fora in the garden, then she heard his quick step on the gravel, then the click of the gate and. the rumble of wheels, loud at first, but soon lessening until they died into silence. Yes, he had gone, but he would come back; he said he could not live without her. Surely, surely, surely he would try again. What had she said? Her wretched pride, her su.Scidal vanity had made her wound him. He must know, he must guess that she was only a woman after all, and therefore to be won. The remembrance of Lady Lucy Freernantle ran a leaden thought through tier brain. The recollection of Miss Jones' " hint," her overbearing manner, the sins (of omission) of the Jones' progenitors, all these things which had combined in prompt- ing her recent action were now replaced by a new and sickening dread, which she (un- used tu a.nd restive under mental pain) strove with the strength of her strong will to banish—and failed. " My love, we shall miss Mr. Jones,' said her aunt, as they sat together under the tulip tree drinking their tea. "Men make a house lively, and he had such a pleasant, cheery way about him. I declare he reminded me more than once of my poor Thomas." "Perhaps he will come to -morrow ?" Helen was sitting, or rather, lounging back in a deck chair, her large white hat was on the grass at her feet, her handswere clasped behind her head, her eyes, soft and dewy, were fixed on her companion's face. "Nay, my love, he bade me a last good- bye he is going to-night—on business to London I understood him to say, and then he goes to Paxford, I believe. Helen, your tea is getting cold. Dear ! dear there is a poor little fly in it." Helen carefully extracted the fly with a leaf, and placed it on her knee to dry aud recover itself, but it was past cure ; the tea had been of fatal heat, and it was dead. She looked at it ; how easily it had come to grief, a false flutter, a fall, and a painful death as punishment for one small mistake. To and fro in the sunshine, myriads of gnats and flies were darting— "You are 90 thoughtful, love; what is it ?" "It's too hot to talk, auntie. Just look at the bed of portulaccas, with the sun on ie I never saw such tints; they would drive a painter to despair." " Mrs. Majoribank's"yellow poppies are magnificent, Helen," with the gentle jeal- ousy of the amateur gardener. Eler coarse soil suits them to perfection ; she has promised. me some seed next spring if I live so long. To my mind the seed -time is the happiest of the year. We sow, and there is hardly a limit to our expectation of joy- ful results. Now the harvest is a period of great anxiety ; we realize that nothing is under our own control, we are at the mercy of the elements ; we gardeners live on faith like the farmers. Mrs. Majoribanke makes a great mistake with her roses ; she will not prune, she will not sacrifice the present to the future. My love, you have scratched your hand; you will pluck the sweet -brier, you should cut it Helen. That is what I said to Mr. Jones; he tore off one of the shoots so roughly as he passed the bush on his way to the gate ; he is remarkably partial to sweet -brier. Indeed I never knew such a young man so devoted to flowers. Mrs. Majoribanks is surprised -at his intended marriage to sthat. daughter of Lord Parsons being unopposed by her noble relations, but he is such an amiable and wealthy youth, and, I am sure, will make a considerate husband to any young lady. Mrs. Majoribanks quite thought, until Miss Jones herself contra- dicted the report, that he came here to pay his court to you, love. But, I said, Lord Parson's daughter could, from her assured position, marry into trade, a connection which we should prefer a member of our family to avoid. I do not like gossip, Helen. I spoke most decidedly, and Mrs. Majoribanks quite agreed' with me." " How parched the lawn is, Auntie. As soon as the sun .goes down and it gets cooler we will turn on the hose and water the grass as well as the flowers." "Nay, love, it would so encourage the slugs, a heavy dew falls each night—but do as you like—Mrs. Mejoribanks was very chatty, I stayed there so long walking round the garden ancl talking. She told me Sir Adolphus is in London, he is always adding to his wealth by fortunate specula- tions; everything he touches turns to gold, those girls of his will have fabulous fortunes and yet Fred Majoribanks will not propose to the elder one. who is undoubtedly attached to him, his mother says. Young men are sadly headstrong. Mrs. Majoribanks is a clever woman, Helen, she notices so many trifles which escape my observation; did you. remark that Lady Jones has dyed her hair ?" "She does not dye it," said the girl, quickly, "Mrs. Majoribanks dyes hers purple and blues her ugly face, and she is a disagreeable, spiteful old woman." Miss Mitford untied the strings of her mushroom hat, which were fastened in a bow beneath her chin, g.nd threw back the ribbons upon her shouMers ; she was over- come. "Mrs. Majoribanks is a friend of mine, love," she said, with mild reproof. "Isn't that the very reason you would like to hear her abused? There, Auntie, don't look shocked, it was a joke—only it didn't amuse you." "You are not\ yourself, love, the air is oppressive and that fly prevented. you drinking your tea. Will you have some raspberry vinegar instead ? ARaspberry vinegar," with a laugh which wadihalf a sob. "Vinegar already; no, thank you', I daren't touch it." Helen's mind that evening was a weather- cock ; first she declared herself too tired to go to the beach, then she remembered that the children were expecting her and she must not disappoint them. At the gate she turned back, it was so hot she would stay in the garden; on reaching the bush of sweet brier she made a fresh decision, the sea breeze on the shore would be refreshing, she would go—nay, she wouldn't, it was SO long a walk—she would—she wouldn't—finally she would anci she went. She returned late, very gentle and sub- dued, very careful of, and caressing toward, her aunt, with pensive. eyes and a restless spirit. This new mood seemed likely to be per- manent, is lasted through the ensuing week and on to the final days of her visit. The weather had broken up, a succession of thunderstorms had succeeded the heat, heavy showers fell continually, the Atlantic wail troubled and stormy. Neither rough breezes nor rain "kept Helen indoors, she lamented the cliffs and the seashore. Upon the sea -lashed, reeks she would stand for hours, a tall, unbending figure against the dark background, the wind flapping her skirts and heating a warin color alto her cheeks. On the last day of her riojournatNeelcombe she had gone for her usual everting ramble on the beach and she had walked for go long and for so far that she felt very tired as she m "Your merry heart goes all the day) Your sad one tires ni a mile." hasithehrtqoebasr:evaneda, several °Uler P(IciPle "ve When she reached Carnation Cottage, elle saw Miss Elizabeth, with chintz eisirt pinned hp high, and 13etsey's pattens protecting her feet from tlee damp grass, spudding up daisy roots on the lawn ; on seeing Ilelen she left her work and hurried toward her. M.y dear," she cried, " 1 thought yoa were never coming Mrs. Majoribanks has been hero, she waited an hour on purpose to wish you good -by." "1 ehould like to have wished her good - by," said Helen with a mischievous gleam ainlwhaeyrseayews.ren'o'i'5fa wig Lebewohl, is not " She had news for es, Helen, she had nbieeeliirtciasllainagnoautnotehde.,,Joneses' ; the engage - Helen was overtired, her knees were trembling, her voice svas rather harsh, she had raised it high. She turned toward the sweet -brier, then changed her mind and faced the elder lady. "Whose engagement ?" she asked. " Sir Edwin Shuter ancl Miss Patricia Jones ; Mrs. Majoribanks is so vexed, she says that her son deliberately flung away his chance." A beautiful sinile crept over Helen's face, the dimples played in her cheeks • she laughed a little joyous contented laugh to herself. "1 hope they will be as happy, as happy as the Queen," she said, returning to the bush of sweetbrier. " Both engagements announced on the same day A curious coincidence, Helen. Patricia's will take place first. Lady Lucy Freemantle and our Mr. Jones will not be married until Christmas, Lord Parsons will not return from America before then and he wishes to be present. The engagement gives universal satisfaction." But the engagement was in truth not nearly so unprecedented as Miss Elizabeth Mitford declared. Poor Mr. Flight, had he known it, was avenged. CHAPTER XI. ' We rise in glory as we sink in pride; Where boasting ends, there dignit—yybeogiunNsG.• . ]for, 'tis a question loft us yet to prove, Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love. —SEMKSPEARE. Summer was long past. The corn was all gathered in ; the shivering trees were shed- ding their variegated leaves ; the chilly breath of coming winter was to be felt at "rosy morn and dewy eve." Even to a genuine country lover, the last days of Oc- tober, amid dying flowers, naked hedges, newly stripped woods and cloudy skies are depressing, and the thought of pavements, shop windows, dry crossings and fresh faces possesses a new and decided attraction. But if Helen ever sighed as she trudged over sodden leaves and waded through the muddy Meriton lanes, no one heard her; if the universal decay and death of autumn saddened her, no one suspected that it was so. How should they? She was the life and soul of her home—an imprisoned sun- beam in -which they all rejoiced. If she smiled less easily, her smile was sweeter and less swift.; if her spirits were no longer rampant, they did not overpower—they sustained—the humor Of her neighbors. If she was less ready of advice, less quick of decision, more diffident of the justice of her jadgment, more lenient, more sympathetic, and more thoughtful, she "was older," they said, as though age always wrought its change thus. One or two of Helen's girl -acquaintances, who belonged to the conventional, egotisti- cal, man -hunting sect—of whom the mem- bers, in converse, manner, appearance, and lamentable monotony of Character resemble each other as closely as do primroses—de- clared "she had grown stupid and didn't care for things" (" things' meant their conversation — which, however, both in purport and intention, far exceeded . their doings). Because Helen had made a mistake, or because fortune had not been kind to her, was no reason that she should revenge her- self upon fate by making her innocent family exceedingly uncomfortable, if not positively miserable, by repinings and moody preoccupation. She was not the sort of girl to visit her trouble upon her unfortunate parents, or make them pay for her caprice. If she suffered, she suffered alone; ;she showed her mettle, which was of the right quality. But, as they said, she had grown older. finder such circumstances a girl of her calibre ages apace. But before long Helen had good cause to be pensive—a justifiable excuse for growing more sober and less childish. A sad event took place, an event at which remorse, sorrow and some natural excitement were blent. Mr. Flight, to whom she had been so un- kind—Mr. Flight, on whom she had practiced her foolish wiles with such un - looked for result—Mr. Flight, whose very name turned her sick and cold—Mr. Flight, of whom she never thought without a stab of sharp pain—Mr. Flight had atoned for all his offences by death. He was dead ! Poor Mr. Flight 1 At least there was no mention of broken heart as the cause of his death. He had, like many a heart -whole man, taken fever a.t Florence, and, after ,a long and severe illness, had succumbed to the disease. His last words lad been of Helen; his ast act had been to make his will. by which he left her everything that he possessed. She found herself the owner of fifteen thousand pounds, and forgot the satisfaction .of her riches in her anger with herself She had never so despised heiself. She had been despicably, pitilessly re- morseless. Even now she could not cast her warmest thoughts to him; she could not grieve for him, she could not wish him back again. She did not want his money ; all she wanted was to tell him how bitterly she re- pented, and bow well she understood now that she had laughed where she had better have wept.• a " Regrets are vain emotions, as Helen knew to her cost—useless encumberers of the soil. Regrets must be strangled, inn() is not to be a waste tensile of retrospect, for tegrets, like all weeds, grow apace. Mrs. Mitford was very tender with the girl at this time, and would watch her, furtively and unobsersmd, from anxious eyes. She had drawn her own conclusion —a, fresh and false one--frorrillelen's altered looks ways. " Henry " she eaid one day—impulsively them, when in reality there ts every hope dieclosing (as women do) the secret which if 1Viiller s Emulsion of Cod Liver 011 is . • . . liltohev,most exceeding bore, of all the bores I To bay() a Wend who lest his heart, a short time ago'? I Had her heart been touched, those words woold not have occurred to her." " don't kuow that," said 1V1rs. Mitford, with an indulgent smile. " A girl will say or do anythmg from a sheer love of teas- ing." Again, with a thoughtful brow, her hus- bdaecnicsliroenv—ievved the past, then he elm" with " You are wrong, Honors. You were always a moet imaginative woman. That poor young man had no attraction for the child. I found her hiding in the hayloft more than once when he called. As there was no chenee of her being discovered by him, I do not think it possible she would knee concealed herself had slae formed an atta,chment fer him." Mrs. Mitford WaS shaken. She vvasalways ready to distrust her own judgment and to rely upon that of her husband, so she bright- ened perceptibly. 'bo she hid in the loft, did she ? How Frances has searched for her, while that poor young man was with me for hours in the drawing room. That idea upsets my theory ; am glad. of it. But it is odd to me that our child should be so hard of heart. I ha.d had eeveral slight affairs before I was her age." "1 don't see anything wrong with Helen ; she 18 prettier than ever, and as merry as grig. You women are always raking and sifting and prying for a love -tale. If a girl is happy without a husband, you won't be- lieve it. Mrs. Mitford smiled shyly. Her husband was no doubt right. "1 shall. send her away, Henry. Now that there is no difficulty about ways and means, I should like her to go and see my people. Change of airand scene is excellent for mind and body, besides which she will meet many—" "So you won't be content till you have lost her, Honore. You foolish woman, why won't you keep her here as long as youcan? You will break your heart when she marries —I know it.'' "1 should break my heart if she didn't marry," Mrs. Mitford said, smiling very sweetly at her rector; 'for I want her to be happy—as happy as I am." So it was arranged that Helen should pay a round of visits, with which arrangement she was nothing loth to comply. She wrote lively letters home, descriptive of lively and varied life. She made new friends and met pleasant people; she seemed to enjoy everything and find amusement everywhere. There was an even, a sustained content to be detected in her mode. of writing which was foreign to her years, and particularly new to her former habits of mind. In each letter she inquired for her Aunt Elizabeth. "She never writes to me," was her com- plaint, repeated over and over again. ITo be eontnnueo. Failign orr a Log. "As easy as falling off a log," is an old saying. When it was first uttered, nobody knows. Nailing is easier, unless it is the taking of a dose of Dr. Pierce's Pleasant Pellets. These act like magic. No griping or.drenching follows, as is the case with the old-fashioned pills. The relief that follosvs resembles the action of Nature in her hap: piest moods ; the impulse given to the dormant liver is of the most salutary kind, and is speedily manifested by the disap- pearance of all bilious symptoms. Sick headache, wind on the stomach, pain through the right side and shoulder -blade and yellowness of the skin and eyeballs are speedily remedied by the Pellets. ' • A Royal Love Romance. It is not often, outside of fiction, that the world hears of such a romance as that which has just beeu ended by the death of Archduke Henry of Austria, and his lowly born wife. By his marriage the Archduke sacrificed a brilliant career and his rank as Field Marshal; and he accepted all this, and even poverty and banishment, for the sake of the woman whom be loved. As time passed on the Imperial displeasure died out. He was allowed to return to his country, and his wife wag made a Baroness. But the two still lived a quiet and happy life, dispensing charity and enjoying the friendship, not of Princes ancl Princeeses, but of men and women gifted in art, music and literature. Now, after long years of wedded happiness, they have died within twenty-four hours of each other • so that it may be said of them, as it was of Saul and Jonothan, they " were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided." Around the World in Eighty Days. Did Jules Verne ever think that his imaginary Phileas Fogg would be eclipsed by an American girl, who once made the circuit in less thaan seventy-three days ? But Phileas had to take second money. The fame of Dr. Pierce's Golden Medical Dis- covery has gone around the world long ago, and left its record everywhere as a precious boon to every nation. In the whole world of medicine, nothing equals it for the cure of scrofula. of the lungs )which is Consump- tion). Coughs and bronchial troubles suc- cumb to this remedy, and the blood is purified by it, until all unsightly skin blotches are driven away. Don't be skeptical, as this medicine is guaranteed to every purchaser. You only pay for the good you get. A Good Send Off. Grimsby Independent: Mr. Truman York—stand up. ,Allow us to congratulate you on the bold step you have taken in entering into the matrnnonial state. It was a wise step. Young fellows always settle down after marriage and we do not think that you will be an exception to the rule. Ah, Truman! How quickly time flies. Well do we remember when you were a little boy selling the Independent for us. It was only four or five years ago and now to think that you are a man of family. Well, well,' Truman, such is life. You can- not sell the Independent for us any more but you certainly can subscribe for it, and we hope you will soon have a boy big enough to sell it. We wish you and your bride very much happiness. It is a Very Sad Thing To see young and beautiful people die when they might just as well live and enjoy health and strength. Many who suffer with coughs, colds and lung troubles, leading to consumption, imagine there is no hope for she had intended to keep inviolate forever —" Henry, Helen regrets that poor young man," "T� be sure she does," the rector an- swered, energetically. "1 should think poorly of her if elle did not. Why, we all regret him. His sermons were above the average, and his kindness. of heart excep- tional. "But, Henry, you do not understand me, I mean more than I saki. I man that she taken regularly. Spread the news every- where that thie great enullsion will make flesh and blood, cure coughs, colds, bronchi tis, sore thotsts and lung troubles tending to consumption. In big bottles, 50c. and. at $1 all drug stores. The child is born who will probably live to see a mac sitting in the ehadow of Niagara who, by the turn of a screw, can supply the motive power for half contin- mistook.the nature of her feelings. She ent. Such prospective vvonders are itist to really and truly loved him." inspire the feeling that one would like to For a few seconds her huslsrind remained, stay around old earth a kw hundred years in thought, then he spoke sloe/1y-- longer.—Boston Globe. 4 quite harmless ; he was 0, frank opponent, 8nould spend our whole livee toget er, tstigrie Was a rieN • gust 16*.ef I had been troubled five months with Dyspepsia. The doctors told me it was chronic. I had a fullness after eating and a heavy load in the pit of my stomach. I suffered fre- quently from. a Water Brash of clear matter. Some.times a deathly Sick- ness at the Stomach would overtake me. Then again I would have the terrible pains of Wind Colic. At such times I would try to belch a.nd could not. I was working then for Thomas Mellen -y, Druggist, Cot.. Irwin and Western Ave. ,t'Allegheny City, Pa., in whose employ I had been for seven ears rinally I used August Flower, and after using just one bottle for two weeks, was en- tirely relieved of all the trouble. r can now,eat things I dared not touch before.41)I would like to refer you to Mr. McHenry, for whom worked„ who knows all about my condition, and from whotn I bought the medi- cine. I live with my wife and family at 39 James St., Allegheny City,Pa. Signed, JoHN D. Cox. G. G. GREEN, Sole Manufacturer, Woodbury, New Jersey, U. S. TELE MODEL WOMIAN. -- The Venus of Medici and the New Toric Cloak Women. While a 19 or 20 -inch waist is a deformity in an adult woman, says the New York Ledger, it may justly be doubted whether the 26 -inch waist of the Venus de Medici is not somewhat too large to be in proportion • with the figure of the average American. woman. it is characteristic of women. of the highest type of the Indo-European races to have wide hips and narrow waists.. In other races the hips are narrower and the waists larger. The American woman appears, in conse- quence of her large hip measurerneut, to have a smaller waist than she actually has. To the unskilled masculine eye a girl with& waist of 22 or 22a inches may seem to have a wasp -like figure, when in reality her measurement is very nearly whet it should. be to satisfy he criticalludgment of an artist or her family physician. The Venus de Medici is 5 feet.5 inches in height, 26 inches about the waist, 31 about the bust and 44 about the hips. The women_ employed as "cloak models" by most of the great dry goods establishments in New York city are about the sa.me height. The measurements required of "model" 5 feet 5 inches in height in oue establishment are the following : "Waist, 23e,- to 24 inches; bust, 31 to 35; hips, 45 to 47; base of skull to waist, 16; biceps, Ile to 12." A prominent physician recently gave the following as the correct measuremeuts for a well formed, well developed and healthy woman of 5 feet 5 inches: " Waist, 24 inches; bust, 33a to 34-e; biceps, 12 to 13 ; wrist, 51 to 5;1- ; hips, 41, to 45 ; calf, 13 to 14, and ankle, 7 to 7-1." The doctoras "model woman" has smaller hips and a smaller bust and. about the same waist as the "cloak mocleL" • Journalism in. the Shales land. Since the Shah's return to Persia after his last visit to Europe he has established. a, Vuraret i-Intibaat, or ministry of the press. There are now about a dozen newspapers in Persia, printed at Constantinople and Loa - don, on account of the Persian suspicion of any statement made directly from Teheran. The chief native paper is the Iran. Every leading article begins with the words "Thanks to the ability of the Governor of the Province of ---, the country is pros- perous and the people contented, all of them offering up prayers for His Majesty." Then there are three political journals, the itira, the Terhenk and the Teheran, which. consider the affairs of Europe and. translate historical. and philosophical works. They constantly use French, English and Russian phrases. There is also an illustrated his- torical journal, the Shere, devoted to print- ing the portraits and biographies of the Governors of Persia and the leading men of Europe. There is a religious paper, the Goai-Shams, published at Oarmiah by the Protestant missionaries. The Akhtar is pan -Islamist, and the Ka7201.L7L goes in gene- rally for the political and religious regenera- tion of Persia. The professors of the Poly- technic school of Teheran tried to establish. a scientific journal, but it failed. HOW She Became a missionary. "I'm doing missionary wotk a goocl deat of the time," was the reply of one of the most charming women of New York, to as friend, who asked how she busied herself. "1 see by your looks you wonder what 1 mean by that. I'll tell you. A few years ago life was a burden to me. I had been a, victim to female weakness of the most aggravated character for a long time, and. , the doctors failed to help me. Existhnce was a long, steady, terrible torture—a I) lingering, living death. One day I saw Dr. Pierce's Fa.verite Prescription advertised. in , the newspaper. Something in the ad- vertisement impressed no favorably. E caught at the glimmer of hope •it held out as the drowning man is said to catch at a straw. Still, I did not dare to hope. But I got the medicine, and behold the result' I feel so web, so strong, and oh! 80 thankful, that I go about telling other women what saved me. In no other way can I so well show my gratitude to God, and to the. man who has proved such a benefactor of women, and my love for my suffering sisterhood." A Novel_ Way To 'Get a Pastor. A congregation in an Illinois town has been furnished with a pastor by a novel method. The selection was left to a deacons who wrote to the editor of a religious journal in Chicago, asking the addresses of clergy- men who might suit. In rer ly the deacon received a list of half -a -dozen tames, which. he forwarded to a commercial agency, re- questing that the recorde of the parties an to fitness, salary, etre, be reported. He gob the desired information, made an intelligent choice, and the preacher is now giving en- tire satisfaction. It woe a bold experiment, and might not always yield such satisfactory results ;:yet as a system it might readily be made an mprovetnent on the present, no - system method of filling vacant pulpit% Changeable weather, producing cold in the head and catarrh, is responsible for °lic- hen the misery Canadians endure, Natal 'Balm at once relieves cold in the head and, will cure the worst case of catarrh. The \geed die young. The bad live to lie aboutweather, and are spoken of as tht oldest jiFabitnnts.