The Exeter Times, 1894-10-18, Page 6Cures Consumption, conghs, Cr oup, Sore
ith,r00. Sold)* allleruenots on e. Guarantee.
oor g Side, "Back or Olie:,•?; Shiloh's Porous
Mester will give gre at seat friction. -ns ccu5,
SHILOH'S VITALIZER.,
Tarcl• FL FraWbillii3Oliattrincoate Tonna ea
Viterazer.rad.V.142,),
consideretterthe,streme,dgeereale ngeetenseetens
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trouble et excels. ,1ee-'10.
!.1 ILO H'S CATARli
FIE EDT,
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positively relieve and. Cure yen. Prine &I ots,
This Injector %or its successful treatment is
furuished free. HFunem5'er,81Molreltemedie6
are WO- emaranteet -ire satisfaction.
LEGAL,
H. DICKSON, Barrister, S 01i -
s oi tor o t Supreme Court, N o bevy
• Public, Conveyancer, Clumnatesioner.
Money to Lean;
°Meet n enson'allilook, Exeter,
R j, COLLINS,
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OFFIOE, - MAIN - STREET, EXETER.
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1.151211%.
MEDICAL
T w. BROWNING II. D., 0
• P. 5, Graduate Vletoria. Univers ty;
office and residence, Domlnion Lebo n
tory „Ilse her ,
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L.- County of Huron. °Mee, opp..atte
Carling Bras. store, Exeter.
DRS. ROLLINS & AIEOS.
Separate ()aloes. Resid,ence,semer as former.
ry. Andrew 9t. Offices: Spackman's building.
Hain st; De Rollins' same as formerly, north
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T.. ROL,LINS, M.D., T. A. AllOS.M. D
Exeter, Ont
AUCTIONEERS.
T,. RARDY, LICENSED A CIO-
tieneer for the Coanty of Huron.
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1JFONF TO LOAN AT 6 AND
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iiag Con:pen: es represented.
L. H. DICKSON'.
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FRED W. FARNOOM.B,
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El :El T0
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VETERINARY.
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POWDERS
Cure SIOlf NEADA014Z ,and ineuralgio.
In 20 nesnIttros, tato Coated rorigucaDizei-
riess,,Biliousness, Pain in the Side, Cmistmation,
Torpid Liver., Bad Breath. tostay cured also
regulate tbe ictowls. yang &Ice aake.
•tenecter „ea Corirra. DRuct STONl
If.MAPT4R IV -a Coennlanan.)
"That a long way to look ahead," gad
Arden. "Ihope she will grow up a light-
hearted, happy girl, hee Mind so well
furnished, her inemoryse full of interesting
things, that sheen the evil yea Apprehend
ever come to pees she maybe strong enough
• to hear the ahock. In the meantime 1 true*
that all her friends in this place, from the
highest to the lowest, will do their best to
keep her in imearanee of everything except
the one fact that ahe has lost a good and
affectionate father„"
While this conversation was going on in
the elrwriingeroom, Mrs. Talbot was stroll-
ing about the garden to geb rid of time, in
secordatme with Mr. Reardon's auagestion
that it would be well to leave the mourn-
er to herself for an hour or so. The lawo
and, river, the &were and. shrubs were in
the perfection of their summer beenty ;
lumps of roses, hedges of roses; standard
roses, dwarf roles, blush roses, climbing
roses, made the glory of the long, tarrow
lawn, and between the lawn and the river
there WM a terrace with great green tubs
eantainiug orange -trees ranged at regular
interval. There was a flight of steps, lead
ing to the river at each end of the terrace,
and at the western end, with its back to the
setting sun, there was a summer -house of
classic form, in. Portlansi stone, a summer
Imam which in Italy would have been of
marble, At the eastern end of the terrace,
and. on a lower level, there was a capaoioue
haiat-bonse, containing a temple of ou.trig-
gers, a punt, and a skiff, and the level roof
of this boat -house had been a fa.vorite
lonaging-place of Robert Ratrell and his
friends-aplace on which to talk and smoke
hi the summer twilight as the pleasure -
boats wenb down to Henley.
Mrs. Talbot had seen her husband and
the dead man sitting there in close con-
fidential talk on a summer evening after
dinner, while she and her sister strolled up
and down the terrace, or stopped to feed
the white, stately swans and their soft
gray cygnets. She almost fancied she could
hear the mellow sound of Robert Hatrell's
laughter as she walked there now. What
a joyous, frank, expansive nature 1 What
happy life 1 wanting nothing that this
world can give of comfort and delight;
endowed with strength, intellect, good
looks, fortune, perfect health, and a wife
who adored him. Ana he had been stabbed
to death in a shabby London lodging by an
unknown hand. It was only a fortnight
ago that Emily Talbot and her husband
had been dining at River Lamm They
had. gone down for a single night in the
very finale of midsummer, just to smell the
roses just for a few hours' respite from
London gayeties and London emoke,
as Clara had expressed it in her let-
ter of invitation. There had been only the
rector and Mr. Arden to meet them, the
two men now in the drawing -room with
the lawyer. They had been a most sociable
party, full of talk, Hatrell expatiating upon
his plans for the arrangement of the land
which was so soon to be his, and in higher
spirits tlaau usual.
There had not. been a cloud on the hori-
zon; and Mrs. Talbot, who loved Harley
Street and her London pleasures, had for
once in her life gone bank to town reluc-
tantly,
"It is curious that Robert and Clara can
live like hermits in the height of the season,"
she told her husband. But really this
morning, when we were leaving, I almost
envied then) their quiet domestic life in
that lovely place."
, And now the bond that held two lives
was broken, and joy was gone hke a dream
when one awaketh.
Mrs. Talbot was pacing slowly along the
terrace, depressed by these thoughts, when
a, shriek rang ont upon the summer air -
such a cry ot agony as her ears had never
heard until that hour. The sound came
from the open window of her sister's bed-
room, the ler/1 bow -window which was
one of Robert strell's numerous improve-
ments. She rushed into the house and ran
upstairs, but, quick an she was, Ambrose
Arden and the rector were there before her,
and the former was in the ant of breaking
open the door as she reached the landing.
He had implored Mrs. Hatreil to open
the door, and there had been no answer, $o
he put his shoulder againat he paneling and
wrenched the door off its hinges.
Clara Hatrell Wag sitting on the floor in
She middle of the room, with a heap of her
hushand's letters -her levee's leetera, for
they had all been written before marriage
-scattered abeam her. She eat with her
hands clasped upon her knees,her eyes fixed
and staring into vacancy. Her disheveled
hair fell about her shoulders in a wild con-
fusion, as if her hands had been clutching
and tearing at it. Emily Talbot knelt
down by her and spoke to her, trying to
soothe her, gathering up the tangled hair
with gentle hands, pressing tenderest kisses
upon her burning forehead ; but she took no
notice; her eyes remained fixed in that
sightless gaze, her fingers -were still locked
together in the same convulsive grasp.
She does not know me," cried Mrs,
Talbot, horrified at that awful look, which
made her sister's face like the face of a
stranger. "Oh, God, she has gorse mealld
* * * * 3 3 *
-ea
For more than aiX weeks after the
funeral Clara Hatrell lived in the darkness
of a distraught brain. More then once
during that period ahe hovered on the brink
of the grave, and there were dismal hours
in which her doctor and her nurses lost all.
hope. Life and reason were alike in perd,
and there was many a night when Ambrose
Arden sat in his study, trying to reed, but
never able to leave off listening for the
footfv.II that might being him fatal tidings.
During this season of fear he rarely vvent to
hie bedroom till the elm had risen above
She long level meadows toward Heeley
Bridge, end often the sunrise found hIrri
walking in the lane between his cottage and
River Lawn, It was the dreariest time of
his life sinee the shorb, sharp agony Of his
yourig Wife's illness. Re had nothing to
distract hie mime from the one subject,
whieh absorbed him. Hie little pupil had
been carried off by her duet, and was at
Weetgate-on-Sea with &bevy of eousins,
all older than herself. His ;sonar vacation
was being spent with the old grandfather.
in Radnorshire. He had planned the emit.
at the beginning of 1Wfre. TlatrelPs
The leel'e eompeny would have been irkseree
of
him in this time of fear. He preferred to
be alone while he famed the dread possibility
•of a fatal lotto, No one could have helped
hitt to bear his agony, the agony of fear for
the life of the woman he had loved in pa-
tient subjugation -m such perfect mastery
of himself eenever to have aweatened sustain,
• 1011 111 theme among whom he lived his every.
day Wee -diver sutce he &fib looked upon
her fair young fitoe. No one had ever
guessed his seeret ; not the husband,
whose fiery temper would have been gat*
to kindle into flame, lied there been but
the lightese coeuie for jealouey ; not the
wife, whoa purity would have been quit&
to take alarm at a word or aloolr ; not the
friends, whoa lived ix; intintate gelatione
with the family. NO one had suspected
hint, Yes, one perhaps, had divined he
secrete One pair of °leer, candid eyes had
read his heart, Once, in a moment ot ex-
pansion, hi a pupil and playfellow despoil
her arms round his neck and murmured in
his ear, "I love you, because you love
mother,"
CHAPTER V.
neess.'s maim s Mine TEARS AFTER.
• Cyril says he thinks I could write a
novel. I have read so many stories, BO
int:eh poetry, and. I am each a fanciful
creature. I hope that isn't another way of
saying that I am eilly and affected. One
never knows what a University man means.
They seem to have a language of their own,
made up of cynicism and contempt for
other people. Cyril is such a curious young
man ; he always seems to mean a great
deal more than be says. At ane, rate, he
has said ever so many times this summer
that I ought to be able to write a novel.
How I Wish I could I Hove delightful ie
must be to invene people and make them
alive '• to live in their lives and in their
adventures ; to move all over the world in
a beautiful day -dream, not dim and con-
tused and blurred and blotted with ,a.bsturrli-
ties, like the dreams of slumber, but clear
and vivid with the light that never was on
land or sea 1
I only wish Cyril were right; but, alas 1
he is wrong. I nave tried ever so many
times.- I have begun ataxy after story, and
have torn up my manuscript after the
second or third chapter. My heroine NOM -
ed so foolish and so feehle ; there was no
life in her. She was like those dear dolls 1
loved so that vrould never sit up, not even
against the wall, hut always flopped over
ma one side or the other, as if bheir lovely
waxen heads were too heavy for their awk.
ward sawdust bodies. • She was every bit
as limp. My hero was better, but I'm
rather afraid. he was too much, like Roches-
ter in "Jane 'Eyre," where be wa.sn't the
very image of Guy Livingston. What men
those were 1 Guy was nicer -he would have
showu off best at a dinner -party or a be.11.
Mr. Rochester cornea nearer One's heart.
How I could have loved him after he went
blind! Heppy Jane -to be so heroin and
steadfast, to go out into the cold, bleak
world and he nearly starved to death, and
then to have her own true love after all.
That was something like a destiny I
No, Pm afraid I shall never write a
novel. There is something wanting. In-
vention, I suppose. But I am very fond of
writing, so I have made up my mind to
write my own life. My adventures would
hardly fill a chapter -not if I began at my
cradle. I never went to a hard and cruel
school, like Jane Eyre. I never knew what
it was to be hungry, except after a long
walk ; and theu it was only a pleasant hun-
ger tempered with the knowledge that five-
o'dock tea and hot buns and brown bread
and butter were waiting for me at home.
No, 1 have no 'vicissitudes to write -about,
but I can write about those I love, my
impressions of people and scenery, and hooks
and animals. ^
How big a volume I could fill mien one
subject alone if I were to write about
mother and all her goodness to me, and
the happy years I have spent wall her for
my chief companion 1 It seems only yes-
terday that I was a child andshe used to
play with me at all sorts of games, just
as if she were anther little girl. 1 fancied
she was enjoying herself just as much as I
was. She would play at visiting, and din-
ners even, than which I can nob imagine
anythine more wearisome to a grown-up
person. To pretend to eat a grand dinner
off little wooden dishes, with planted food
glued on to them -curious puce -colored
Joints and poultrymmd pink -and -green tarts
and puddings -and to make conversation
and pretend to think everything nice, and
to ask or a second help of a wooden leg of
mutton. Row dreadfully bored she must
have ben! but she endured it all like is
martyr.
We used to play battledoor anti shuttle-
cock on the tennis lawn for hours at a
stretch, She could run faster than I till a
year or two ago. She says now that those
bateledoor contests kept her young. Every
one says how young and girlish she looks,
more like my elder sister than my mother.
Indeed, strangers generally take her to be
my sister,
How pretty she is ! pretty i$ too insigni-
ficant a word. • She is beautiful. I know
no one with such a lovely complexion -
clear and pale, with a rosy flash that lights
up her face suddenly when she is animated.
Her large hazel eyes are the loveliest I ever
saw; they have so much light in them; and
her smile is like glimmer sunshine. •
But I rnuet begin the story of my
life in those days when I was just old
enough to understand all that was going
on round, about me and to be sorry
when those I loved • wete sorry; and
that will bring me only too -soon to the
saddest pozvof my life -the -tme when my
father was takeh from us.
Let me tryr and recall him vividly in this
book while I am still able to remember him
exeetly as he was, so that when I am old,
and memory grows dim, I may find his
imege here, as one finds a rose in e. book,
dry and dead, bat with ita beauty and color
and velvet texture still remaining.
What a eplendid.looking man he was I
not like Gem' Livingston or like Edward
Fairfax Rochester. There was nothing
dark or rugged or repelsive aboat my dear
father, oral indeed, although one's heart,
alwaye goee out to a rugged, repulsive mat
in the pages of a novel, 1 don't know
whether one would take quite so kindly to
Brian de Bois Gilbert, or even to Rochos-
t8r iti real life. My efather WA,8 like
Dave:It of a pleasant countenance'ruddy
and fam.to gee. / can bring his face and
figure before me like a vision, when 1abut
my eyea in the „sanelyine , and fanoy bit
walking eerosa the,10,00mleet me with
the blue of the rivetabeleind Jilin, 9;1 need
to slie him so often Mahe by days before
liwent to Harley &rest,
lie was tall and breadashmeldered, up-
ighte with an easy vealk. He took long
stops as he came kerma the greets, swinging
his oak stir*, the stick he used in his long
TI
traitme to Reniey or Reading, or tterosie the
fields and wotele o eome oeteiftlie•Way
village. lie waa alrooatalweye eltt-of-elOoke
in muomer-eloue or with mother, ofteueet
Wt h mother-gvelkiug, &Mae, rowing,
pleyieg tennis.
.4e wee not too old for tennis, Yee,
there io the bright, frank face and the mil.
Ing Nue eyee-honest Englieh eyes, is
pertrait, inthe library, euel the photogreph
that hemp beside my hed may help to keep
his fbaberea clearly in my memory, but it
seems to me as if I never could, have for.
gotten hint even if there had litien Ito pio.
ture of him in existence. It iii hardly a
qnestion a memory. airs Noe Linea in mn
heart and oiled.
He was fond of me. OPP a my earlioot
r eoolieetions a ef lying at the end of a punt
among a beep of aoft ouehions; while my
father walked up and down whit the long)
heavy punt pole, aud moved the great,
olurnsy boat over bile bright blue- water,
sometimes turning into a quiet backwater,
where he would. moor his boob and sib and
smoke his pipe in the sunshine, and talk
to me in a slow, dreamy way between the
naffs o toleaceo, or let me talk to him.
Old how I need, to chatter in uty lifrtIe
shrill voice 1 and w hat questious I used
to ask him, question after queetion
and how puzzled he used to look some -
thrice; at my everlasting "why" and my
everlasting "what 1" Why dui the suri
shine ? or why did the •rigor meket the
boat move? or what were the flowers made
of? Dearest father, how " patient •he was
with me ! He used to laugh off my ques-
tions. He never explained things or taught
rne the names of the flowers, like Uncle
.A.mbrese. Our life together Wane perpetual
holiday. He taught me how to fish for
dace and mienows- out of the stern of the
boat, and 1 was verp happy with him. 'It
All seems like a dream of happiness now as
I look back upon it, but it is as fresh in,
my memory as the most,vivid dream front
which one has only just awakened.
Sometimes these happy mornings were
Sunday mornings, when mother was at
church. If Sunday happened to be a very
warm day, father would begin to yawn at
breakfast -time, and would eay he did not
feeldnolinecl ter church, and that he would
go on the water with Daisy ; and then I
used to clap my hands and rush off to get
my sun -bonnet, and before mother had
time to make any objeotions we were off to
the beat -house to get the pole and the
cushions. When the church -belle began to
ring from the old red•briok tower, we were
glidiug ever so far up the river, on the
may to our favorite backwater, where
father used to sit and read his Sunday
papers, while I worried the little, happy,
dancing fish under the willows.
Silvery, darting creatures, swift aslight
How glad I am now that I caught so few
few of them !
Yes, he was very good to me. He used
to talk of days vuheu I should be grownup,
and when he would take me to partiea aiad
"Your mother and I are saving
ourselves ug) for your first season, Daisy,"
he said; • that's why we are living like
hermits."
Yes, be was good, and I loved him dear-
; but perhaps I loved Ambrose Arden,
almost as well, only in another way.
I don't think any little girl of seven was
ever so honored as to have a man of vast
learning to teach her to read• and write,
unless it was some little prineese in the
+Jaye when a man like Eel:mime was not
thought too good to be tutor to a dauphin.
Uncle Ambrose taught me from the very
beginning. It was his whim and fancy to
do so. He is a man of such laboaious hab-
its that he takes no account of trouble; and
in all the years he has labored at my edu-
cation I can ?ever remember one impatient
word, or even one impatient movement, on
his part. I have lost patience often, 1 the
learner ; he, the teacher,'never.
I can just remember. how I came
to call him Uncle .e.mbrose. I need
to call him Mr. Arden-Misser Arden,
at least, for it was before I could,
speak plainly., One day be told me not to
call him mister; it was too formal between
him and me. "Call me Ambrose," he said;
and then mother looked up from her work
and said that would never do. A little
girl could not address a man of his years
and learning by his Christian name.
"I am not quite so elderly as I seem," he
said, laughing; but if you think Ambrose
too familiar, let it be an imaginary uncle,
and let her call me Thiele Ambrose. Will
that do ?"
"Yes,' said mother, "that will do very
well." So from that time forward he was
Uncle Ambrose, and he is 'Uncle Ambrose
to this city, just as kind and good and de-
voted as he waa when I was a little girl
with bare ernes, short petticoatmand a sun-
bonnet. He still occupiee himself about
my education, although he is a much more
distinguished person than when he began
the task. He has published three booke
since then, books of the very highest liter-
ary chartioter, which have made him a
reputation among ohe learned and the re-
fined in England and on the Continent.
Reviewers have written ales at him in several
languages ; his success has been un-
disputed ; his name is quoted with
Darwin and Spenset and Max Muller.
In a word, he is a famous man. And yet
he is content to go drudging on at the task
of educating a frivolous girl like me. We
are reading Duruy's "Ristoire des Grecs"
together this summer, and with it we are
reading Grote's " Plato " and a selection
of the Dialogues, in Jovvett's magnificent
translation. The little Greek that I know
helps me to appreciate the beauty, and
grace of blie English rendering. I should
like to kiss the hand that wrote that noble
book.
How suddenly, lioaca'awfully that happy
life with my father eaitne to an end 1 1 re-
member that summer morning when he lef t
us soon after brealefast to go to London
and completedihe parehase of Mr. Elores-
tan's land. We breakfasted in the garden,
in an open tent on eho lawn, and we were
all so happy. Father: talked of nothing
but She land and the new, garden which
was to be laid ouenu
inediately. The
ground heit all been laid out already on
pape'r. The plane Were in the library on
father's writingetable-dratrings of terraces
aad balustrade, vasee and seethes lightly
sketched in withthet beautiful touch
whieh makesedmot ,any house ehatming
before it is kin4 :Everybody had seen the
plans, andhliad talleetleabout them, and
argued and -ativised 1 and my dear father
had talked them all down ' with his grand
ideas of an Italian garden, Cade Ambrose
quoted Lord Becou's Mosey on gardens. I re-
membered the very worde a year ago when I
began te read Bacon. They came baok to
me like the memory of a dream. I was
only a child, but I used to sit and listen to
everything that was said, and think and
wonder.
Father kiresed Me at the gate 'before he
got into the -cart that Wee to take hire to
the station. Thank God for that kies 1 He
• looked. batik at mother and me se he drove
away. lie looked ' round es ua With his
beautifel smile, and celled oat, gaily, I
shall brikthe title deeds home for you to
loek at" .
Children Cry tor Pitcher's CaAtertk
Ile bad reeked niothor to meet him tot the
etattoia in the eveuieg, ha wee to drive
herponies', end she wee to take ine with
her if she liked, On tineee long munroer
dap I steed to alt up till nine e'edock, anti
I used to eft witit mottles: and father while
they dined. My aunt Talbot probeeted
emnetitnes againet what she ealled overin.
dulgence, and said 1 wee being apoiled,anci
ehould, grow up old-fashioned. 1 don'e
know about the spoiling, but perhaps I
have grown up old-fashioned. 1 geuld not
have been neother'e companion in ell thokie
happy years if I had not been fond of many
things that my, COPSi11 don't care for,
We went to the statioe, mother and I,
in good time to meet the train that Was
title at a, few Ininutee before eeven. We
were there about a quarter of an hour before
the train was duo; and we walked up and
down the long, narrow pletform in the
evening sunlight, talking about father and
his enthusiasm about, the new garden.
"It was my faacy, in the fiat in-
state:se," said mother ; ' but your father ia
so good to me that I have but to express a
wish, and be immediately makes it his Own.
If I were to ask for a roe's egg, like the
Badroulbadour, I believe he would
start of to Africa to look for one."
I remember laughing at the idea of the
egg,
• " A roe's egg would be as big as all our
house, naothen Wouldn'e it be funny if
someone sent us one?
There were very few people at the station,
and we walked up and down and telkeel
merrily as if we had been m our own gar-
den. Preeently an electric bell began to
ring, and then a porter came out and rang
a bell on the platform in front of the little
waiting -room, end then the train came
slowly in, and mother and I stood looking
at the faces in the carriage windows,
There was seldom any delay in &diet( out
father among the arrivals. Re was alwaye
one of the first to open the door, and
always en the alert to see us.
But on this evening we looked for
him hi vain, Three people got out
got out of the train, and the train went
on, and mother and1 were left standing on
the platform, disappointed and unhappy.
The Ilene train to stop at Lamford Was not
due until ten minutes to nine -too late for
dinner, too late for the sunset on the river
-a long long time for us to wait.
"I must drive you home, Daisy," said
my mother, " and then I can come back to
meet your father."
I tried to persuade her to wait there and
let me wait with laer-the idea of home and
bed -time was distasteful to me. I could
see that my mother was vexed and troubl-
ed. I clung to her as she moved to leave
thestaetion.
„Ltus wait
for father; I'm not tired,
Pm not hungry. Do let us wait for him,
and alt go home together."
It was a lovely evening; the sun was
still e bright ; the station -master's little
warden was full of sweet-soented flowers-.
roseeeclve carnatioas, and sweet pease.
"There may be a telegram at home,"
said my mother. "Yes, I have no doubt
he has sent a telegram."
The idea seemed to decide her. She put
me into the oarriage, and drove home as
fast as the ponies could go. I was
a little soared at the pace we travelled along
the dusty roads and lanes; but we reached
home safely, and then came a fresh disap.
pointment. No telegram. d
I was sent to bed at half past eight, and
mother went back to the station. I couldn't
sleep, but lay listening and waiting in the
summer dusk in my room next mother's
dressing room. I got my good nurse,
Broomfield, to leave my door open, and I
listened for the return of the carriage.
When 1 beard the wheels I ran out upon
tha lending in my nightgown, and stood at
the top of the atairs listening, expecting to
hear iny-father's voice direotly the door was
opened, bat I only heard my mother speak-
ing to the butler.
"Your master has not come by the nine
o'clock train, Simeon. There is no other
train till after midnight, You will have to
sit up for him, and to arrange a comfortable
supper. He may not have found time to
dine in -London.
I ran downstairs in my nightgown, bare-
footed, and tried to comfort poor mother,
for I could tell by her voice that she was
unhappy. She took me in her arms and
cried over -me, and we went upstairs to-
gether, she eteolding me a little for leavirt
my bedroom, bnt not really angry. Iknew
that she was hardly thinking aboub me. I
knew that she was miserable about my
father.
That was only the beginning of .trou.
bie. She was up all night, walking about
her own nom or going downstairs ' and
out into the garden, and to the gate, to
listen for his coming. All night at inter-
vals I heard her going np and down, and the
opening and shutting ot the heavy hall
door. The butler and on,e-of the maids sat
up all night. Mother told Simeon she felt
sure his master would come home, by road,
in the middle of the night even, rather than
leave her in suspense. Such a thing as his
tweaking an appointment with her had
never happeeed before.
It was broad daylight when I cried my-
self to sleep -so unhappy for mother's sake,
so frightened, without knovelua why, about
my father.
Mother left the house early next morning
to go to London with Ambrose Arden. She
did not come back fdr three days, and then
my auut Emily came with her, and mother
Was so altered that I hardly knew her.
She was dressed in black, and her pale face
had a stony look that made me tremble,
She *mealy spoke to me or noticed me,
but my aunt took inc on her lap, and told
me that a great sorrow had come upon me.
My father was dead.
I would not believe it for ever so long.
I had heard of people dying, but they were
old people who had been 111 a, long time, or
weak little children, and even they had
been ill for a geed many days and nights
before the end came. But my father was
well and strong and heppy when he sat in
the cart waving us goodbye with his whip.
1Vly aunt saw that I did. not believe or did
riot understand her; and she told me slowly
how my father had died suddenly in London
when he was on his way to a lawyer's
office to buy IVIr. EIoresban's land. He was
dead within a few hours after he drove
away from our gate. I had no father now.
Nothing could ever give him back to me
upon this earbh, If I were to spend ell my
life in prayerm never to rise up off my knees
vehile I lived, my prayers wouid not give
him beak to me for five mioutets, would oot
gain me so maeh as the sound, of his dear
voice calling me from the 'twin
My aunt took me to London with her
that af ternoon, and 1 thinle what I felt meet
in the midat of my sorrow was the thoughb
that mother did not Mind parting with me.
She hardly looked; she put away my arms
from her wick tiniest °energy When I oiling
to her crying, and entreating her to let me
stay With her. Rer eyes looked over my
head when he said goodbye to inc at the
door, ins if she saw something a long way
off, some hortibld thing that froze her blood
and made her due*.
t110 228 neteelleUtira)
for Inf
nte; and Children.
'"‘Cateitetittift so wellsdaptedto children tliet
1 recommend it: me superior to any preheription
!mown to me," I, 4.. Anemia, 11,3).,
111 So. Oxford St., Breokten, la.
"The use of '0astmea' is so universal and
its merits so well known that it seems e. work
of supererogation. to endorse it. Few arethe
intelligent families who do hot keep Castor*
within easy reach."
CAuLos Mansur*: D. D.,
New Yetis City.
Late Pastor Bloomingdale Iteformed Church.
myjuswserrinv:tt4;t87.t0:0:11400173:3:14,,:aiDuoC :it 3,10 szarri ilites I: IC oda nisei •
itog di
"rod seeeracyrT—ars 1-haveNreewcomIrontr endodk
your °tweaks; end shall always coeeinue 50
do so as it has invariably »reduced beneficial
"The 'Winthrop," 4;;Otb. Street and IthAye., tty
Tan CEMPATIV. COUPANY, 77 linuMAY STragam, New Tom
..471A.444. tiZ4T•1.1S4I,3:YS*0
entlere es.
s.
eialigillisaaadt'detat'el-Sere
W(l'rttrbtt.._ewe.
if allowed to run, will destroy the lming to
- Throat and Lungs, weaken the system and
invite the Consumption Germ.
SC tt9S En111151011
imansweanimmasEezr Azzumumnars,
of Cod-liver Oil, with hypophosphites of lime
and soda, builds up the system, overcomes
Chronic Coughs and Colds, and strengthens
the Lungs. Physicians, the world over, endorse
it.
SCOTT'S EMULSION Is the most nourishing food known to
science. It is Cod-liver Oil rendered palatable and easy to assimilate.
Prepared by Soon & Berme, Belleville. All Druggists, 60 cents and $1.
';`....etattata ehandrafetl*Ifee‘
.10
-Ard-Wdr heitaideM
44,
NERVOUS, DESPONDENT, DISEASED MEN.
T. E. GLEASON. T. E. GLEASON, 00. ROLLINS. 0.0. ROLLINS.
re;
r
11116
-
k
°;;1‘ • -1
• EP
Before Treatment, After Treatmeet. • Before Treatment. .After Treatment.
Emissions, Varlcocele, Seminal Weakness, Self -Abuse, Synhillse
Gieet Stricture, Unnatural Discharges, Loss of Vital Fluid in
Impotency, Sexual and Mental Weakness, Kidney
and Blander Diseases Positively CURED OR NO PAY.
10 Years in Detroit.. 200,000 Cured.
Young or Middle Yon have led a gay life or indalged in the vices of early youth. Fon feel
Aged Man. the symptoms stealiug over you. Self abuse or later exces,see neve broken
down your system. lifentotly, pleyetearly cold sexually you arellOt the man Tau met( to bis ot
should be. Lustful practices reap rich. harvest. Think of the future. Will you heed the
danger signals? Aro you. nervOne and weak; despondent and gloomy; specks before eyes;
backweak enclaidneys irritable; palpitation. of heart; dreams and losses at night; ectas
ment nrine; weakened manhood; pimples on face; eyes sunken and cheeks hollow: poor
meanory; carevrorn expressionaVaricocele; tiled in morxiing; lifeless; distrustful; lack en-
ergy strength and ambition. Our New Method Treatment will positively cure sem 15 will
make a man 02 1011 =dine will opea anew. lia guarantee to carayou or refund all money pa V.
l-tuo names used without written consent. 61,000 paid for any case we take anti caanot
CUM.
SNATCHED FROM! THE CRAVE -A Warning From the Living.
Emissions "At 15 I learned a bad habit. Had IOSSOE1 fOl• seven years. Tried four doetors
Cured. and nerve tonics by the score, without benefit; I became, nervone 'Meelc
5. friend who had been cared by Drs, Kennedy as Eagan of a eimilar disease, advised me
to try them. 1 did so., and itt two inontlus was positively enrecl. This was eight years
ago. I aa now married earl have two healthy children."
0
Varicocele "Variciocele, the restdt of early vice, made lifen;Wise;LEWIS,abe. fteleagiw".ealawr
Cured. 'mous, eyes sunken,,bashfal in society, hair thin, dreams and tones at night. no
ambition. The "Golden Monitor" opened my eyes. • The Now Method Treatment of Drs.
Kennedy &Horgan cumin:10 in a few weeks."
II
LL
Syphilis "I'his terrible blood disease was in my eystem foreig:liPtBElarr. °N'iadwIar'Mich.tailennir
Cured. miry for two years, brit the disease returned. Eye e red, pimples end blotches on
the skim, ulcers in the month and ontongue, hone pains, fainter out of ham weekness, etc.
Ily brother, who had been cured of Meet and arteture by lers. ICannedF & liciaaara tetoras
mended them. They mired me in a. few weeks, and I thank God 1 consulted them. No
return of the disease in six years." W. P. IL, Jackson, each.
A Minister The Bev. W. E. Sparks, of Detroit, says: "I know of no disease so injurious to
Speaks. the mind, body and soul of young men as that of Self Abuse. I have sent; many
victims of this lustful habit to Drs. Kennedy, &Kergan for treatment,. I caa heartily en -
'dome their Nem itfethod Treatment which cared then: when all else failed."
A Doctor "I know nothing in medical science so efficient for the cure of Soltilit rind
Recommends Seedier Div:trees as tha Esw Method 7Yeattn,gt of Des. Koneedy &Kergan. elan,
It. cases which had baffled scores of physicians were cared in 0 few weeks. I
have seen this with my own oyes and know it to be it fact."
Dein ri9.n.
I. Have you been minty? gee your Blood been diseased? 1,.reytn"lB
weak? M.D.
Dyou
It pa ui desire to be a 2111,1? Are yon contemplating marriage? Oar .N.eto Atethod Treat-
ent willpositively cure you, cures Guaranteed or No Pay. Consultation Fr; e.
Non:atter who has treated you write for an honest opiniontree of charge. Charges
rearsonable. Books Free. -"The Golden Monitor" (illustrated). on Diseases of Mon, En-
close postage, two cents. Sealed.
agrNo Names used without Written Consent. Private. No Medicine
Sent C. 0. B. No Names on Boxes or Envelopes. Everything
Confidential. Question List for Rome Treatment and
Cost of Treatment, Free.
Drs. Kennedy 86 Kergan5 148 Shelby Street, D9irell,14101).
feerniaWa legaeget eireeaece'VnelGV'"
MYSTERIOUS SHOOTING AFFAIR.
• --,
A Tenon to Shooting- ee Mehl e f fletead ed
• in Mystery.
A despatch from. Toronto says e-pn
Saturday night 18-year•old Frank B.
Westwood was ehot dowu by an unknown
Man on the ateps of hie father's regidenee
an Jameson avenue, Shortly before 11
o'clook the young hien want to answer the
door hell. On opening the door a revolver
was pregented an him without warning and
diseharged. Westwood felt backwards
into the doorway. A 44ma1ihre bullet) ho,a
entered his body sonic distance below the
nipple of his righb breast, The aseallant
made good his escape. The whole affair is
shrouded in mystery. Neither the vvoued.
ea hoy uov his reletives could think of any
Motive for the crime. At o late hour
Sunday night Westwood lay at the paint
of death. Westwootre home, which is at
the corner of JemeSoo avenue, it ono of the
finest in Perkdale. It stands a hushed
yindri back from the street; and is fronted
by a etroth of betentafaI greensward Ned
Sheds trees, and approached by e well
kept semieeiroular carriage drive, with
latticed footwalka
Contract Rates.
&Mira Saunders-" How remelt fee' a hair
010 and shave 1»'
Barber*" Fifty cents an hour.°'
The ratepayers of Berlie Ont., voted an
by-lew on Friday to eettelaish 8. neW piib
Ito park. The bylaw wit. carried by a
majority of tvvo hundred and Sa*en1r61a.