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The Herald, 1912-06-28, Page 6rowing on the little lake that refieoted• the stars of heaven thee twinkled in 'this''" blue dome overhead; drives over the plea sant country roads, all too enchanting to this honest -hearted youth, who founq heaven on earth, in the glances of a girl's•' dark, dreamy eyes. The summer days came to an end all too soon, and the lawyer and itis family returned to London. Olz, dark days to Jack Clyde; he found life unendurable without the girl he had, learned to love. A few mouths later, he went on to Ln o - don, heavy-hearted, because his numerous' letters had never been replied to, seeking the lawyer's daughter at her magnffieent city home at once, upon his arrival. He reached the mansion just ae the voung girl was coming down the marble steps, leaning upon the arm of e young and handsome man. and the eight nearly took Clyde's breath away, with jealousy and fsar. He sprung before her. holding out his hand, entreatingly, to her, huskily ealltug her by name. She gave him one cold, stony glance of,. haughty surprise, and drew baok her dainty skirts from contact with his dusty, travel -stained clothes. "Do nothing with the fellow—let hiui pass on," she said, calmly, to her frown ing escort; "he is a person whom I met at Beach Grove, while summerin'- there, and to whom I -was civil; he has taken; advantage of it, as people of that elass generally de." And she passed on, leav- ing Jack Clyde standing there with his heart turned to stone in his bosons.,. From that moment Jack Clyde had re fierce hatred of women, in general—dark- eyed ones especially. No wonder his mother and sister trem- bled as they noticed how like the beauti- ful young stranger was in form and fea- ture to 'that other one," as they always called her now -a -days. By chance Jack discovered the stran- ger's presence in their household; in passing his sister Molly's door, he had stopped a moment to wish her goodnight, and stood staring in the most undisguised amazement from the threshold. at the lovely young creature on the white couch,` over whom his mother and Molly were bending. His mother harried to his side in great anxiety; and, in a, few brief words the situation was explained to Jack. "You know I couldn't do different than to take this poor, pretty stranger in, Jack," said his mother, in a hesitating, apologetic tone: "could I?" "No—I suppose not," he answered, thus directly appealed to. "You are not so very angry are you, Jaek?" she asked, earnestly. "Why, how could I be, under the Cir- cumstances, mother," he responded. As the days rolled by, contrary to litre. Clyde's expectation, Jack took quite an interest in the fair stranger. For long weeks Irene lay between life and death in the humble farm -house, and i as the days dragged their slow length by,. the mother's eyes were opened, at length, to a strange discovery, and that was, that her son had learned to love, with the deep, passionate love of his heart, the lovely stranger, fate had placed intheir care. "I can scarcely believe it," she mutter- ed to herself, when the idea first present- ed itself to her mind; "that was the rock on which he fell once before; surely he will know better than to stumide against it a second time—yet, with most men, once a fool, always a fool, where a pretty face is concerned." "When do you think she will regain consciousness, mother?" Jack asked, one day. "Poor girl! her ravings cut me to the heart." The ravages of the fever will not last much longer,' she returned. "I :should say in a very few days now the crisis will have been passed and she will Ise en the, mend. It will not be very longthen fere she is. ready to leave us." "Leave us!' he echoed, starting -ffgr his, theirs and she saw' a sudden pell cross the brown/sees of her boy's thee* "Did you expettt her to stay here 'fors ever?" she asked, sharply. "She must have a home somewhere, and people who are most anxious over her." T had not thought of that. I did not look at the future, only the present," be said, very slowly; and the keen ears, list- eniug, detected a great huskiness in his usually cheery voice. The farmer's wife walked quickly to her boy's side and placed her hands on his broad shoulders. "Let me give you a word of advice, Jack," she said, slowly; "do not fall in love with this beautiful stranger, for a fine lady like that, is not for you, for she is a fine lady; her hands are like velvet, and her clothes cost more money than we have ever seen. Take your mother's advice, do not let your heart go out to her. There is a very good reason why 11111 ��r1/i 111 I� J�.., h4 k ("y-'AIRF;y���� Refined to absolute { purity ---sealed tight and protected 1y from any possible contamination -- e in this new 5 -Pound Package is the cleanset, purest sugar you can buy. Each Package contains 5 full pounds of sugar. Ask your Grocer for it. Canada Sugar Relining Co. Limited. EXTRA -Ye Old Sneer I.00fc- or ma. Tim CANADA St8A;5 R6FINlrlti e0. sou should not care for her," Mrs. Clyde went on. "She's married, Jack." "Married!" he ejaculated, fairly ,spring - ins; from his seat; "why what makes you think so, mother?" "On the day she was brought here she 'wore a wedding -ring on her finger," said Mrs. Clyde; "it fell from her hand, and I put it away for her until she recovers. That is why I repeat to you, my son, do not let sour heart go out to her." Mrs. Clyde's warning had come too late. Bey son's heart had gone out to Irene, with a passionate love that frightened even himself by its intensity. Re began to look forward with dread to the hour when she would leave them. It was at the end of the third week that Irene awoke to the realization of events transpiring about her. "Ain I awake. or—or—dreaming?" she murmured, faintly, struggling up to a sit- ting posture, and gazing in bewilderment about bei; her glance resting upon the honest, toil -worn faces, grouped about the unfamiliar room. Mrs. Clyde was by her side in an in- stant. "0f course you don't know where you are, dearie," she said, "this is a strange place to you. We found you lying in a nest of blue bells in the clover meadow, under the old oak tree. You was in a deep swoon. My husband picked you up and brought you here—that was nigh onto three weeks ago. You've been here ever since, down with the brain fever; why, there was one time we thought you were going to die, we did indeed, dearie." "0h, wily" did you save me!" sobbed e, turnipg her face to the wall. "It j d have been -a deed of mercy to let go d.,,woman was.'agreatly shocked. "bluets have hart , deep sorrow *in y r life, to say such words as. those," the said. "1 have had one of the cruelest, most bitter sorrows that ever wrecked a life," moaned Irene; "and the world narrowed down tograve. That is all I can say for myself.' you friends in this part of the country, if I may make bold enough to ask?" enquired the farmer's wife, pity- ingly. Irene shook her dark, curly head, drear- ily. Y am east adrift from home and friends—forever,' she sobbed. "In all the wide world, no young girl ever met with such a strange and cruel fate as I niet with. I never offended Heaven to de- serve it; then why was such woe visited upon Inc? It was unjustl" "God knows best why," said the far- mer's -wife. "If I could give you a word of advice, I would say:—go back to your home and' your friends; no matter what caused you to leave `hem." "You mean well. Your advice is kind; but you do not know all," murmured Irene, burying her face in her hands. "I can never go back. A11 the bridges are burned behind me. No one who ever knew me shall see my face again." Their entreaties to tell them whom she was, and from whence she came met with a firm denial. "Know me only as Irene—a hapless strange% to whom you was kind," she said, "and after I have gone from you, pray for me, as you would pray for a lost soul in great danger." And those strange words haunted the farmer's wife for many a long day after. CHAPTER XXXi. You must not talk any more now, my dear," said Mrs. COlyde, soothingly, "if Yea do, all the good effects of the medi- cine that has been given you will be lost. "You have such a good, kind doctor, dearie," she went on, "and he takes such an interest in you. It is strange how we happened to find out about this doctor;" she went on, "it came about in this way:— "Only yesterday, a young man rode up to the old well by tho roadside, and ask ed if he might water his horse. Jonas that's my husband—fetched a pail, and just then they noticed the horse was lame. • You'd better stop with us the night, sir,' says Jonas, 'that beast needs a rest.' He was impatient to be moving on, but be saw for himself Jonas was right. "'I cannot give you much accommoda- tions," Jonas went on, apologetically 'for the best room le our little farmhouse has already been given up, to a stranger —a young 'woman whom wue, picked up ill by the roadside. She has been here onto death, ever. since.' "In an instant he was all attention. Row he questioned Jonas. Why ono would have thought ho had never heard of such a thing as a woman fainting, then being` taken with a fever; but we soon found out why he was so anxious to know all about it—he turned out to be a doctor. He declared that he must see you, right away, which was done; and he gave you such powerful medicine, that you were helped right away as he said you would be. • Have her dressed and propped up with pillows, sitting in that chair when I come to see her to -morrow morning,' he said, pointiug to the one by the win- dow there. So, to carry out bis instruc- tions I must hgtve you up and dressed— at once.' (To be continued.) iii -u. be, -one of the 108 frrners w}io will receive our -Prize CorjEtest check5? THERE will be twelve cash prizes in each, of the nine provinces (108 in. all) in the 1912 Prize Contest for Canadian Farmers. The 1911 Contest was so successful in awak- ening interest in the use of Concrete on the farm, that a second contest, in which three times as many prizes are offered, was decided upon for this year. The Contest this year is divided into three classes, "A," "B" and "C," and there will be four prizes in each class. (First prize, $50; Second prize, $25; Third prize, $15; Fourth prize, $10.) Thus there are three $50 Prizes, three $25 Prizes, three $15 i prizes, and three $10 Prizes, for each province. lDESCRIPTION OF CLASSES "' " " a '" " " "" ' "' "T In Each Class there will be First, Second, Third and Fourth Prizes ($50, $25, $15, and $10) for Each Province. COUPON' 'a CLASS "A"—Prizes to be awarders to the Mut farmers In each province who use moat a "Canada" Cement on their farms In the year 1912. CLASS "n"—Prizes to be awarded to the lour farmers In each province who send photo ,,. graphs of the best concrete work done with 'Crusade' Cement on their farms in 1912. CANADA CEMENT COMMNY LIMITED }ierald Building, Montreh Please send me full partic the 1912 Farmers' Prize Cont a free copy of your book "N, Farmer Can Do With Conotet • :lame 1' CLASS C"—Prizes to be awarded to the tour farmers in each province who send In the best descrijition, telling how any piece of concrete work was done with "Canada" Cement. (Entries for this prize Must be accompanied by photo- s graphs of the work.) • Don't think that you must use a large quantity of cement in order to win aprize. The quantity of cement used does not count in Classes "l3" t and C." Many of last years prize winners used very little cement. When you enter the Contest, you have a chanes to 'win a cash / prize of $50 as well as the certainty that you will add a permanent improvement to your farm, If you haven't a copy, be sure and ask for our book, "What the Farmer Can Do With Concrete." It will not only suggest many improvements that you can use in entering the Contest, 1 but will tell you all about the use of concrete on -the farm. 1 just write your name and address on the attached coupon, or use a postal card, oqd we will send full particulars of the Prize Contest and a copy of "What the Parma Can Do With --Concrete" to you • absolutely fres Address Publicity Manager Canada Cement Company Limited „ s of and i tthe I Address.,.., 444444444444 ara it 30-35 Herald Bldg. - Montreal ///i, G' i /.'/� i ii%�/ �,/i J; i✓i /// raj/'.. i%''-// /'/nr"i%:?•'-;',!0,,ee r Wj, 0 A UTTL CNI�D'S PRYER OR, THE DUEL IN THE GLEN. ,CHAPTER XXVIII.--(Cont'd) With a quick, impulsive movement, the woman knelt down and kissed the hens of Irene's garment. "Of all the world you alone have shown me a kindness. If 1 can ever repay it I will. I can never forget you, lady. Do not think I was always like this," she went on, "once I was as pretty a romping lass as ever the sun shone on. My curse was, that I married, and, worshipped my Husband. My devotion soon wearied him, and he deserted me. For ten years T searched tyre whole world over for him; and one day I met him in the streets of London. Wild with joy, I flew into his arms, he struek me and spurned me frgm him. Mad with rage and pain, I picked I. up a stone and hurled it at him, and as I fled down the street, I heard some one crying out that I had put hie eyes out— blinded him for life. I ran and ran, never turning back. I never saw him again. "My name is on this envelope," she said, "if you should ever write me to the address on there, I will get it. I found work there once, and there I shall seek work again." Irene took it from her and without look- ing at it slipped it into her pocket. Thus they parted. Ah, if Irene had but glanced at that address had she but dreamed who that woman was, what a world of misery might have been spared her. CHAPTER XIX. It was a long, dreary night -on and on the lonely lady walked, surely the saddest creature on which the pitying moonlight ever fell. At length the first faint streaks of early day broke faint and pink with a tinge of gold in it, over the eastern huts. How far Irene traversed she never knew; there was a strange, terrible feeling in her head; a red mist seemed to float be- fore her eyes and obscure everything; a sound like the rushing of waters filled her ears. She hurried on through green meadows and bright, sunny fields where birds were singing, and children playing as though there was no such thing as snrrow in the world, sorrow more bitter than death. She walked past them and the little chil- dren stopped from their play and gazed after the lovely, strange lady, whose eyes looked so strangely bright, and whose face was as white as death. Irene reached a point where two roads met. It did not matter she told herself, which one she took, all places were the -ame to her. She walked down the hieh- oad, then a lovely green lane charmed er—she crossed it, and found herself in clover meadow, and through the trees he could see a farm -house. Although it as very early. the inhabitants were astir, blue line of smoke curled heavenward rom the old brick chimney, and the dairy aids with their pails over their white rms were hurrying forth to the morn. g's milking. "Oh, how much I would give for a caught of new milk!" she thought, "for am feeling weak and 111 unto death." e remembered how Iong it was since she d tasted food or drink. "1 must rest moment before I shall be able to reaela .farm house," she thought, and with a of :exhaustion Irene sank down; ,to rest hong the blue bells' that grew at the t of an old oak tree, thinking the rest fight de her good, might take the burn - g pain and hent from her brain, the uel mist from her eyes. She looked down the long, white, hard iglu -road she had come, little dreaming at she would never repass it. The strangest sensations came over her; e earth and sky seemed to meet, the reen world to whirl around her. It never ceurred to her she was ill from long sting, want of sleep, and sorrow. Strange ancies cane to her, strange voices called er from the trees and hedges, strange aces leered at her from the green boughs; nee or twice she cried aloud, then laughed t herself for her own fears: but tbe aughter died away and the fears grew reater. Her hands were so cold—perhaps it was he cold, glistening dew in the hearts of he blue bells that had chilled them. Her ead burned, and the breath that passed 'er lips seemed like a flame of fire. The dark, curly head sunk lower until t rested on the long lush, grass, her eyes losed to think. The golden sun as it rose higher in the .rue heavens fell upon the white, upturn - d face. Irene's hands were closely locked •gether, low moans issued from her white fps. She tried to leek the future in the face, he terrible future, but her thoughts wan- ered. She closed her dazed eyes to the glare .f the sunlight. She had a dim conscious- ness of hearing the blithe whistle of farm Iaborers as they crossed the fields to their work, then all became blank. It happened quite by chance that Far- mer Clyde and his wife crossed the clover fields that morning. They were in a high dispute in regard -to money matters es usual. Those clover fields want mowing, and then there is the haymakers that will have to be paid off to -night. No, Marthy, 0; the new gowns for the girls must wit a bit." "Depend on it, Jonas, the girls shall ave it," declared his wife, energetically. 'There's to be a grand picnic in the vil- age a week from to -day: Squire Jones' aughters will be there, the Higgins girls, th their fine new spring hats, the Jane's and the Pendleton's—all the best people hereabouts—and d'ye think, Jonas, :11 let my girls go lookin' like dowdys? guess now" " 13t.t llioney's se tight, Marthy," grnmb- d the farmer. It is when it gets into your clutches," etorted his wife. "But now mark me, ones, I'll have the girls a new gown piece or I'll know the reason why. har'Il bo war, Jonas, do you hear,—war, '11— " The wife's shrill tongue came to a sud- dn standstill—something very like a gasp roke from her lips. Rae 'sharp eyes had iscerned something very like the outlines t a human form lying among the tall rase. "Jonas," she cried shrilly, grasping the ,emer's arm in affright, "what on earth that?" "It looks like the figure of a woman!" claimed the astonished farmer. ---"Why, ricGeorge, y r as it gained woman," spot, he wife ose at his heels. In a moment the farmer's wife was down her knees beside the prostrate form, shing the dark, damp curls back from e white face. "It's a young girl!" she i,ed, "Oh, Jonas, do look and see how etty she is, her face is like an angel's, hat are you standing there staring for, nth your hands in your pockets?" she invalided, sharply. 'Pith. her up and bring her to the ease, VII sec what ran be done for the Nur le re." 'Wtted:se it be better, Marthy, if we took the girl down to the village tavern?" mildly suggested the farmer. "Will you hold your tongue, Jonas, and do as you are bid?" cried his wife, "The tavern, indeed, for that grasping old landlord to run up a bill on the poor, pretty creature, when like as not she hasn't ri cent in her pocket. Lift her up, and be lively, too; don't you see she's in a dead faint?" The .angry light in the dark eyes turned upon him, warned the farmer that it were better to obey without further re- monstrance. He plainly saw that his wife had made up her mind. He lif.ed the slim figure with alacrity, and in a few minutes they had reached the farm -house, cutting across lots through the wheat field A young girl sat on the low steps of the Porch paring apples. She sprung to her feet, scattering the fruit in all directions, and staring in amazement at the strange spectacle that met her view—her father striding hurriedly along the path bearing a girlish figure in his arms, her mother following up the rear. "For mercy sake, pa!" exclaimed the young girl, "who in the world have you got there? Who- is she, and what's the matter with her?" "Molly!" exclaimed her mother, sharply, "you are like your father, for all the world. Stop staring and asking ques- tions. Run quick, and see if there is hot water on the stove, and bring me the peppermint -bottle and the mustard -jar, towels, hot blankets, and help me get this poor, young creature's clothes off and into bed, and—" Don't give the girl so many orders at once, mother," expostulated the farmer. "Don't you see you have muddled her head so she don't know wnat co do first:" The good woman started kitehenward in high dudgeon. "It's always the way; if I want any- thing done, I have to do it myself!" she cried, angrily, "You two are a pretty pair of drawback for a smart woman like me to be tied to!" And she flounced out of the best room, leaving the lovely stranger to the care of curious Molly. She returned almost immediately, fairly loaded down with bottles, blankets and et ceteras. The farmer was hastily invited to va- cate the room; then the work of restor- ing the beautiful stranger began at once. Slowly the dark eyes opened. It was pitiful to see the great tear drops stand- ing on the long, dark lashes. "I'm afraid the poor thing has the fe- ver; exclaimed the farmer's wife, pity- ingly. ityingly. "It she has, she won't be able to leave her bed for many a long day." The beautiful eyes regarded her with a frightened look in their Clark depths, the crimson lips babbled empty nothings. Now and then a word or a sentence could be distinguished. "Lite was so hard to bear," the quivering lips muttered over and over again. "Why," said the farmer's wife sudden- ly, as she gazed on the little white hand straying restlessly' to and fro on the coverlet, "I have been faking her for a young girl-ebe is married. Look, Molly, she wears a wedding ring. I am afraid the poor, ppretty creaturehas seen .acme Yenta trouble," Mrs. CeedaS eonclluder e, and er kind, motherly heart went ont' to ter in warmest sympathy. "Are you going to let her stay here, mother?" asked Molly. "Do you think I would turn her out in- to the high -road?" inquired the farmer's wife, curtly. "You have forgotten about Jack, mo- ther," the girl said. "lie will be home tonight. This stranger looks so much like—her." For an instant the color left the ruddy face of islrs. Clyde, "Ah! I had forgotten Jack," elle mut- tered, under her breath, "still, it cannot be helped now. She can be taken to your room, Molly-. and Jaek can come and go without having seen her, or even knowing a stranger is heneath this roof." "Ab, mother," whispered Molly, "think what would happen if he should by any chance discover her." "There is but one thing we could do," returned her mother, "and that is—to fare the matter, Molly. This poor girl cannot belp it if her face does resemble—that other one." The farmer was quickly summoned, end wrapped in the long, 'Horse, warm blan- kets, Irene was conveyed to Mollies room, and not a moment too soon, for as they were descending the stairway, the sound of carriage wheels was beard without, and an open buggy dashed up to the front porch, and, throwing the reins to a boy who had come up from the fields, a young man sprung from the vehicle, and strode into the pleasant, airy kitchen. "Father—mother—girls—where are you?" cried the young man, in a deep, impati- ent voice. "It is—Jack." murmured the farmer's wife, hurrying forward. CHAPTER XXX. The home to which fate had drifted Irene, had never had but one shadow cross it, and it had happened in this way. Only two summers before, strangers from London had answered the old far- mer's advertisement that he would take a private family to board for the sum- mer at tbe farm•bonse. And a few days later, a London lawyer, his wife and daughter arrived. The girl was as beau- tiful' as a dream; no wonder she took the hearts of those who saw her by storm at first sight. "1 am sure I shall die of ennni." groaned the lovely heiress, as she walked under the blossoming apple boughs with Molly. "What amusements do you have hero?" Amusements?" echoed Molly; "why Spelling -Bees, once in a while, a picnic in Piney Woods, and balls." "A country ball," murmured the young lady; "ugh. I can imagine nothing so stupid. Are there any young gentlemen about?" No not for miles around, except my brother Jack," replied the girl," "A farmer, I suppose," returned her. companion, elevating her dainty. arched brows, "Dnfortunately, no; Jack hates farm- ing," replied brolly; "he pleaded so bard with father and mother to be allowed to go to college, that they consented. Jack is what we are not—educated.' Her companion laughed; her black eves gleamed. Ab, well, a college fellow was better to flirt with than no fellow at all during those long, monotonous summer days. She was rather pleased with the great, tall, stalwart, handsome Jack, when she saw him, and he did just exactly what she expected him to do—fell head over ears in love with her at first sight.. There were long days spant under the blossoming apple trees; in the sweet- smelling orchard; long rambles in the deep stillness of the gloaming, and in the moonlight, lietening to the nightingale sing in the tanglewood: long hours spent FROM MERRY DLO MUD NEWS BY MAIL ABOUT JOAN BULL AND HIS PEOPLE, Recurrences in Tho Land That Reigns Supreme in the Coln menial World. In London last year 1308 fire were .caused through carelessness, Literature for the blind ia to be provided in the .public libraries of Stoke-on-Trent. An abnormal increase in briampi throughout Warwickshire and Wor- cestershire is reported. At a Wood Green inquest on. a child of ten the doctor stated that the child had, the brain of an adult. Lor.don't latest "lung," Tooting Gardens., situated between Garratt lane and Tooting grove, has just been opened to the public, During the last quarter, out of 96 inmates who had. left the Lambeth Workhouse to receive their old age penfiiOns37 returned. Mrs. Marianne Neighbour, of Sunningdale, received many con- gratulations recently upon reaching; her one hundred and second birth- day. To make up a jury at Hackney Coroner's Court the other day, the coroner's officer went outside the court and called on several passers, by to become jurors. Four hundred Hammersmith schoolchildren have been given fushi•as and geraniums to rear for a juvenile flower chow at Hampshire House Club on July 22. Mr. Alfred Austin, the poet -laur- eate, is seventy -Seven ,years old; Viscount Cross is 90, and Sir J. C. Lawrence, late judge of the King's Beneh Division, is 80. The defence of a motorist who knocked down a, young couple at Southsea was that "the two were paying far more attention to each other than was necessary." The London County Council de- clines to place leprosy on the list of compulsorily notifiable diseases, on the ground that there is not suffi- cient evidence to warrant :such in- clusion. During •excavations on the Bit- terne Manor estate, near South- ampton one of the oldest estates in. Hampshire), some ancient Coins and other interesting relies have been found. By a unanimous vote• the East Suffolk County Council havepassed a resolution that all jurors ,should and ought to be paid ,,from the rates for their trouble and loss of time. The death took place in London recently of Mr. Simon Jacob, who was believed to have been the old- est Freemason in England. He cel- ebrated his hundredth birthday in September last. n The King will, on the morning of Judy 15, receive at Buckingham Palace members of the Boston branch of the Honorable Artillery Company of Massachusetts, who are to visit this country. Mrs. Mary Shelton. of Stroud, attained her one hundredth birth- day the other day, and her grand- son •attended Marling School for the first time, leaking the school's one hundredth scholar. Lord Kinnaird laid the founda- tion stone• of the "Red Lamp," a new haven of refuge for destitute boys in Horseferry road, Westmin- ster. The enterprise is a branch of the work of Mr. J. W. C. Fagan, It has been;.decided to discontinue ringing the town bell at Bunting - ford, Herts, which, placed over the gateway of an inn, has for 286 years been rung for Divine worship en Sundays and tolled for deaths and funerals. r, iA LAWYERS ARE SO SPECIFIC. A newspaper can seldom state a case to suit a lawyer, and if one lawyer is satisfied the other lawyer who is a party to the suit complains. The lawyers have a way of snak- ing things so clear and plain that • any one can understand. Ono was asking a witness some questions and here's what happened "My good woman, you must give an answer, in the fewest possible words in which you are capable, to the plain and 'simple question whe- ther you were crossing the street with the baby on your arm and the oxnnibus was coming down on the right side and the cab on the left and the brougham. was trying to pass the omnibus, you saw the plain- tiff between the brougham and the cab, or whether and when you saw him at all, and whether or not near the brougham, cab or omnibus, or either, er any two, and which of them respectively -or how was it 4" More than five million blanches of bananas aro now imported annual. ly into Great Brita;