Evening Star Newspaper, May 30, 1896, Page 21

THE EVENING ‘STAR, SATURDAY, MAY .80; 1896-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES, 21 J It gives the most thoroughly Safety — comes first, in washing. What is the use of making the work easy, as long asit's risky or dangerous? What does it matter howlittle a thing costs, or how many prizes you get with it, if it | rots and ruins the clothes? It 44 can’t be that you want to take any chances. Use Pearline. ~ Nothing that has ever been used for washing or cleaning is more absolutely harmless than Pearline. you the easiest, the quickest, economical work. oo ATITION. ee ULUING f rr is IMMORTAL. A » Remark Often Heard by Photocrap! From the Utlea ot co a I didn’t break the glass in the sph- as the phot is desk and pick- t was filled with thousand eight hun- e said in an under- riry and a breezy and peep- hy come in mera that > photog- then in and th " and re roped didn’t break he ss about the re- How » Housten to 1k mre . and he his tip toes and ca put his hards ime te be very mi ‘There area great many wrong ways of treating disease. It is to make Doctors e mistakes just =the same any- body else. The doctors who make the fewest mistakes are specialists. They do one thin; over and over an over, so that they know all that there is to know about it. In the 30 years that Dr. Pierce’s Pleasant Pellets have been sold, hun is of thou- le have taken them, and have ibythem. Th i le” questi f © product of ex] y are intended to cure con- §tipation. They are good for men, wo- tmen and children. 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The new edition of absolutely “peusary Medical Asso UNVADI JANOS, The World’s Best Natural Aperient Water. 25 Years’ Success in U. S. ation all Over the World. * enuine without the signature of the firm “Andreas Saxlehner,” m the Label. and sit for | eSetndnnonenenenenn sete . aie dosent, Seeteeseegeeseoente Soofoatenteatene sehonteaseeseeSeote Sesteeseesees a ieetonton 4 | A Railroad § Had the Trou om the Tidianapelis Journal. ‘J. Q Van Winkle, general superinten- dent of the Big Four, once made the quick- | est settlement of a big: strike on record,” the old-timer. “It was at Springtiel, | Ohio, I think. ‘The men, or a great portion of them, had gone out, and an effort was made to get the others to strike. | Winkle arrived and found the tow arded with notices that there was to be a mass meeting of railroad men at a certain dent Who Soon je Settled. | | 7 hall to take some action on the strike. Ho said that he would attend the meeting. The men were Inclined to. be turbulent, and an attempt was made to persuade him not the hour set he presented at the door of the hall and was stopped by the entry, who informed nim | that he could not « me in. ilroad man's meeting, isn’t asked Van Winkle, who knows | nearly every man on the system by his tirst what {t is.” I'm a railroad man, and I want in.’ nt do it, Van. The boys would ub- You don’t dispute my being a railroad man, do y “Oh, no, you are a railroader all right, but not the kind we want at this meeting.” “‘dack, I tell you what you do. You go in and tell the boys that i'm out here and want to come in, I don’t think many of them will object.’ he doorkeeper went inside, and in a few d and invited Van Winkle As soon as he was > bulld: up. were any deliberations Van led on for a speech. He got on the pi rm and talked with a iot of 1 to do yard work with, pointed > they were making, nat he would see that bad was righted at ished he was asked {t the room more t 1 out with him, rema re. 2 In an hour's time and all the Winkle inve: | and arrange concerned.’ strike Was at their pla use of the tro ctorily to a ed the 1 matters sa’ TROUBLE WITH AN EDITOR. How It Was That His Paper Was Not a Howling Success in the Town, From the New York Weekly. Stranger—“So you have no paper in this town? Native—No, sir. We did have one once, but it wasn’t run right, and we was glad t rid of it.” t was the matt “Wall, in the fust pla allers treat folks right. young and handsome and another gal just as pretty, | inferred she wasn’t pre r? . the editor didn’t He'd call one gal ingly refer to leavin’ it ter be y enough ter be called handsome, and she might be as old lah. Wall, that made trouble, t, when Far ed and atiow both left the same sort of le, he gave Fallow two lines all, things kept gittin’ wuss and wuss, until Gineral Oldman up on the hill died, and got f a column obituary notice, all about the Mexican war and things, while my Uncle Jake, just as good a man, wno never left the farm, but ‘tended to his du- ties Ike a Christian, an’ was a pillar in the church, got only a quarter of a column. Nou better believe, me an’ my friends felt | hurt.” “I suppose so." “Wall, we begun inquiring around about i or, and We diskivered that while he shargin’ us fer every little two-line ad- vertisement we put in, he was printin’ a hull column about his job office fer noth. ing. That raised a breeze, I tell you.” “No doubt.” fter that things come ter a head. The feller commenced stoppin’ the paper on them wat didn't pay thetr subscriptions. ‘Then we ‘rose in our might an’ druy him | out o” tow * From the T Man; in Wal rela lowing is an account of the bidding cere- ng to marriage. The fol- mony, 1 old custom which Is said to be celebrated even to this day I aural p: of Wales: The bidder goes from house to house with a long pole and ribbons flying at the end of it, and standing in the mid- e floor in each house he repeats a long lesson with great formality. {fe mentions the day of the wedding, the place, the preparations made, ete. The following is a specimen: “The in- fs this: With kind- tention of the biddei ness and amity, with dec and liberal- ity for and she in you to come with your good will on the plate. Rring current money—a shilling or two or three or four or five—with cheese and butter. “We invite the husband and wife, chil- the greatest dren and men servants, from to the least. Come there ear have victuals freely and drink ¢! to sit on, and fish if we can cate! but If not hold us excusable, and they will attend on you when you call upon them in return. They set out from such a place and such a place.” = eee Meeks’ Pound Party. From the Bazar. Alkali Ike—“Thar over at Mose Mee house last night." Dr. Slade—“That so? Who was there?" Alkali [ke—Only Meeks, Mrs. Meeks an’ a club.” was a pound party BULLESTON’S SUBSTITUTE, ee BY JOHN HABBERTON. (Copyright, 1896.) Bulleston was a city swell of the clvil war period, when city swells were truly gorgeous creatures, quite unlike the unin- teresting clubmen and fashionable class of today. He wore a heavy gold chain and diamond sbirt studs and trousers with pro- nounced figures, and broad side whiskers and rather long hair with a lot of per- fumed oil on it. Yet there was a lot of manliness to him, or he would not have seemed most fa- vored in the eyes of the magnificent Miss Malaise, who was adored by all the young fellows and old fellows at the club—there was but ene club in those days. Had it not been for the magnificent Miss Malaire Bulleston might have gone to war—as an officer—although at some sacri- fice to his own feelings, for he was quite particular abcut the company he kept, and he Lad seen officers, at home on leave of absence, who appeared on the streets with- cut a white collar at the throat of their wiiferm ccats, ond even without gloves. But Miss Ma’ as magnificent ¢s_ wal jective with which her name was alwa coupled; and there was everything to fa- vor Pulleston’s suft, for the young man was handsome, had much taste, abundant leisure and plenty of money. Indeed, all the other men at the club envied him his wealth, for Bulleston was the only helr of a rich man who had died several years be- fore, and he really could not spend the in- come of his father's estate, provided by the single executor and administrator. Ol. aise existed—she was really implied by the ad- ys men advised Bulleston to go into busine if only to iearn how to retain what wa: Ms own, but the yourg man objected— hadn't the core of the same property killed his father? Bulleston wished to live—not to die. But there came a day when the army claimed Bullestun, though not as an offi- cer. Men had ceased to volunteer as sol- diers. so the government had resorted to conscription, and Bulleston w: ‘drafted into the army.” He did not greatly mind it, except that he felt {nsulted by the im- plication that he, Charley Bulleston, a gen- tleman who never had worked in any way, could be compelled to serve as a pri soldier, sleep on the ground, eat from a tin plate, and have but one suit of clothes for all hours of the day and every day of the week. He felt sorry for other men who had to lead such a life, and he admitted that it must have required a high grade of patriot- ism to nerve them to it—far too high for him to display. But the government was merciful; It al- lowed another man to take a conscript’s place. Should the unwilling conscript fail to tind a substitute, the government would attend to the matter for him for the sum of $500. Bulleston was about to pay over the money and get the provoking affair off of his mind, whea the thought came to him that by the outlay of 3300 he was really appearing, by deputy or substitute, in the ranks under the flag. ‘This placed the affair in ever might stand in his p least as tell, strong, loyal and courageous. Of course, the substitute could not be ex- pected to be a gentleman, but Bulleston ad- mitted to himself that one couldn't expect a $300 man to be everything. At the south at that very time a solid black man of sound que cost several times $300 In gold. {ll there was much room for cholce among » Kulleston determined himself to be the chooser of his substitute. When a man starts to find another al- most as good as himself he fs quite likely to find a large job on his hands. The city contained guite a number of :nen who were willing to accept for $300, the chance of being killed or wounded or of deserting, but none of them suited Rulleston. ‘The young man became so particular as to his Substitute that he began to search the sur- i wntry for a possible representa- new Heht.”Who- ce ought to be at n Who would be, in camp and able a private soldier as Bul- would be, could he by any vate s Some privates, on had heard, became corporals eants, and were raised by the fortunes of war to the rank of lieutenant, or captain, or even higher. The substitute, ther: must not onl a man of good physique and of manly courage, but he must have enough of the higher manly qualities to maintain any position to which his bravery might raise him. Really, the case was nowhere near as simple as at first it seemed. Bulleston studied it until he fell to brooding, it made him lose sleep, after which, as a matter of cou! he lost temper, and when he learn- ed from good authority that at least one private soldier had won his way to the command of a regiment Bulleston also most lost his s To iy com- tent substitu yas hard a task as a proud ma ; him- gullcston began to wonder seriously r his better plan would not be to hire a dozen or twenty men to enter the service so that some one of them might in lime fitly represent him. His physician told Bulleston to take much joor exercise to overcome his sleepless- s and low spirits, so the young man spent several hours of every day in driv- ing about the suburbs and surrounding country. He usually drove alone, except is consuming thought, which was ¢ so bad that one day it impelled ve his horse a cruel cut with the whip. The horse resented this indignity so wigorotsly that he and the carriage parted company, having first spilled the driver in- to the dust of the country road. A man came to his assistance from a little farm near by, and asked the somewhat Injured iver to go to the farm house for re: and and the young man gi yet_extremely grave for a man 3 Soon there appeared the farme: wife, a woman young and not at all bad looking, except that she also seemed very grave; then a girl, six or seven years old, quite preity, approached the party, but she also wore a very serious face. All three were as hospitable and attentive to the in- jured man a been, yet personal friends could have ton made haste to get away from the sight of their faces, which seemed psolutely gloomy. As he turned toward the party to express his thanks and. say v»od-bye, he saw that on the front of the house were si ral large placards announc- ing a sale of the estate. ‘Seliing out, eh said Bulleston, Haven't you found it a pleasant place to Iv The man the locked strangely at his wife; woman returned a_ glanc quite as nge, and the child's lip trembled. than any we'll ever find . I'm afraid,” the man finally said. ndeed? Then why—{i's none of my business, but why do you sell?” The man looked indignant; the woman in trembling tones said ‘Certainly, sir, you can d 2" “Excuse me, see—foreclc said Bulleston, “I—iet me re sale'—I'm not sure that I know the meaning of that term.’ aN 3 said the farmer, getting his lips fir ‘I hope you'll never have to learn it, by anything that comes to your own property. ‘The long and short of it is that between a bad crop last year and drought and the loss of a horse this year I can’t pay the interest on my mortgage, mcch less the principal, and the mortgagee is selling me out. I suppose I can earn scme sort of a living afterward at day’: work, for I'm strong and able, but— here he Inclined his head quickly toward his wife and child, “it means a tough fu- ture for them. “Too bad—too bad!” said Bulleston. “We deserve it,” sald the wife. “Tom might have cleared the interest and had a lot of money besides if he'd enlisted, as he wanted to, and got the big bounty that was being pa'd. But we woulda’t let him— May and I. We couldn't. I've felt guilty about it, again and again, for I know Tom would have made a splendid soldier, he’s so strong and brave and persistent.” * “Him!” Bulleston looked at the farmer critically. Then he added, ‘How much is your debt?’ “Principal, $1,500—interest, overdue two years, makes about $: more. If I could pay the interest I could keep the place, and a single good year would get me even with the world. ’Tisn't much of a farm, but I know how to make it pay expenses when everything Isn't against me.” “Why, my friend,” said Bulleston, “T know a drafted man who'd pay you three hundred dollars to go to the army as his substitute; that mcney would more than pay your interest.” Ye-es. But if I got killed—” Tom!’ “Oh, papa!’ “If f got killed, how much better off would my wife and child be than they are now?” “That's true.” mused Bullesjon. “I never thought of that.” a? “Mind you, sir,” continiled the farmer, “if I wasn’t @ husband and father, I'd lose the farm without a groan, for the sake of being a soldier in these times,” ‘As he spoke his eyes nape nd he stood very erect. His wife and child gazed at him admiringly. So. didj,Bulleston, who scon asked: a “Ig there nothing you ,ca1_ do—nothing besides farming?” “Yes, I suppose so, if I had, the chance. I'm not a fool; I had a falf education, and I try to keep’ my brains ‘as tlear as my neighbors’.” vee “See here, my friend,” said Bulleston, “that drafted man of whom J spoke wants just such a man as you! fdt substitute. He'll clear your entire debt, if you'll go to the army in his place.” 1")... ‘The farmer started, looked cxultant, then determined, but his wife exclaimed: “Don't Tom! We can better Inse the place than lose you “Dear girl,” remonstrated the man, “don't talk and think as if all soldiers got Killed, I've read a lot about it, and cipher- ed it over. Why, at least aine of every ten are still alive. ‘Oh, Tom! Don’t you see that means that there's one chance in ten that you'd be killed The child said nothing, but het eyes filled as she pressed close to her father’s side, and the man’s face resumed its sad ex- pression as he said “You see how it is, sir, and I can’t blame them. I'd carry a worse wound than any bullet could make if I went away from them to the war, although I could and would endure it for the sake of the caus: “Tom,” exclaimed the wife, “you know we've talked the entire subject over before. Suppose the entire mortgage were cleared away, What would your wife and child have to live on if you were killed or held pris- ener for a long time? You know what awful troubles some soldiers’ families about us have gone through. Suppose you were to send us all of your pay, how far would it go, while prices of everything are so high?” “There's sense in that,” said Bulleston, Little though he knew of business, he could imagine the thinness of dollar: when stretched to co: month. Seldom was there a day in which he did not spend more than thirteen dollars on mere trifles. “You mustn’t think us selfish, sir,” said the woman to Bulleston. “We simply can't spare him, and the only way to keep him from going is to frighten him about his wife and child. You mustn't think Tom selfish, either, for he doesn’t think a bit about the possibility of making money in any way by going to the w “Money,” exclaimed the farmer, with a frown and a sneer. “If I'd no one but my- self to think of I'd gladly serve in the rank for nothing. If 1 w: h, I'd gladly pay for the privilege. Mone {ts place—nobody knows it better than I, but it takes men—men who are men al through, to save a nation that’s in peril,’ “Bravo,” shouted Bulleston. “Allow me to shake hands with you, sir. Madame, al- low me to congratulate you on being’ the wife of such a man.” The woman looked proud and pleased. Bulleston continued: “You're just the man that I—well, the truth is, I'am the drafted man of whom I have been speaking. A few moments ago I offered you five times the government pri of a substitute. I did it because I thought you thoroughly fit to do what I would do if there were not special reasons why I can- not go to the war. I want my substitute to be as much of a man leman and patriot as I believe my: and I can afford to have him n find th man. I am fully satisfied that you are he. The farmer looked at Bulleston; then he looked pleased, for the chance visitor was a handsome man, well dressed, and had the air of importance which distinguished his class." To be Compared to so tine-looking a man was a compliment of a kind not com- mon in the farming locality. Bulleston went on: “Iam rich; T have no relations, nor any one but myself to spend money upon, so I wan, to make you another and still bet offer. If you enter the y, you will be- come a commissioned officer in time; you have the maniness and character which must achieve succes nong men. I'm so sure of it that I now make you this offer: Beside doing all that I've promised, I will make a special deposit in the bank or trust company, the income of which shall equal monthly the pay of a lieutenant, which is ten times as much as a private soldier wages, This income your wife shall ¢ monthly until you obtain a commission and can draw the amount from the govern- ment. ‘The entire sum shall be so bound by the terms of the deposit that neither I nor any one else can disturb the princi until the war ends; but, should the wors befall you, the entire sum shall go to your wife and daughter.” Whew!” exclaimed the farmer, while his wite opened her very wide in ama ment. Bulleston noted the effect of his of- he made h Madame, he hesitates only for your sake. s with you to say the word that shall save your home, provile well for your future and that of your for whose education also L will pal . for the di every 4 y is well enough in 1, y handsomely ughter of such parents deserves ible advantage. It is for you, also, to say the word that shall give your ccuntry a defender whose equal can’t easily be found, unless I am a poorer judge of human nature than I think myself. he woman clasped her hands and ex- ned: 30, Tom! May me if Iam wrong! Bulleston kept all of his promise: farmer entered the army nd Balle had a new sensation which was worth all heaven have pity upon it had cost. He exchanged letters with his substitute, who put so muc it into all he wrote that Bullesto: half wished there was no magni Ma- laise, so there would be nothing to prevent him entering the army himself. He so grateful to the man that he insisted upon being better than his wor He hired a person to work the resc rm, and hired a cher to instruct the little girl in music, and he talked so much at his club about his substitute’s family that he was obliged to knock down a member who ins ted that fa he was in love with the substitute’s wife, who was merely a pleasing looking little woman, instead of with the magi:'ficent Malaise hose were great days, back in the late summer of "63, for other men_as well as for Bulleston—for fortunes as for families. Many * merchants suddenly rich throt stodl men who had been poor and plain iddenly began to ride in cai 3, buy nds, and found a new tocracy. Many men who had been rich fell into pov- erty through the failure of thelr “securi- ties” to temain true to name, or through speculation in commodities which fluctu- ated rapidly, One dey Bulleston paid a large wager by giving a check upon the executor of his fath estate—the only man who kne: the exteat and nature of the deceased mil- lionaire’s property; the check was not honored. Bulleston went down town to see bout it, but there was no one to see; the executor had disappeared, and with him the Bulleston millions—even the house in which the heir had lived from his birth. “Speculation,” the executor explained in a note, before he shot himself. Bulleston declared that he could not be- lieve things were as bad as they seem but what can't a man believe when must? His home gone, his pocket empt many bills unpaid, the magnificent Miss Malaise an undoubted impossibility—these were a few of the things which Bulleston was compelled to believe in a single da. All he could claim as his own was his pei sonal property—which possibly would sell for enough to pay his bills—and his sub- stitute in the army. Cold shouldered at the club, unfit for any business, without a triend, and with a new and uncomfortable conviction that he really hud never deserv- ed a friend, Bulleston crept uncomfortably about the city for a few days, and then tried to lose himself by going to another state and enlisting in the army. Soldiers are not supposed to think, but Bulleston thought industriousty for a few a There was nothing to think of but If and his substitute, but that was 2, The provision for ‘the substitute’s y had becn so made that the executor had becn unable to disturb it, so by turns Bulleston was mean enough to wish there might be a way of regaining part of it, and man enough to rejoice that he had done one good deed in his life. Of one thing he was certain, when finally he came to himself; he was’ a private in the ranks and would remain there unless he did something to hetter his condition. Besides, he was curious as to the condition of his sub. S Guly property, and he was too circ until he could do so as 2 gentleman. So he cndeavered to be a good soldier, and some of his life-long habits came to his a His per- scnal appearance and s were al- ways so gcod that they impressed his offi- cers. Vacancies were continually being created by bullets and disease, and one day Bulleston was appointed to fill one of them. With straps on his shoulders he was a gentleman again—nominally; true, some of his brother officers were ‘coarse fellows, but so were some of the fellows who almost lived at Bulleston’s late club. Then he wrote to his substitute, but re- celved no reply. He wrote to the substi- tute’s commanding officer and the reply was the single word, “Dead.” He wrote a letter of condolence to the widow, but got no reply; was she dead too, or merely un- grateful? He wrote the trust company in which he had deposited the money for the woman's benefit, and learned that the de- posit had been claimed and paid on proof of death of the husband. ‘The company knew nothing of the woman's present whereabouts. Well, he had at least himself, and a repu- tation which he had earned: besides, he had little time in which to think of the past, for the present was very active and real. He rose a grade or two in rank, seemed to have a brilliant military fu- ture, when suddenly his regiment” was transferred to a department where malaria was more merciless and deaily than the uniformed foe, for it left its victims alive after robbing them of health, strength and the desire to live. Bulleston drifted back to his native city and strolled, in his uniform, past the club of which he had two years hefore been the mest popular member.* The building had not changed in appearance, neither had the overfed fellows who sat in its windows, so Bulleston felt no desire to resume his old position. How could he? What was he to do? He had no home, no bus 8—nothing but the few hundred dollars that remained of his discharge pay. He closely observed i to see how they would re-enter civil life; red into pertnership wi m, and lost his all in a month, The perils of war? haw! All the ignorance, courage, uncertainty, apprehen- sion and desperation of two y: of cam- paigning were as nothing to what Bulleston endured while beginning anew the hardest of all wars—the battle of life. He had come out of the military war with t ation of a competent man and a hero; in the new fight he found himseif a he! man and a coward. It reminded him of his first dé on the battlefield, except that the day finally ended, while the new struggle continued through days that lengthened into w P. months and years, while the result seemed utterly unc and liessly distan y and altogether delight- ful, just for old struggles on the f One might get a wound, perhaps, or I limb, maybeype killed, but what were such possibilities’ to ever-rankling wounds of injured pri ense of worthlessness, disgust with a life which seemed not worth the k Yet while he trembled and blunde nge would pe one of the 1d. d and feared he was learning the newer and harder service. From being a of camp follower he slowly became a er in Iife's great army—only a raw recruit, at first, but in time a trusty man in the ranks, for, to drop metaphor, he became a common laborer, then he learned a trade and later he developed an ambition, for he had devised a bu: sin which there would be great profit could he find a part- ner with capital, So it came to pass, a dozen years after the war ended, that Bulleston went with a lot of other veterans to a large city for the double purpo: isting a 2 Decoration for a man of course, there was a proi ion in whic the veterans took part, and, of cow there were many halts, during whi Veterans stood in groups and swapped arns. During one of the halts some one idenly grasped Bulieston by beth shoul- rs and exclaim You're the man who made me Bulleston stared. A ) a long time to remember a face seen but two three times, but Bulleston’s memo: went Lack to a farm cottage with foreclosure sale notices all over its front, and a serious-faced young farmer, who try- ing to meet ruin like a man. “You're the man who made me, ed the man, still maintaining his gr “You're substitute. [ thought were dead ped Bulleston my you So did t many people—my wi among th ther man was_ buried, with my name on his slab, while I was 4 prisoner at Richmond. Drop out of the ranks—at once—and come in with me; there's my house.” “Wh Trat palace? How about the Litue “Oh, y grew out to it and it; it had to be cut into building lots a hundred and fifty of them, and brought more than a thousend dc ill, that’s not half the m ou don't get away fror until I tell you all abo you any harm, but I hope 7 I'd like the chance to unload a lot of my good luck upon you, for, as id before, you're the man who made me. I don't wi. ‘ou're poor, T here have you been for years? I've in every way to find you-so has my but you seemed to hav ared from the face of the earth You seem to have got into the army yourself—eouldn't fu t me, after all, nted, could you? Tell me yourself we walk. How has the world used you? ite as well as I've deserved got Th wanted to find you. 3 » for the bene ily, and which my poor wife ing to agreement, when ev sure I was dead and buriex invested for you, with the turn up some day. "Twa dollars when you made it; dred thousand now. If Bulleston didn’t grow a foot in a sec- ond he thought he did, which ans the same purpose. But he did not forget his manners; so, after stammering his thanks, he asked: “Tell me something about your wife and daughter.” “Both alive and well, tha ope that you thirty thousand ‘tis over a hun- heaven, and will be beside themselves with joy to you. By the way, there's another old quaintance ot yours with us, whom if you're not glad to see you're not the man J think u. Here we are “But who i: you spoke of?” “My = daughtet then the door ope % Bulleston saw before him a matu markably handsome woman, dressed, with a thr her dier shoots first and challer ges afterw: 5 or does both at the same instant. Bulles- ton threw his arms around the gove: and shouted: oe Malaise! ou went away without saying a word te me! Why did you do it?” the la ask- s00n as s recovered her breath, ‘ause I had suddenly been reduced to ry, my dear girl. might have had a companion is had you waited a few days,” the reply. There was an hour of explanations and questions, and laughter, with a tear or two to lend delicious varie but in time Bul- leston appeared to beccme somewhat ab- sent-minded. The substitute whispe his wife that it was proba bly because the malaria which the poor fellow had n= daured; the substitute had seen other fine veterans affected in the same way, years after the war. But the wife whispered “nonsense, and sent her husband on an errand, which the man went about very sheepishly. Yet the good woman was right, for when the substitute returned with a gentleman, whom he introduced as his pas- hur governess, ~“here she and™—just “You in was tor, and the substitute’s wife smiled roguishly at Bulleston and looked suggest - ively at the governess, Bulleston said,with much spirit, that he had been thinking of exactly the same thing and how to manaxe it without seeming rude. So that ve evening the magnificent Miss Malaise lost her name and regained her magnificence When the host congratulated the happy man, he said: “You deserve your luck, for you are the an who made me." “I began to think,” replied Bulleston,with the voice of a man talking to himself, “that you are the man who made m IF YOU VALUE YOUR HAIR 722 ree Ha ) Wi! REGENERATOR To make Gray Hair its nat- ural color or Bleached Hair any color desired. nick. 2—Dark Brown, ~Medtaim hestnut nut. Blonde Cendree. Price $1.50 and $3. Sole manufacturers and pat- entecs, Imperial Chemicai Mfe. Co., ‘Trade Mark, 292 Fifth Ave., Sold fa Washington by ED. P. MERT F ana 11th sts. Marlborough Parlors, 1110 G st. n.w. my 16, 23830 AN UNCANNY STONE. The Diamond Which Brought Misfor- tune Always to Its Possessor. From the St. Louis Globe Democrat. Some years ago a Paris jeweler told a story of one diamond which had passed over his counter no less than eleven times. It was a beautiful stone of nearly four carats, of perfect color and luster, but easily identified by means of a small “feather” in the tip of the lowest part. He tought it from an East India dealer, and had it set in a ring. It was sold to a countess in 1860, just before the outbreak of the Franco-Prussian war. The countess died in a few weeks, and the ring was worn by her husband. He was killed in the siege of Paris, and a few days after his death the ring was brought into the store for sale by a common soldier. He was arrested and the ring sent to the family of the dead count, Before the siege ended they brought in the ring and sold it to the dealer in order to to procure money after the siege it p an English tourist, who i into the hands of the city to ta look at the ru the com- munists, and a met stone from the of the firm, who, on being w desired to tell how he had been the pro} t hunter who had bees ya tiger, and his friends soll the ring to get means to send b nome. The stone was reset and purchaser in a prominent demi-monde, who not long after was mur- dere r room. Among the articles taken by the murderer was the ring, and the firm began to wonder how soon it would turn up. had not long to wait, for all their people had by this time learned about the store, and were on the look out for it After six months it was found in the show- case of a jeweler in London, who he bought it from a firm in Amsterdam: It bought by the Paris a nt and sent ack to be st ed afresh on ii ravels. It purchased again by a woman of the town, who six weeks later was drawn ou of the Seine with the gem on and, by a strange coincidence, soon found a member of the fered to the firm that agents, the court ha> ing ordered 1 to be soid. so it we from hand to hand, attended with m tune at every change, and usually bri death to the possesssor. Laborers Golconda mine to say that stone was bap d in taken from the earth it « of blood wherever it we story of one such ill-o: s far to con- firm belief in such a superstition. whe on nedding: blood cae! E English Order. andard. It is announced today that the queen has created a new order of knighthood, which I be entitled the Royal Victo: less than fi her orders have be. into existence during the pre three of them of the Indian The N From thi , the Order Smpire the Imperial Order of the Crown of India (the last to rommemorate her majesty’s assumption of the title of emp ed to nin that ¢ re the Dist ed to officer Royal 0} €ss)—are cor sons penden guished the arny of Vic priated called Th who ha won distir The other ervice Orde and nav ria a to 1 the ne two . limi and or taken part in the administrs foreign affairs of the existing jally been met, the d ¥ of a privy person em in] nee, Who would neillor on some not that his me ni: ed by an . . has not uous to the alities for which it w order proves to > than those of ol to those who have State none the less becat have never held an office or draw soe | What to Say at a Cri al Time. the Detreit Froe Press. $ always expected to say somet! when looking for the first time on a new it is neither kind nor safe to t the little, red t look like anything, of unpa arks to be d and used on su uncopy- ch oc think he’s going to look like his fath- “Hasn't he dear little fingers? Do let :ne his dear little toes!” sn't he large?” Isn't he a tiny darlin “How bright he seem vid you ever see such a sweet little t he just too sweet for anything?” dear little darling! I never saw so young a baby look around so!” Dh, ple let me hold him just a minut Time enough to worry about washday when you can’t get FELS-NOPTAA soap (At all grocers.) FELS & CO., Phileda. Asthma, Hay Fever AND Bronchitis } POSITIVELY CURED BY PYROL |. used with it, and gives immediate cure in from 15 to 40 days. one dollar. If not satisfactory, return within three days and money refunded. At all druggisis, or by mail to PYROL CHEMICAL Co., Wa: bv. Cc. It whic an fs a volatile accompank the inhaler ot permane Booklet fro, SBt-28, ton, RAMBLE R Y & JbiFERY MPG. C0., 233° io : ¥, d17-18,e0tt “HUNGRY AS A RUNTER.” ‘That is the condition of those at meal time Whose digestive organs are performing thelr natural and healthful fonctions, But on the other band, Suppose their appetites are rendered capricious by the taunts of dyspepsia, blood, muscle and brain my demand ever so much of the tissue- building and energizing properties of food, bat the stomach has no power to prepare thei for the system, M Nerves, Were led to indulge in by the broad claims of some patent cure-all and bow their alr castle ended in dissppointment, Something te r the enfeebled digestive or- gans is what most dysp aire. ‘This is Wonderfully well done by Stuart's Dyspepsia ‘Tab- lets, the most perfect remedy known; simply a selentitic certainty operation while the strougest fe the dictates of cases of stom, Simply p the diseased on forms the digestive ns rest and res the stomach ‘Phen the ite wit ow In all not st whieh all st Maude 1 M sold by all druggis You think it most de- licious as a drink until you eat it—then you think it best both ways A DELICIOUS BEVERAGE At all Soda Fountaizs Fortifies the system against the ravages of summer heat and pre- vents sunstroke. Promotes diges- tion and makes eating a pleasure, Pep-Kola is the discovery of Mr. A. W. Stewart, a well-known New York chemist, and is compounded from the celebrated Kola-Nut whose wonderful effect in stimulat- ing the action of the heart and ton- ing up the nervous system is well- known to medical science; pepsin, the greatest digestive in the world, and phosphates. Professor Elliott, the noted botan- ist of London, declares that “One Kola-Nut will enable a man to dis- pense with food and drink and sup- port great fatigue for 24 hours.” Bottles for Home Use, 75 Cents. Samuel T. Sictt, 505 Pa. Ave. N. W. The Library Pharmacy, Pa. Ave. and 2d S.E. King’s Drug Store, 15th and I N.W. mny20-wE St ORCHASES BloodNerve Food Yourstur ee cerone taxing For Weak and Run-Down Pcople from Childhood to Old Age. of all restorative r y¢ blood and ner two life-giving fluid: living, overwork, wo SHAT IT Dt nd rich, ard th aud brain Jost vitaJlit tn&satest Grateful —Comforti Epps’s Cocoa. BREAKFAST-SUPPER. “By a thorough knowledge of the natural Inwe which Lous of dig and nutrl- prop- s pound tins, by grocers, thus: moeepatbie Chemists, and. aS as 4 (lasts longer t rt or cUinkers to $2.00 & uacrushed. a (WASH. GASLIGHT CO., | 413 10th St N. W, ) z 5 Nost. "hone 476.