Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, November 7, 1896, Page 2

i fe | IIL —ONLY DAUGHTER. CHAPTER XXX—(Continued.) As he spoke the last word he snatch- ed the pistol from the table and dis- charged it at the poor girl who knelt at his feet. Then, before the others could inter- fere, he placed the second barrel close to his temple and pulled the trigger. It missed fire. With an oath and a savage cry he sprang toward the door, but Sir Harold and his son were upon him. “Help! Help!” screamed Miss Hen- wood. John Gridley seemed endowed with superhuman strength. He dashed his two antagonists right and left; then, springing through the door, he ran through the passage and out into the grounds; then, felling Caleb to the earth, as Ma. uw from her window, he sprang upon the horse and galloped down the ve with Ernest Hartrey in hot pursuit. Aud this was what had taken place in the rooms below, while poor May, a prey to the test anxiety, sat it- ing in feverish suspense to hear the sult of the interview, which was life and death to her. Now she lay unconscious on the floor of her chamber, little knowing that it had been shown that her marriage with John Gridley was null and void, and that she was a free girl, free to warry whom she would. On rode John Gridley, spurring for- ward; at a short distance behind him followed Ernest; and at a still greater distance came Sir Harold, with some three or four servants, including Caleb, though he had had * enough -exercise to last him for some would not be left behind when his master was in pursuit and might, perhaps, be in da for John Grid- ley was dangerous, and when he turned to bay it might go’badly with bis antagoni CHAPTE! The Fate of John Gridley. frnest Hartrey, though he had little doubt in his own miad that John Grid- ley intended to drown him, had pur- posely pushed him off the quay into the water with the intention of thus ridding himself of a rival at the same time that he obtained poss ion of the thousand pounds, had only mentioned ui picion in his letter to May, keep- ing a dead silence on the subject of the which had taken him to that f-th-way part of Portsmouth he was seized by the pressgang. in his letter to his father he had con- fined himseif to the simple statement that he had been carried on board the Osprey, was quite safe and would re- turu to England with as little delay as sossible. ; Lo Henwood he had@written principally about the jewels, giving tie account of the way in which he ytained a sum of money upon from the old Jew. May alone he had confided the ‘suspicion which was almost a certain- ty, at John Gri y had contemplated the perpetration of the worst of all crimes. But there was no proof. John Grid- Jey, when accused, denied everything; and, at all evi withont the all-im- portant witne Ernest Hartrey him- it was impessible to take any for his punishiwent. Ernest Hartrey had resolved as soon as be had found May, ured himself of her unchanged stion, he would not rest until he racked down, the man who had attempted to deprive him of life, and handed him over to the authorities to be dealt with by the law. Little Lad he thought that he would ‘find on his return that his bitterest en- emy, and she that he loved more than the whole world beside, were man and avif when he heard it, had The news. filled him with double anger. Not against May. He had never doubted her; but a nst the man whom; with- out knowing any particulars, he felt sure had tricked and entrapped poor into a marriage which he » must have been hateful Chance had thrown him, as we have seen, almost immediately after his ar- rival, into the company of John Grid- ley. Under the circumstances, he had de- termined to allow no feelings of anger to influence him to take revenge into his own hands. In spite of his resolution, however, the act of John Gridl which he had witnessed—the cowardly firing of pistol at a loving, suppliant, kneeling woman, whom he had deceived and bet -roused all his manly indig- nation. It would have been the same wheev- er had committed so dastardly an act; and what Englishman is there, worthy of the name who, if he had been pres- ent at that dreadful scene described in the last chapter, would not have joined with Ernest Hartrey in the pursuit? He had no time to form any plans as to what was to be done when he overtook him; sufficient it was for him as he galloped furiously after the fu- gitive, that he had to prevent his es- cape. Sir Harold Hartrey’s anger was even greater than his son’s; for the revul- sion of feeling made it stronger. In the guise of a friend he had intro- duced a crime-stained villain to the house of his sister-in-law; nay, had even quarrelled with her because she refused to give way to his opinion, and do that which her conscience told her, though it was legally right, was mor- ally wrong. me little delay took place necessa- wily before horses for Sir Harold and the servants could be obtained; and John Gridley, with Ernest close at his heels, was flmost out of sight when the baronet cantered up to the summit of the hill over the brow of which they and disappeared. Yet far in the distance he saw them riding straight across country, taking feaps over intervening obstacles which athe hardiest fox-hunter would have shunned, and the sight gave him re- newed energy; and with a shout to the servants to follow him at all speed, he dashed down the hill, regardless of danger. Sir Harold had but little to guide him in his pursuit. Here and there, in soft ground, the indentations of the horses’ hoofs; oc- casionally a gap made in a hedge, through which Gridley and his pursu- er had forced their way. One advantage the baronet had was, that the animal which bore him so bravely was fresh and spirited, while those ridden by the two in advance were jaded and tired with their previ- ous journey. Whenever a slight eminence offered the chance of a view, the baronet per- eeived with delight that he was gain- ing on his son; though, unfortunately, the distance between Ernest and John Gridley was gradually increasing. Gridley had, by good luck, made the selection of the better horse; and Er- nest gnashed his teeth with rage as he became conscious that the strength of the beast which had so far borne him so well was rapidly failing. He did not know that his father was behind him; but believed that in the event of Gridley escaping him, he would be able to get clear altogether. And so thought John Gridley, as he urged his horse to its utmost speed. He laughed aloud, a mocking, jeering laugh, as he increased the distance be- tween himself and his foremost pursu- er at every stride; but his triumph was but short-lived. A few minutes afterward, in at- tempting to jump a brook, which di- vided two large fields, his horse stum- bled and fell, throwing him over his head. Uninjured, John Gridley was in a moment on his feet »nd looking around to see his chance of escape. Ernest was close up to him, but his horse was well-nigh exhausted, and could only be induced to proceed at a slowl, lumbering trot. John Gridley; flinging off his coat, plunged into the stream, and, with a little exertion, reached the opposite bank. His only chance was that Ernest's horse might refuse the leap. He hoped and suspected such might be the case, and fortune seemed to fa- vor him, for he was right. Ernest knew it was useless to at- teempt to urge his beast to a greater speed, and had no choice but to seek a shallower part, where the brook could be forded. ‘this gave John Gridley a chance, of which he was not slow to avail him- self. He started on foot at a rapid pace, and made towards a_partly-ruined barn, which stood in the field at no great distance, This he reached before Ernest had succeeded in crossing the water. Gridley’s coolness had never deserted him; and now, while waiting the com- ing up of his pursuer, he drew from his pocket the pistol with which he had committed the dreadful deed, and, A steady hand, deliberately reload- ed it. He felt that it was useless to at- tempt further flight, and in that eld barn he resolved to stand at bay, con- fident that he could rid himself of his pursuer by means of an ounce of elad. Ernest Hartrey had been able to see all the other’s movements, for the country was fiat, and no friendly trees offered Gridley the opportunity of con- cealing himself. As Ernest drew close to the barn Gridley entered it, and mounting by means of a crazy ladder to the plat- form above, he pushed away the means by which he had gained access to it, and waited there, with com- pressed lips and frowning brow, the pistol clutched tightly in his hand. Surrender!” cried Ernest, entering the barn, and seeing his dark face glaring ferociously at him. “Never- I will die sooner.” “Surrender!” repeated Ernest, “or it will be the worse for you!” “Listen to me, Ernest Hartrey,” said John Gridley. “I have no desire to add to my last deed; but, as there is a heaven above us, I will shoot the first man that comes near to me!” “Do you think I am terrified by your threats?” “Beware- Remember, I have warned you.” Just then the sound of horse’s hoofs was heard outside. “Help! Help!—he is here!’ shouted Ernest, at the same time that he planted the ladder against one of the beams, meaning by its aid to mount to the loft where Gridley lay in fancied security. As Ernest ascended, his opponent, by a great exertion of strength, pushed back the ladder. For a moment it stood balanced, and then fell crashing down upon the floor of the barn just as Sir Harold and the servants entered. “My boy! my boy!” cried the baron- et, “are you hurt?’ “Nothing—it is nothing,’ ’answered Ernest, speaking with difficulty, and pressing his hand to his side. “I shall be better directly. Follow the villain- He is there!” Sir Harold, following with his eyes the direction in which his son pointed, ; saw above him the face of John Grid- ley, looking down upon what he had done with a grin of fiendish satisfac- tion. He cannot escape!” he _ replied. “There is no exit by the roof. He is fairly trapped.” Then, by the baronet’s directions, Ernest was laid carefully upon a heap of straw, of which there was a great quantity in every part of the barn. He was too much hurt to attempt to rise; but it eemed to him hard to lie inactive, and take no part in the capt- ureo af a man who had o cruelly wronged him. It was hard to bear, but he was eom- pelled to remain incumbent while the other planted the ladder firmly. The first man tes!” shouted Joha John Gridley, levelling his pistol as he spoke. ‘The servants hung back, for their in- terest in John Gridley's capture was | him capable of reaching that extrem- not sufficient to make them care to risk their lives for it. His look and attitude were deter- mined end ferocious, and there was ht- tle doubt that he would do his best to fulfill his threat. “Cowards!” cried Sir Harold, “follow me, those who are not afraid!” and, old man though he was, he mounted the ladder with agility. As he reached the top Gridley fired. A sharp report. 2 wreath of smoke, and a sudden cry: but the cry proceed- ed from the lips of Ernest, who ex- pected to see his father fall a corpse to the ground; but ihe old baronet still stood erect. The pistol had been dis- charged so full in his face that his whiskers were siuged, but a sudden movement had wrenched his head from out of the line of fire, and he was uninjured. He rushed fiercely at Gridley and grappled with him. Those two, left to themselves, the elder man would have fared but bad- ly; but others were coming to his as- sistance; and John Gridley, secing that he would be overpowered if he re- mained there, thrust Sir Harold from him, and sprang up a second ladder, which led through a trap door into the loft. Huge trusses of straw blocked up the platform, and reached nearly to the trap-door; and consequently, the trou- ble which Gridley took to draw up the short ladder after-him into the loft, was of little avail ;for, by means of the masses of straw, it was compara- tively easy to reach the small hole which formed the sole entrance to the upper portion of the old barn. As one of Miss Henwood’s servants climbed rapidly upwards, a hand hold- ing a pistol was thrust through the trap. There was another sharp report; the man threw his arms over his head, staggered, and fell lifeless. “On—on!” cried Ernest, “before he has time to reload. Both barrels are empty, and he can do you no harm.” Caleb, who had remained passive hitherto, at the sound of his master’s voice, sprang forward, and, with mon- key-like agility, swung himself through the trap, and cast himself headlong at John Gridley, and bore him down. Together, the two battled furiously, each striving for the mastery—the ne- gro pouring forth a vocabulary of choice epithets, as he struggled and kicked, and bit wildly, in his vain at- tempts to secure the now doubly-guilty man. The others, more slowly but in the same manner as the negro, managed to effect an cntranee into the loft; and then John Gridley’s chance of escape seemed hepeless. Together they essayed to bind him; but he seemed to be endowed with su- perhuman strength. He burst assun- der all their bonds ,and with glaring eyes he dashed down his antagonists and intlicted many serious wounds upon them in this his iife or death struggle. From where he lay Ernest could see the strife, and he watched it, as may be supposed, with breathless intevest. His attention had been so fixed upon the struggle in the loft that he had not voticed a faint blue wreath of smoke curling up from one of the trusses of straw. “Tire! fire!” shouted Ernest with the whole strength of his lungs; but no one regamed him. “Father!” he almost screamed in de- spair, “the barn is on fire! In another minute it will be too late!” This time his voice reached the ears of Sir Harold, who, in a moment, saw the truth of his son’s words. With the flames about them on every side they managed to drop through tire trap and so regain the floor of the barn without mishap. All except John Gridley. “Ah, ha!” he laughed savagely. “What matters it what death I die? If you could all have roasted with me I should have rejoiced! I will not stir, I will not budge an inch! Let the flames come to me and claim me for their lawful prey! It will be a grander and nobler death than the hangman’s noose!” There was something terrible in the way in which that man calmly remain- ed waiting a dreadful death. Much as he had sinned, wicked as he was, no one could choose but feel pity, mingled with horror, at the thought of his rap- idly approaching fate—a fate so dread- ful as to wring cries of agony from the bravest. The baronet with his son left the burning barn as rapidly as possible, calling upon the servants to do the same, an order which they speedily ex- ecuted. The barn was formed of dry wood principally, and was highly inflamma- ble, while the straw stowed away in- side fed the flames till they darted into the air like crimson-tipped spears, shedding a lurid glare upon all around and lighting up the faces of the fright- ened villagers who flocked from every direction to the scene of the conflagra- tion. A portion of the ignited wadding from the pistol Gridley had fired had settled in the straw. For some time it lay there smouldering till fanued into life by some little gust of wind. Thus it was that, indirectly, John Gridley caused his own terrible fate. In a very short time the timbers which had supported the roof of the barn were burnt through, and then, with a terrific crash and amidst a se of brilliant sparks, the roof fell ‘Then it was that far away at a cor- ner of the building which the flames had not reached a human figure was seen moving cautiously. It was John Gridley. af His fertile brain had suggested a plan by which he might escape when he refused to leave the loft, but the flames had been too quick for him to carry it into execution. Nevertheless, he had found a spot where the fire had not yet penetrated, and from which the wind drove back the suffocating smoke. Here he remained till the fall of the roof, and then it became apparent to him that his position was untenable. “A hundred pounds for him who brings me that man alive!” cried Sir Harold excitedly. Gridley answered him with a derl- sive laugh. One chance alone of escape from im- mediate death was left to him. A beam, partly consumed, had fallen crossways so that part hung over the red-hot ashes, while the end projected near enough to an old oak to make it possible for an active man, ity, to spring to the branches of the tree and by its means reach the groun d. It’ was a hazardous attempt, but beevesd John Gridley resolved to make it. Amidst an almost breathless silence he crawled along, with a blazing fur- nace and a mass of cinders white with heat below him. every inch he advanced it bent more and more; and many turned away their heads unable to gaze upon the dread- ful death of a fellow creature, scoun- drel and villain though he was. From his lips rose a piteous, wailing ery of despair as the beam sank with his weight. Then there camg_a heavy crash ag the beam fell down into the heavy mass below. The sparks flew gaily puwards, and danced and quivered in the breeze, and a healf-stitled groan of horror cane from the crowd, for they knew that John Gridley had been called to his ac- count, and had gone to answer for his crimes at the-highest tribunal. And this was th2 fate of the unprin- cipled, passionate man who had brought so much misery on the princi- pal characters of this story. In the whole of the wide world there was but one persen to feel pity for him; and she, perhaps, had less rea- son to do so than any other. Lucy, poor Lucy, whose life he had attempted to take in a fit of sudden passion, learned the story as she lay dying. Miss Henwood would have kept the tidings from her had it been possible; but so eager were her ques- tions that she hed no choice but to an- swer them. She made no moan or complaint when she heard the dismal tale, for she knew he had deserved his fate. Yet she loved him still; and with a weary sigh and‘a gentle pressure of Miss Henwood'’s hand, her spirit winged its flight away from a world where sorrow and misfortune abound, to a brighter and a better, “where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.” ’ CHAPTER XXXII. Conclusion. It was a bright April morning ,six months after the events narrated in the last chapter, and, for the third time in her life, May Rivers donned a bridal dress. It was the very perfection of a spring day—the sun shone gaily on the vivid green of opening buds and fresh grass; the birds carrolled forth in the joy of liberty; and all nature looked as glad as our heroine, “poor little May,” no longer—for her troubles were at an end; and after all the sorrow and pain she had experienced, she was to reap her reward by having the dearest dream of her heart realized, in wed- ding the man she loved, and had al- ways loved, through all the tumult and misfortune which Jobn Gridley had brought upon her. Thanks to the skill of Dr. Rose and the kindness and tenderness of Miss Henwood, May had quite recovered her health and spirits, and on the wedding morning descended the very realiza- tion of beauty. There was no tinge of sorrow in her mind; for now the dark clouds which had appeared to hem her in on every side had all disappeared, and a clear sky shone round about her. it was from Blackrock she set out May Rivers, and it was to Blackrock she returned May Hartrey, to partake of the wedding breakfast before set- ting “orth with Ernest—her husband— upon a foreign tour. And who was there at the celebra- tionn of the marriage? Who was that white-haired old man, who, with bent head and benevolent expression, gazed so lovingly at the bride, and told all who would listen to him that she had sacrificed everything to her father? Who should it have been but Matthew Rivers, the Malt- ster of Annadale? , ‘True, it was Matthew Rivers, but maltster no longer. 11 worry and an noyance with respect to money mat- ters were at an end with him. He would be a little childish and for- getful at tines, for the brain fever had left its effects; and then he would talk of market day at Alverton, and speak of his wife as if she were still among the living; but then, he was an old man, a very old can, and trouble and sickness leave such uarks behind as cannot be eftaced. Who was that noble, aristocratic- looking man, who, in most flattering terms, proposes the bride’s health? lt was the provd, haughty Sir Har- old Hartrey, Baronet, of Hartrey Park. May, in the six months which she had personally known Sir Harold, had managed to creep into the innermost recesses of his heart, and there to take such a deep hold as to become almost necessary to his existence. “Srnest could not have made a bet- ter choice had he sought the wide world through,” said he to May on her wedding morning. And he kissed the fair white forehead of his son’s bride. Then, besides these two old gentle- men, the fathers of the bride and groom, there were other guests to whom the reader has been introduced before. There was Dr. Rose, bland, smiling, humorous and clever, with a great ex- panse of white waistcoat, talking to dear Aunt Agatha, who had done so much for her nephew and his bride. There was Captain and Mrs. Steele, our old friend Gregory Steele, first lieutenant of H. M. ship Osprey, pro- moted for distinguished gallantry, and who for some months had been the happy husband of the lovely Rose. It was a great success, this wedding breakfast. Everybody was happy; everybody enjoyed himself or herself; and fle number of flirtations which ripened into “something serious” dur- ing strolls through the park-like grounds of Blackrock was never ac- curately estimated. ‘“ And on the scene of ‘happiness and joy let the curtain descend. There is no need to follow them on their wed: ding trip—no occasion to tell how af. fection increased. It is sufficient te say that through many years, the re- mainder of their lives, the true ané lasting affection suffered no diminu: tion; or, in the words of the old nurs. ery tales which summed up the here and ‘heroine’s future in a single line; “They lived happy ever after.” THE END. A BLIND TRAVELER. fle Finds His Way Alone Along the Roads of California. Gilbert Watkins is the name of a blind man who lives on Brush street, near Taylor. Although he is so blind he cannot tell day from night, even though he looks directly at the sun, it does not interefere with his ability to travel. In fact, Watkins does more traveling than most other people ex- cept drummers. And, furthermore, he does the most of it without any one to guide him. Watkins, when he is in the city, can be seen standing on the cor- ners of some of the down-town streets, where he sells notions and other small articles in order to gain a livelihood. But he does not stay long at a time, be- cause he likes to visit different places and meet different people. attends the different celebrations and fiestas, where he says he is sure to en- joy himself. When Watkins wants to go any place the first time he gets some one to guide him if possible, but after that he can go alone at any time he wishes. He has been over nearly all of the roads in California, and only a few months ago he walked from this city to Los Angeles by himself. He says he is always well treated and finds people only too willing to tell him what is going on. According to Wat- kins’ story he is able to do these re- markable things solely by his memory, and says that he can be taken any- where and made to turn as many cor- ners as desired, and that he can find his way back without assistance. In this respect he seems to have the same faculty a cat is said to have and ex- ercise it in the same way. When the blind man desires to go to a certain place he has never been taken before he ig led to it, and as he goes along he takes mental note of all the objects he passes. Here is a rough crossing, here some asphaltum pavement, here a dirt road with stones on it, here some water, etc. When he wants to return he takes them in reverse order and has no trouble, “The reason I can do this,” he says, “is because I don’t see a lot of things that distract me. You could do the same thing easy enough. Maybe in a mile I would only have to remefnber a few objects. It is just the same as if a man who could see was taken through a dark alley, but every once in a while was given a glimpse of his surround- ings by a light being turned on. He could remember what he saw without. any trouble, but if he saw a thousand other things he could not. I know just how many steps it is from the corner to where I live and can walk to the place without even using my cane. Of course, Iam helped a great deal by the people I pass, because they know I am blind and always make room for me.”—San Francisco Call. New Designs in Jewelry. Jewels and gems are perennially dear to the feminine heart, and wheth- er the white or the yellow standard waves triumphant in November neither will be deposed from its place of use- fulness in adornment of the fair. Wherefore the wise tradesman, with- out waiting for the result of the elec- tion, even now has his most artistic craftsmen and cunning workers in gold and silver designing and producing dainty conceits in precious metals and stones which “in a few months will flash and sparkle on beauty’s brow or hand in drawing room and assembly hall. Many of the new. designs are most lovely, and the dealers are not lacking in confidence when they tell you this or that exquisite shape is sure te be the style in jewelry this coming winter. “Russian work,” for instance, is growing more artistic and promises to increase in popularity over last sea- son, probably on account of the inter- est in the coronation ceremonies a few weeks ago. The Russian buckles are most elaborate affairs. A choice de- sign is in dark blue enameled, with a half Moorish figure, a small dagger of silver and blue catching the buckle as a fastener in the center. They are ob- tainable in blue or red enamel, plain or colored gold. The gold and silver pullion braid for the belt is very elabo- rate and worth twenty cents an inch Quotations in Russian are inscribed upon many of the buckles, but no one has been curious enough to have found their meaning. These buckles are said is growing more artistic and promises the Russian nobility, and they are unique enough to satisfy the most fas- tidious. The dragon, with spreading wings and glistening, jeweled eyes, will be observed everywhere, in the scarf pin, hat pin, and to decorate the evening bodice. The crown, whether in jewels or carved in gold or silver will be a design much worn.—Phila- delphia Telegraph. A Home-Keeping Inhabitant. “Lived here thirty years, and yet never saw the city?” “Never.” ‘ “Did you ever have a desire to go to town?” “Well, yes, I reckon I has. But yor see, ‘fore the railroad came hit wuz too fur ter travel on foot, an’ the mule was too busy plowin’ an’ arte1 the railroad come, they went ter charg: +? people fer travelin’, an’ so I jest thought I’d stay home an’ not bother *bout seein’ the world. But what dc you reckon happened ter us ‘tothe day?” “Don’t know.” “Well, sir, my son John ackchulls bought a ticket, jumped aboard o’ ihe railroad, went ter the city an’ sub- scribed fer @ mnewspaper!”’—Atlants Constitution. The Finest Yet. He—What do you think of it, darl. ing? x She—It’s by far the handsomest en gagement ring I’ve ever had, and I’v« had several, dear, He always” Ringing Noises in ‘he ears, sometimes a roaring, buz- zing sound, or snapping like the report of a pi.ol, are causod by catarrh, thatexceedingly disagreeable and very common disease. Loss of smell or hearing also results from catarrh. Hood’s Sarsaparilla, the great blood purifier, is a peculiarly successful remedy for this disease, which it cures by purifying the blood. If you suffer from catarrh, try Hoods Sarsaparilla (fhe Best—in fact the One True Blood Purifier. Hood’s Pills 3," etaiehdae ee EESGEEEEEENENEENEEseeed Comforts of the Gues The night-table is the autocrat of the guest chamber. Upon it one should find a little frame containing a card giving hours of meals, mail hours, etc., a candle with its match box, a cracker or biscuit jar with a dainty collection of crackers, and a jug of water. No room is habitable without the com- panionship of books, and no room is comfortable without a writing-table of some kind. The desks that are found in toy stores for children are often large enough for grown people, and when enamelled and otherwise taste- fully decorated they make delightful little tables for the scribblers. Do not forget a waste-paper basket and a footstool! Too Much Faith by Far. Plugwinch—How did your Theosophi- cal society come to break up? Beeswax—Oh, over the doctrine of re- incarnation. Plugwinch—Couldn’t swallow it, I suppose? Beeswax—Oh, yes. they believed it too strong] We had three incarnated Cleopatras and two Platos, and, of course, they couldn't agree.—Truth. The trouble was Deafness Cannot Be Cured »y local applications, as they cannot reach the diseased portion of the ear. There Is oly one way to cure deafness, and that is oy constitutional remedies. Deafness ~ Is raused by an inflamed condition of the nucous lining of the Eustachian Tube. When this tube gets inflamed you have t rumbling sound or imperfect hearing, ind when it is entirely closed deafness is the result, and unless the inflammation tan be taken out and this tube restored to ts normal condition, hearing will be de- stroyed forever; nine cases out of ten are saused by catarrh, which is nothing bu tn inflamed condition of the mucous sur taces. We will give One Hundred Dollars fo! my case of deafness (caused by catarrh) shat cannot be cured by Hall’s Catarrh Sure. Send for circulars, free. F. J. CHENEY, & CO., Toledo, 0. Sold by Druggists, 5c. Circumstances Alter Cases. Sister—Stick out you tongue and take your powder, like a good girl. You never hear me complaining about such a little thing. Flossie—Neither would I, if I could take it on my face, like you do.—Brook- lyn Life. ‘ Cascarets stimulate liver, kidneys and bowles. Never sicken, weaken or gripe. A Paris shoe dealer is the authority for the statement that Madrid ladies have the smallest feet, while the women of Sweden have the most shapely ones. TO CURE A COLD IN ONE DAY. Take Laxative Bromo Quinine Tablets. All Druggists refund the money if ‘t fails tocure. 25¢ The robin and the wren are the only birds that sing all the year. All the other birds have periodical fits of silence. Just try a 10c box of Cascarets, the finest liver and bowel regulator ever made. Maids of honor may retain their posts in the royal household of England so long as they remain unmarried. There is no fixed age at which they are obliged to retire. Hegeman’s Camphor Ice with Glycerine. ‘The original and only genuine. Cures Chapped Hands ‘and Face, Cold Sores, &c. C. G. Clark Go., N. Haven, Ct. Governesses in families of the nobility seldom, if ever, dine with the heads of the establishment. They take their meals alone or with younger members. Gladness Comes Wit a better understanding of the transient nature of the many phys- ical ills, which vanish before proper ef- forts—gentle efforts—pleasant efforts — rightly directed. There is comfort in the knowledge, that so many forms of sickness are not due to any actual dis- ease, but simply to a constipated condi- tion of the system, which pleasant farnily laxative, S. of Fi ly removes. Phat is a itis a oat remedy with millions of Yamilies, and everywhere esteemed so highly b: , who value goad health. Its boneftial effects are due to the fact, that itis the one remedy which promotes internal cleanliness without debilitating the organs on which it acts. It is therefnra all important, in order to get its bene- ficial effects, to note when you pur- chase, that. you have the genuine arti- cle, which is manufactured by the Cali- fornia Fig Syrup Co. only and sold by all reputable druggists. If in the pea aga of good health, and the system is regular, laxatives or other remedies are then not needed. If afflicted with any actual disease, one may be commended to the most skillful physicians, but if in need of a laxative, one chould have the best, and with the well-informed everywhere, of Figs stands highest and is used ami gives most general, \ 6 \7’ < : a —_— } |