Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, June 25, 1898, Page 6

| prenatal Veoeyeyeleyealeyely) The Doom of Deanshytst. eis ty id CHAPTER L es of Deanshurst. ‘The De When, in 1721, old Simon Deane of Change Alley, in the City of London, and a chief promoter, it was said, of the infamous South Sea Bubble frauds, died, his vast wealth devolved upon a distant kinsman, John Deane, of Deanshurst, in the county of Hamp- The circumstances attending the old death were somewhat sin- of the neighborhood for many & jay tocome. A small, elde wo- poorly clad and of foreign ap- , had led to see him upon been ushered into ate office up stairs by a confi- ai clerk. What had occurred at the interview no one knew, but halt an hour after the stranger had taken her departnre, Simon Deane was found s) eated at his desk and stone-dead. here were no marks of violence upon the body, and no signs whatever of any struggle having taken place. fEwo doctors gave it as their opinion death had resulted from heart dis- ase, and, as no traces could be discoy- ered of the mysterious visitor, the in- quest ended in a verdict of “Death from natural causes.” With this verdict the gossips, of course, disagreed, as being for too tame and commonplace, and were only par- tially contented to accept the confiden- tial Clerk's opinion that his master had died from sheck or fright, or in a fit of temper. The strange woman, he ar- gued, although unknown to him, must have been one of old Simon's numerous dupes, and the object of her visit must have been to upbraid or, perhaps, to threaten him, A subsequent incident seemed to fa- wor this last hypothes A good parket was sent to Change Alley, «< sed to “The heir-at-law of Deane, money-lender and Thie! upon being opened by Mr. John Deane, was of worthles: biack-edged grim couplet: South § i rd bearing the following Renounce his curst gold! For until it be sped, Nota Deane of you all shall die in his ded. Now, this John Deane of Deanshursi was by no means the kind of man to aet npon advice of this sort. He was just a fair type of the ordinary fox- ‘hunting, port-bibbing squire of the pe- ciod, who feared God but vaguely, and man not at all, and who loved. money for the broad acres it could buy, the hunters it could add to his stud and the wines it could put into his cellars. ‘So, with grim humor, he caused the minatory card to be framed and hung up in the dining hall at Deaushurst, ; and proceeded to enjoy himself upon old Simon’s ill-gotten gains after the manner of his kind. In those ys when; as Walpole cyn- jeally remarked, “every man had his price,” it w: an ea tter for a wealthy squire to bribe his way into a and this John Deane (hay- s wife) accordingly did ! later he broke his n the hunting field. | | i nee Within five years his eldest son and their was ‘killed in a duel, and was suc- { -eeeded by a younger brother, who ! reigned at Deanshurst until 1752, when | he was shot in an encounter with a highwayman, leaving an infant son to ‘inherit the family honors, and what | was, by that time, commonly regarded as the family curse. Four sudden | deaths in the same family within thir- ty years, seemed indeed to tell of some malign influence hanging over the. Deanes of Deanshurst. When there followed a long respite. The career of the youthful fourth bar- onet was prosperous and brilliant; and | when the end/came at length, few per- | sons saw anything very remarkable in | the fact that Field Marshal Sir Hum- phry Deane, Bart., K. C. B., should chave expired in his carriage, of an ap- -oplectic fit, at the patriarchal age of eighty-sven. But the superstitious old Hampshire dames shook their heads knowingly as they remarked that yeu another Deane of Deanshurst had | failed to die in his bed, and that the eurse had once more been fulfilled. Sir Humphrey had married times; but only by his last wife—the wife of his old age—had he left male issue, two sons, Derek and Oscar. Der- ek, the elder, of course, succeeded to the title and the entailed estates. His brother Oscar, inherited sufticient ready money to pay off mest of his debts and to purchase his majority in @ dragoon regiment. No very special affection existed be- tween the two brothers. Sir Dereck ~was a selfish, cynical man of the world( who avowedly Ww no higher object in living than to take all the enjoyment possible out of life. Oscar was a typical beau sabreur, careless of the present 4d utterly reck- Jess of the future, always in debt, and by no means punctilious in his shifts to stave off his creditors. He regarded his elder brother chiefly as a b ker, to be drawn upon as his nec ies might require; but Sir Derek u lly refused to be so drawn upon, finding his rent- roll, large as it was, by no means in excess of his own requirements. And, hence, although the dragoon was al- ‘ways more or less welcome to spend as much of his furlough as he chose at Desxshurst, there was never any great corsiality upon either sive. ‘Time wore on. Mic life and entered parliament, but, proving a failure, resigned his seat and retired to Hampshire in disgust. Qs- ear, after distinguishing himself high- I five childrea (of whom two were bo; jehan round to contain a large quantity | § Sir Derek tried pub-' ly in the Crimea as a cavalry leader, sold out at the end of the war, married a girl barely out of her teens, and set- tled down at Bordeaux to escape his duns and enjoy cheap claret. These objects he successfully accom- plished for about fifteen years, at the end of which time he was drowned, owing to the capsizing of a small yacht in the Garronne. Whereupon his wid- ow, who was left practically unprovid- ed for, returned to England with her and threw herself upon the generosity of lis brother. Sir Derek received her very coldly, and made it plain that he was by no means prepared to undertake the charge thus suddenly thrown upon his Lands in a liberal spirit. He had much to say concerning his late brother's life-long extravagance and improvi- dence, and stigmatized the marriage and its consequences, as nothing less than scandalous. “In short,” he added, angrily, “Oscar was in no position to marry a woman with no fortune, and you had no right to marry him. Still less have you any right to expect me to ppay the penalty of your folly by providing for you and your children.” Better would it have been for the widow had she allowed these ebulli- tions: of temper to pass in meek si- lence. But she was a hot-blooded lit- tle woman to whom meekness and si- lence were unknown. “What you say is unjust alike to your brother’s memory and to myself,” she answered, boldly. “When we married he had several thousands of from the sale of his colonel’s on and his retiring pension. e was heir to the title and estates which you still enjoy.” “So! You counted upon my dying first, did you?” sneered Sir Derek. ‘o; not in the sense you would im- ply,” she rejoined, “tho several years your junior were that he would survive “Were they, indeed? Ho ‘es of my marrying a aving a “Oscar was pcesitive throughout that you would never 1 y,”’ was the re- ply. “In this, at all events, he was : and as his eldest son is 2 your heir, surely I, his mother, have claim upon you, as head of the family, to enable me to rear him and the other children!” “Claim!” repeated Sir Derek, testily. “Legally you have none whatever, if that is what you mean. Some sort ot ‘moral’ claim (as the cant phrase goes) you may have; and, in any case, it is not my intention that you and your children should become paupers. Let me add, madam, that you have main- ned a defiant tone throughout this nterview, very much out of place in | the mouth of a person asking a favor. And now I will tell you what I 2m prepared to do. How old is this eldest boy ef yours?” Oscar will be eleven in November,” she answered, somewhat cowed by her brother-in-law’s harsh, decided tone. “His brother, Stephen, is two years ! | younger.” “Never mind about his brother,” snapped the baronet, “so Iemg as the elder lives. It is upon this boy, Oscar, as being my heir, that you base your claims to my assistance. Very well. 1 will relieve you of all further trouble so far as he is concerned. For the rest, I will make you an allowance of £500 a year, with £50 a year for each of your children, to pay for their education. Dces this proposal suit you?’ Mrs. Oscar Deane hesitated. The al- , She admitted to herself, was fairly liberal—more so, indeed, than she had expected from Sir Derek’s pre- vious remarks. But she had _ enter- tained hopes of making Deanshurst her home, of reigning, so to speak, over the establishment of her elderly baeh- | elor brether-in-In-law. Sir Derek looked at her with # haff- neer upon his thin lips, as though di- vining her thoughts, but he awaited her reply without further comment. “The amount you have named,” sh auswered, presently, “would perhaps suffice for the children and myself. Where do you wish me to reside “Wherever you like,” was the quick rejoinder, “providing the locality chos- en jis not within fifty miles of Deans- | hurst.” nen you desire all further inter- | j couse between us to cease?’ she quer- three jied, with heightened color. “Quite so,” he assented, drily, “for some years to come, at all events. If I am to take charge of this eldest boy of yours, he must pass wholly under my influence and control, wholly out of yours. ‘stand me?” “Iam not sure that I do,” she made answer, nervously. “Do you propose to part us, my child and myself, en- Do you under- that is precisely what I >ro- pose. Coldly, harshly, deliberately, the eru- el words fell from his lips and went straight to the mother’s heart. “Do you make this a condition of your proffered help?’ she demanded, with flashing eyes. “What if I refuse to part with my boy? “No,” said Sir Derek, in his iciest manner, “I attach no conditions to the allowance, except that, should you tmarry again, your portion of it will at once cease. But I will adopt the bh only upon condition that you give him up completely. If you refuse to part With him, as you suggest, I shall add #5) to. your income, and wash my hands of him, as of the rest. That is all, madam.” “Then, be it so, Sir Derek!” she ex- claimed, indignantly. “I do refuse to part with him upon such cruel terms!” “Very well,” replied the baronet, shrugging his shoulders with real-or f decision on his behalf, but—’ were | and therefore | wellfeigned indifference, “there the matter ends so far as I am concerned. When your son grows up he mty, or may not, thank you for your present “Ne will still be your heir!” she inter- | rupted, as though in justification of her refusal. “Meaning that the title and entailed estates must devolve npon him at my death?’ retorted Sir Derek, savagely. “Time will tell, madam. Meanwhile, so long as I live, the sum of £750 will yearly be placed to your credit at Child’s Bank, Temple Bar.” ‘This closed the interview, and term- inated the widow's first and only visit to Sir a She returned at once to London, and shortly afterwards estab- lished herself at Cheltenham, feeling easy in her mind as to the future. Sir Derek was sixty years of age, so that, if he escaped the strangely-verified “curse of Deanshurst,” he could not be expected, in the ordinary course of na- ture, to stand between her eldest son and the property for any great length of time. And, meanwhiie she would have an income sufficient to maintain her something more than comfortably. Alas, for the uncertainty of the most reasonable calculations! Within two months of her visit to Deanshurst, she was horrified to see the following no- tice in the Morning Post: Deare—Aubry—Upon September 2nd, at St. Peter’ Winchester, by the Rey. S. Mowle, M. A., Sir Derek Deane, Bart., of Deanshurst, to Alice, only daughter of the late Capt. Au- bry, R. N. No cards. It is probably not too much to say that, if wishes could have killed, Sir ; Derek and his bride would have en- | joyed but a brief honeymoon. Marr‘ed! And at his time of life!) How vividlv she recalled his parting words, and now bitterly she regretted her own fol- ly in provoking them! For, of course, nothing could be plainer than that Sir Derek had married to spite her, and in the hope of excluding her boy Oscar from the succession. In the bittern of her heart she could barely ref: from praying that the family curse might carry them off ere that hope could be fulfilled. But the curse was not to be thus hurried. It had become a leisurely heirloom. When the time had gone by, making a certain much-dreaded eventuality possible, Mrs. Deane dail, ‘anned the first column of the Morning Post and ‘Times with feverish interest. A very foolish frame of mind to allow oneself | to fall into, no doubt, since the sus- | pense might have lasted for years; but | she could not help it. And, in due | time ,she learned the worst: Deare—At Deanshurst, Hants, on the | 10th inst., the wife of Sir Derek | Deane, Bart., of a son. | | For full a minute she sat staring at | this printed deathblow to her hopes. Then, woman-like, she crushed the of- fending paper, dashed it into the fire- place and burst into tears, “What's the matter, ma?’ queried twelve-year-old Oscar, running up to her side in some alarm. | “The matter, my darling!’ she re- peated, straining him passionately to her bosom. “They have robbed you of your birthright, poor ehild. Your uncle Derek has got another heir.” “Has he?” remarked the boy, but dimly realizing the extent of his mis- fortune. “Then I'll punch the new | heir’s head—you see if I don’t!” “If I were you, I'd kill him,” sug- | gested his brother Stephen, a_ sick child of ten. “Then you'd be the heir again, wouldn’t he, ma?” Mrs. Deane shuddered. “Hush, child!” | she said, reprovingly. “You must not say such wicked things!’ Then she shuddered again, as though a cold blast had swept over her. Somehow, she did not know why, there seemed to be something ominous of future evil in the child's words. CHAPTER IT Derek he Younges. Why is it that sons born to elderly fathers so often grow up to be scamps er prigs? Is it because, however great may be the affection of an old man for his ehild, it 1s a physical and mental impessibility for any real sympathy in tastes and wishes to exist between them? Or is it because age is so dic- tatorial and so little prone to make al- lowances for the follies of youth, that the latter is driven to trickery and | falsehood te hide its backsliding: r Derek was in his sixty-second year when the heir was born to him whose advent had so entirely upset Mrs. Deane’s calculations. His wife did not long survive the birth of her child, and young Derek’s early years were spent under the rule of a succes- sion of nurses and governesses. A rapid and lengthy succession it was, too, for, what with the despotic regu- lations and whims of the father and the fractious disposition of the child, few of them could endure the nursery at Deanshurst for more than three months, Amongst the old man’s idiosyncrasies was an invincible prejudice against schools, private or public; and, conse. quently ,at an age when he ought to have been undergoing the salutary dis- cipline of Harrow or Rugby, the boy was making the lives of the tutors, who had succeeded the governesses, 2 burden to them, Finally, at the age of sixteen, he re- volted successfully against even their nominal sway, and herteforth did exactly as he pleased. Sir Derek, it is true, occasionally asserted his para- mount authority, in a fitful outburst of temper; but, on the whole, the son was rather more mast2r at Deanshurst than the father. i The oft-verified family curse had taken a very strong hold ef the aged baronet’s mind, and he had gradually become almost morbidly anxious to evade its fulfilment in his own person. His own morose, cynical temperament had long ago cut him off from anything like friendly intimacy with men of his own class, and he had-fallen back, for such society as he needed, upon his butler and his housekeeper, who, as it happened, were man and wife, and who, wide-eyed to their own interests, hurored his oe whim, Indeed, so indispensable had they contrived to render themselves to the old despot ,and so great was the as- cendancy they had gained over him, that even young Derek, who hated them both cordially, found it expedient to treat them with at least an outward show of friendliness. But they well knew that, with their master’s death, their tenure of office at Deanshurst would terminate, and hence they were as anxious as the baronet himself that his life should be prolonged to the ut- most possible limit. Once an idea takes firm root in the brain of a yery old person, it infallibly develops into a mania, and Sir Derek’s ‘mania took the form of a conviction that, so long as he remained in bed, he cculd not die but that every minute he spent out of bed was fraught with peril to his existence. Love of life was strong within him, His excursions be- yond his bedroom by degrees became less frequent and of shorter duration, until they ceased altogether, and he be- came voluntarily bed-ridden. “Were I a younger man,” he would sometimes remark to Hirst, the butle1, “I'd bar the entail, under the new act, and make ducks and drakes of the property. That would satisfy the Old Woman in Black and her master, too, eh, Hirst?” “Why, yes, sir,’ Hirst would suavely reply. “Old Simon’s money would be ‘sped’ right enough if you did that, and there’d be an end of the matter, curse and all.” “No doubt, no doubt. But I am too old for that sort of thing, now, and I can’t bring myself to break up Deans- hurst, just to satisfy the spite of an old witch who died more than a century and a half ago. So I'll stick to 1. present plan wherby, curse or no curse, I must die in my bed or not die at all. And, upon my faith, Hirst, I believe I shall live to the age of Methu- selah!” Whereupon the butler would remark to his wife that Old Grumpy was be- coming madder every day; and she would bid him hold his tongue for a wooden-headed fool, forasmuch as bed was not only the safest place for the old man, but of the utmost assistance to them in their little game. And no doubt it was. Naturally enough, Derek, the young- er, Was not slow to take full advantage of the additional freedom given to him by his father’s voluntary isolation. Having the one redeeming quality, at all events, of being extremely fond of sport, his life during the shooting and hunting seasons, was a reasonably steady one. True, he sometimes invit- ed guests to Deanshurst whom his fa- ther would not willingly have allowed to cross the threshold, and taxed Hirst’s patience severely in his de- mands upon the wine-cellar to satisfy his disreputable hangers-on. But the astute butler always found it better worth his while to wink at these invasions than to come to an open rupture with the young heir by complaining to Sir Derek. After all, tips are tips, whether they come from a nobleman or a horse-dealer; the cost | of the wine consumed did not come out of his (Hirst’s) pocket; and he was es- sentially wise in his generation. It was, however ,during the months when there were neither birds to be | shot nor foxes to be hunted that Der- ek, finding the time hang heavily on his hands, gave free scone to his innate wildness of disposition. After a time the comparatively mild temptations to dissipation offered by Winchester and Southampton pallec upor him, and a couple of flying visits to London convineed him that in the Metropolis alone could a spirited young fellow of nineteen find real happin And in Londo he accordingly resolved to spend the wearisome summer months: But one difficulty presented itself: it was necessary,. for financial reasons, that he should obtaim his father’s eon- | sent and the necessary funds. How? f He coulil think of no reasonable pre- | text, and took counsel with the butler, who, he rightly surmised, would be by no means sorry to get rid of him, for a time, at least. “I say, Hirst, what sort of a temper is the governor in?’ he inquired, di- plomatically. “I want to see him.” “Well, sir, he ain’t particularly out- | rageous to-day,”” was the cautious re- ply. “But if I might venture to advise you, Master Derek, I wouldn’t say any- thing likely to stir him up. He's grown awfully crochety lately.” ‘ »chety!”” repeated Derek, with a mocking laugh. “When was he any- thing else but crochety?) See here, Hirst, you understand him better than I do, and [ want your help.” “Only too pleased, I’m sure, sir,” murmured the: butler: “I want to stay in London for a few months,” continued Derek, “and I don’t see what excuse I can make to quite the governor: You understand? “Oh, yes, sir! I understand right enough, asserted Hirst, witl a know- ing grin.. “Let me see—you can’t very well say it’s for your health—nor yet for business, seeimg you haven't got none. Hold hard! I have it. Tell him you're just sick of doing nothing, and that you want to study for a ecommis- sion in the army.. That'll de the trick, Master Derek, I'l wager—especially if you let me give him a@ hint Lefore- hand.” “All right,” said Derek, “you see him first, and let me know when I= to draw the old badger.” Whatever the arguments used by the wily old butler, eertain it is that the old baronet listened favorably to his son’s awkwardly-preferred request. “So you want to go to London at a erammer’s for a commission, do you?’ he remarked, doubtingly. “I won't in- quire too elosely as to whether that is your real reason, or merely a pretext to have your fling in town, because I hate being lied to. Ill write to my lawyers to make arrangements with the best crammer they can find, end then you may go as soon as you like. For your expenses, you may draw on me for £50 a month.” . “That’s rather short allowance,” pro- tested Derek. “Vor a lad of nineteen!” retorted his father, angrily. “Stuff and nonsense! Anyway, it’s your limit, so make the most of it. You may do what you pease with the estate when I am gone, but so long as I live, you'll have to study economy. There! Now be off, and send Mr. Hirst to me.” (To be Continued.) One ‘thing Worse. Miss Prude—Could you imagine any- thing more detestable than flattery? Miss Belle—Yes; having to live in g world without any.—Brooklya Life. | but very poor mothers. Steer and Weifer Beef. Farmers’ Bulletin 73: Widely differ- ent opinions are held as to the com- parative value of steer and heifer becf. American packers rate steers at from 25 to 50 cents per hundred more than heifers of the same age, breed and gen- eral qualities. On the other hand, the opinion in England is the reverse, heifer beef being rated higher than Steer beef. For some years feeding ex- periments have been made at the Iowa station to study the comparative value of steers and heifers for fattening. In the first trial one lot of steers, one lot of spayed heifers, and one lot of open heifers were used. They were all grade Shorthorns, as nearly alike in breeding and development as possible. There were five animals in each lot. The lots were fed and treated in the Same manner. Seven of the heifers calved during the trial, which inter- fered with the comparison. The steers made a larger gain and sold for 1 cent Per pound, live weight, more than the heifers. During the whole test, which lasted about eleven months. the steers made an average gain of 806 pounds; one open heifer, clear of calf, gained 775 pounds; four open heifers that had calves made an average gain of 628 pounds; two spayed heifers, clear of calf, made an average gain of 736 pounds; and three spayed heifers that had calves averaged 645 pounds gain. The steers were sold at 5.75 cents and the heifers at 4.75 cents per pound, live weight. Allowing 3.5 cents per pound for the steers and 2 cents for the heifers at the beginning of the trial, there was a profit of $64.39 on the steers, $30.51 on the unspayed heif- ers and $13.76 on the spayed heifers. The average proportion of beef in the carcass was 63.2 per cent for the steers, 62.4 for the unspayed heifers and 62.8 for the spayed heifers. When slaugh- tered the carcasses were cut and judg- ed by an expert. The heifers gave a larger percentage of prime cuts (ribs and loins) than the steers, so that, on the basis of the meat and by-products obtained and the price paid for the Steers, the heifers were worth from 0.57 to 0.62 cent a poumd more than was paid for them. Crediting each lot with the actual value of the different cuts and the by-products, and not in- cluding the expense of killing and handling, it is calculated that, at the prices which the butcher paid, made $20.45 on the steers, $58.12 the unspayed heifers, and $64.84 the spayed heifers. In other words, returns made by the heifers wou! have justified a purchase price of $5. per hundred for the spayed heifers and $5.32 for the open heifers, instead of $4.75 for each, and still have left 2 same profit as with the steer.” Rennet.—Rennet is prepared from the lowest or fourth stomach of the calf. As soon as the calf is killed, cut this open at one end, empty it of its contents, then turn it inside out. Dip a cloth in dry, fine salt, and carefully wipe the inner surface until not a par- ticle of curdled milk remains. Do not wash it, as that extracts the gastric juice. Rub thoroughly with fine salt, both inside and outide, place in an earthen dish and cover closely. In twenty-four hours or less a brine will form. Turn the skin and leave it in the pickle another day. Stretch the skin on a slender green stick that can be bent bow-shape, and hang it.te dry. When thoroughly dry, cut it in suit- able shaped pieces, and keep ima self- sealing can. It may be cut into strips, put in a quart bottle, and if the bottle is filled with any sweet wine, currant, grape, etc., it will keep a year,.er can be used in ten or twelve days. A tea- spoonful of the solution will “set” a quart of sweet milk.—Country, Gentle- man. Skimmilk Starter.—Cream: left to 1t- self will spontaneously become sour: this is the result of the growth of lac. tic acid bacteria which feed upon the milk sugar, and as a final process, convert it into a lactic acidi. Other forms of bacteria are always: present in cream; some have little-orno effect in the ripening process, wiiile others, if allowed to develop, produce undesir- able and often obnoxious flavors, To cultivate and develop tlinse “wild” germs, is called “spontaneous” ripen- ing, aad is often attended with uncer- tainty. Good butter-making demands the use of a “starter,” either home- made or a pure culture: The former should be made of selected: skim-milk. Weight of Leghorns:—We have al- ways preferred the Legttorn hen that weighed three or tlires and one-half pounds when fully: matured. We believe this to be the cornect weight for her. We have had them to weigh four pounds occasionally. But a five-pound pure-bred Leghorn we never owned. We have bred from: amd reared a few heavy weight Laghorms, but we never admired them. nor did we ever find them so profitabl@ as egg producers as their sisters af the true Leghorn type. —Nellie Hawks, in National Stockman. Remove the Chieks—A Few Hens says: In hatchimg ducks under: hens, At is besh to remove them from the nest the moment they are dry, as they are more or less restless, and the hen is very apt to tread upon them. Hens make good incubators for duck eggs, The duckling is toe weak in the legs to keep up with the aetivity of the mother hen. There is maore laber attached to duek raising tham to amy other branch of. poultry eutture, but the profits are better, when the business is once understood, {dte Land—Why do farmers permit their Iong lanes to go to waste year after year? This ts a fearfu) extraya- gance in the end; then there are the old nooks, which are not as produetive ss they should ke. In all these spaces something in the line of roost crops fodder crops or potatoes could be grown. Every foot of land should pay mere than its own taxes azd interest —Kr, Purified Blood Was Weak and Nervous But Hood’s Made Him Healthy and Strong. “T was feeling very dull and could not sleep at night. After I had taken two bottles-of Hood’s Sarsaparilla I felt more like myseff and was soon healthy and strong. Hood’s Sarsaparilla purified es blood and did me ta 8 good.” Roy M. DALE, Hammond, Minn. Hood’s Sarsaparilla Is America’s Greatest Medicine. $1; six for $5. Hood’s Pills cure indigestion, biliousness. , A Disastrous Call, “And—ah—was he called suddenly?” asked the heir of the deceased cattle- man, “He wasn’t called at all,” Rubber- neck Bill explained. “It all come from his callin’ the other feller.” List of Patents Issued Last Week to Northwestern Inventors. Albert B. MeMullen, Lennox, 8. D., foldable straw carrier for threshing machines; Jehiel T. Moore, Minneapo- lis, Minn., telephone holder; Thomas J. Martin, Sleepy Eye, Minn., drainable pipe for tanks; Carl Rondell, Minneap- olis, Minn., bundle carrier for bicycles; Charles J. Smith, Minneapolis, Minn., everalls; Lewis Hare, Custer, 8. D. (design) instep stiffener; Charles D. Sprague, Minneapolis, Minn., (design) badge. Merwin, Lothrop & Johnson, Patent Attor- neys, 910 Pioneer Press Building, St. Paul. Looked So. “That’s old Cash, the millionaire; began life as an offiee-boy, and made himself entirely.” “Hum! and made his own clothes and boots, too, I should think?”—Ally Sloper. Try Allen's Foot-Kase. A powder to be shaken into the shoes. At this season your feet féel swellen,.nervous and. hot, and get tired easily. If you have smarting feet or tight shoes, try Allen’s Foot-Ease. It cools the feet and makes walking easy. Cures swollen andi sweating feet,. blis- ters and callous spots. Relieves corns and bunions: of all pain and gives rest and comfort. Try it today. Sold by all druggists and shoe stores for 25c. Trial package free. Address Allen S Olmsted. Le Rov. N. Y. Read the Advertixements; You will enjoy this:publication mac better if you will get into the habit of reading the advertisements; they will afford a most interesting study, and Will put you in the way of getting some excellent bargains. Our advertisers are reliable; they send what they: adver- tise. or suits are not much worn by: mem this ng. Fourth of July Rates. Via Chicago Great Western Railway (Ma- ple Leaf Route) will be one fare for the round trip to any point on the Great Western lines within two hundred miles of starting point. Tickets will be sold Ju- ly 2, 3 and 4, and will be good for return until and including July 5. Why not take an outing then, and secure the advantage of the one-fare rate? Some school teachers appear to: beHeve: in kandcuffing mischievous pupils . 1TS PormanertlyCured. Nofits crnervousnessafter rst day's usa of Dr. Kline's Great Nerve Restorer. Send tor FREE $2.00 trial bottle and trestise be. R.H. Kise, Ltd..931 Arch St.. Philadelphia, Pa, The best-known remedy {cry laziness; is to go t owork . Piso’s Cure for Consumption is:our only medicine for coughs and colds.—Mrs. C. Beltz, 430 8th ave., Denver, Col., Nav. 8,95. ‘The hard places in life are never. made any: better by growling. Hall's Catarrh Cure Is teken internally. Price, 75c.. Beauty may only be’ skin-deep, . but: the» pride of it reaches into the heart. COSMO BUTTERMILK TOILET SOAP’ makes the skin soft, white and healthy. Sold everywhere. No man can ever’ be= great’ all! by: himself; somebedy else pops up anlitells what: a good) mother he had . No-To-Bac tor Fifty Cents: Guaranteed tobacco habit cure, makes-wealt: men strong, blood pure. 50c, $1. All druggists. A barber-is-a:mam:of many parts. THE ILLS OF WOMEN And How Mrs. Pinkham Helps + Qvercome Them.. Mrs. Many BoLninceEr, 1101 Marianna St., Chicago, DL,.to Mrs. Pinkham: “T have: beem troubled for the past. two years: with falling of the womb, leucorrheea,. pains over my body, sick headaches,, backache, nervousness and weakness.. I tried: doctors and various remedies,without relief. After taking two battles, eff your Vegetable Com- pound, the-relief I obtained} was truly wonderful. Ihave now taken several more bottles of your famous; medicine, and ean say that I am entirely eured.” Mrs,.Henpy Dorr, No. 806 Findley St., Cincinnati, Ohio, to Mrs. Pinkham: ‘For @ long time I suffered with chrenie inflammation ef the womb, pain im abdomen and bearing-down feeling. Was very nervous attimes, and s@wealk I was hardly able to do any- thing: Was subject toheadaches, also troubled with leucorrhea. After doc- toring for many months, with different physicians, and getting no relief, I had given up all hope of being well again when I read of the great good Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vi Zable Com- pound was doing. 1 dt, @immedi- ately to give itatrial. Th ult was simply past belie® After taking four dottles of Vegetable Compound and using three packages of Sanative Wash Ican say I fee} like a new woman. I deem it my duty to announce the fact?’ to my fellow sufferers that Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable remedies have entirely cured me of all my and suffering. Ihave her alone to thank for my recovery, for which Iam grate- ful. May heaven bless her for the good work she is doing for our sez.” >