Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, November 18, 1899, Page 6

f it | CHAPTER XXX. (Continred.) By a supreme effort she half. herself. She staggered, and, not to f: she rested both hands upon the flag ging of the tomb eorge,” she distinguishable voice, breaking. I am stifling. give me ed “You ask for air in the tomb!” he an- , With bitterness. hen I must pray,’ she continued; bandoning her resting place, she ain upon her knees. “Oh, God, what agony!” murmured George. “Yet, I can do nothing, unl to dash out my brains against these a cursed walls!” While this touching scene was bei ed within the sepulchre, the faki is glace toward the band of ing itself in the east. .” he said, “the morning on the horizon. Let us throw some perfumes in the br ‘The fire which burns in Bowhan itil her victims vith a hardly- heart is —in mercy, sw and, sank : Brahmins poured upo.w ing ¢c¢ an 4 powde white and odorous ke ix ”” resumed the fakir, knees and uplifting ¢ form came out g the terrace, ending the steps which lea falling upon h both hand: of the ps began d te the rden, Behiud her were outlined three or four dark shadows. “Who comes there?’ questioned the fakir. “¥, the Princess Djella,” responded the apparition. tt indeed the princess, followed by two men and a child. The two men en assassins of Bohanie; Kazil. ached the sepulchre. The ‘akir and Brahmins made reverence before her. “Guard ns of the tomb,” she asked, “have the victims ceased to live? No, pring .” responded the fakir; “jf will vot be before the third day that hunger and thirst shall have completed their work.” “The third day!” repeated “Only the third day?” “Yes, prince j “You are sure of it The fakir made an affirmative ges- ‘ture. “Then,” cried the young woman, “it ts too long!” She put her ear against the bronze portal. “i hear nothing,” she “Within is silence—the death.” “What must be done, prince: tioned the fakir. “All must be finished. Some news which has just reached me calls me at once to Benares, where I shall remain until evening, in order to go from there to the Cemetery of the Elephants and give the signal for extermination. It is only death from which there is no escape. I wish to trust nothing to chance, and to leave behind me the dead—not the living!” “Command us, and your will shall be obeyed.” “God of the Christians protect us muttered Kazil to himself. “What will she command?” “I have given the captives to Bow- hanie,” she answered. “When the, es- cort which conducts me to Benares shall have crossed the limit of my do- minions, one of my slaves will return to you and ‘The goddess waits.’ ”’ “And then?” asked the fakir. “Then these two brothers of the ter- rible work will enter the sepulchre, which you will open to them, and use Djella. murmured. silence of * ques- wishes of the god‘less find us ready.” Addressing Kazil} she continued: “K. , miy child, Edward Malcolm's knife made flow your blood at the at- tack on the bungalow. I will put your vengeance in your hands. When the signal shall be given, you shall lead the Thugs to Edward Malcolm's prison.” “Thanks, princess,” answered Kazil. Djella extended her hand toward the tomb. “Aceursed ones!” she cried. “You will be the first offered in sacrifice!” ‘The princess. returned as she had eome. The fakir resumed his ecstatic attitude. The Brahmins again seated themselves on the steps, and silence fell upon the ‘gardens. “George, pray with me,” implored Hera, within the tomb. “I suffer so xauch that I ask God to call me quickly to Himself.” “Human pride, lower your head!” ex- «claimed George Malcolm. “This child fs strenger than I. She can sti awhile I can only curse. 5 tha iden me hope, when there is no \hope?” A half-hour went by; when a rapid ‘step could be heard behind the cluinp of cypress trees. The fakir, vi sentinel, lifted his head. “Who is there? he asked, A slave appeared before him end re- «sponded, me to you.” “What to tel! me?” “Three words.” “And these?” “The goddess waits.” “Tt is well.” The fakir turned‘ toward the two 1 Thugs and asked them: ‘Are you read. Ve are ready une, then, and do your duty.” ly Souniancy ascended the last s, and introduced a key in the lock ‘at portal. t,” he added, invoke the god- d prepare your lassoes.” ey turned twice with a loud orge sprang up. the lock!” he cried. and mute, he listened. oul was concentrated in senses, * murmured Hera, sadly, “they us death—the death for which I a God!” nswered Geor} : it is not death.” ut. then, is it?” ty! Life!” de transfigured, “Li A sudden inspiration, rapid and lu- minous as lightning, ercssed his mindd. “do not interrupt Lie down upon this hasten!” rstanding nothing, the “hild,” he said, and obi Although un young girl instantly obeyed. Gecrge covered her with the sacred veil taken from the sanctuary of the goddess, and concealed about his per- son. At instant the heavy portal ing back, and the voice of the fakir eried cut “Enter and strike!” The Thugs, lasso in hand, entered the sepulchre and advanced slowly, with a sort of instinctive defiance and super- stit terror. Behind them came 2 th a torch. icderly, all three recoiled, utte: deepest stupefaction wri ir countenances. and walk!” muttered George to he yeung girls, enveloped in the folds of t red tissue, rose and took a step ard. The two natives fell knees. “The veil of the goddess!” exclaimed the “ostrating himself until his bowed upon the marble floor- upon their tock Hera in his arms. he said, in a voice of thunder, “the veil of the goddess. Prostrate yourselves, slaves, before the chosen of Pewhanie, and remember that he among you who betrays, by a word, the seeret of anything which has here taken place shall die by Bowhanie’s thunderbolt!” “\Ve will be mute!” stammered the fa The ‘Thugs and Brahmins repeated in turn, and in a submissive voice: “We will be mute.” “It is well,” replied George. wise, misfortune be upon you.” He went out from the tomb and de- scended the steps. Behind him the jail- ers remained prostrated, their heads in the dust. ‘’ waited with anxiety, concealed shade of the cypress trees. the God of the Christians be be murmured. “Master, you ‘Other- blindness of these fanatics!” answered George. “We must not lose an instant,” con- tinued the child. ‘Come, deliver Sir Edward and Stop. Horses are in read- iness, and you can then fly!” “You know where is my brother's prison?” “Yes.” “Lead me there.” “Come.” As in the tomb, the sacred veil pro- duced among Edward's keepers its in- fallible effect. The prison doors were opened before it. Once more the brothers were united, and Stop felt again the pressure of his master’s hand. “Where are the horses, Kazil?” asked George. “Without the gates of the palace, in a small clump of woods.” “Do you know the palace of the Ra- jah Doorgal Sahib?” “Yes,” “How long before it will be possible to reach there, by giving. my horses wings?” “Two hours.” “Let us be off, then. anguish consume me. I am on red-hot coals,” “It is impossible!” answered George. “I must share your danger.” “Again it is impossible. You must, without losing a moment, take Hera to Benares and place her in safety in the palace of the governor. Nor is that all —the safety of our countrymen, even the existence of the East India Compa- ny, is in our hands!” “How? I do not understand you.” “You will understand in saying to Lord Singleton that the plot divined by our father is ripe for execution, You will tell him that to-night, at the Ceme- tery cf the Elephants, the Princess Djella, supreme cbief of the conspir- ators, will give the signal for the mas- sacre, Which will cause English blood to flow until the waves of the Ganges run red to the sea. Do you now com- prehend, Edward, that your place is at Benares?” “I understand,” answered the young man, “and I hasten to depart. But say to Agnes, my brother, that I wished to save her—to fight near her, and, near her, to conquer or to die!” “You shall yourself tell her, Edward, in a few hours.” All this was said while hastening to the woods, where the horses were in waiting. There were four of them, one with a side-saddle. George placed Hera on the latter, and the three men sprang to saddl Impatience and It appears that ter,” said Kazil, “we will not be separated. You cannot do without me. rhe country is unknown to you, and I will guide you through the shortest and lonst Cangerous reutes. Your face, “Fakir Sounlancy, the princess eae so skilfully bronzed, gives you the ap- pesrance of a Hindoo chief. Make a turban of your belt, and if we meet any natives, they will pass you without remark.” George followed the boy’s suggestion, Even his brother declared him un- recognizable in the picturesque head- dress. ‘Then the little group divided, and George Malcolm, accompanied only by Kazil, set out on his perilous and form- idable undertaking. CHAPTER XXXIII. In the midst of a large and splendid- ly-appointed ante-chamber, Doorgal Sal walked with a rapid and fever- ish step, stopping an instant only again to recommence his promenade like that of a wild beast in its cage. When he had walked so long that fa- tigue conquered him, he fell upon a divan, but instantly rc8e, brusquely, as if repose were to him impossible, , All the bad passions were depicted upon his countenance. A blue circle was drawn about his eyes, and, at tines, a fierce anger sparkled there. Nor was the anger motiveless: For the first time his all-powerful will had been baffled, and by a young girl’s firmness. Agnes’ resistance tnd d'sdain were in- surmountable obstacles, against which prayers, promises, threats and suppli- cations were of no avail. “Conquered by a child.” It was tco much for the rajah’s pride, He felt his love changed into hatred, and the fierce instincts of his nature sprang to the surface. He determined to try one last temptation, and then, if this temptation failed— But how & press Doorgal’s thought? Sencing for the matron, he ques- tioned her: “What does the young girl do?” “She weeps.” “Have you been able to reassure and calm her?” “All that one woman may say to an- other I have said, illustrious lord; and I believe, without vanity, that you would have been gratified to have heard me.” “What has she answered?” “Not a word.” “You spcke to her in English, how- ever?” “Yes; but she appeared not to under- stand. The more I talked, the more she scbbed.” “Has she consented to eat?” “She has not touched fcod or water.” “Has she taken no.repose?” “None, illustrious lord.” “But if she neither eats, nor drinks nor sleeps, she will die.” “Such, I believe, is her intention,” answered the matron. Doorgal shivered. “She wishes to die!” he cried. “Then I will prove the supreme temptation. I will try to save her. If she opposes me, misfortune follow her. Go bring her here,” he commanded, “and leave me alone with her. But first send Myn- dah to me.” Ayesha went out to fulfill her double mission. Aimost peared, “Myndha,” ordered Doorgal, giving her a key, “go to my chamber, and open with this key the iron safe oppo- site my bed. You will see there a sil- ver flask. a vermillion plate and a gold goblet. Place the flask and the goblet on the threshold, return here, and if I am not alone, conceal yourself behind these hangings. When you hear me strike the bell, appear, and come to- ward me plate in hand. Do you under- stand?” “Most illustrious lord, I understand.” “Go, then, and hasten.” Hardly had the slave disappeared, when the door opened to admit into the apartment the matron ,followed by Ag- nes. The former merely crossed the thresh- old, retiring again without speaking, in obedience to the rajah’s orders. Agnes had so altered since the day previous as to be scarcely recogniza- ble, but her beauty was not’ the less dazzling. Her superb hair floaetd in sunny waves over her shoulders; a singular paleness lent her an appearance of great delicacy; her eyes, always large, seemed larger; great tears, like liquid pearls, hung on her long lashes, and fell, on by one. Seeing Doorgal opposite her, her re- gard expressed not terror, but wither- ing scorn and indignation. Instead of retreating or endeavoring to escape, she approached nearer him, as she asked: “Is it again to torture me that you have had me brought near you? To impose such a punishment upon one who has not deserved it, is both cow- ardly and cruel.” “Agnes,” exclaimed Doorgal, “is it to impose a punishment to repeat to you that I love you?” , “Yes; for your love is insult!” “Insult? ’ “Doubtless; sirce ycu well know that I cannot be yours.” “You have not, then, understood, Ag- nes, the lengths to which my passion for you will carry me?” “I wish to understand nothing.” “If you knew—” “JT wish to know nothing.” “At least, listen to me.” “f wish to hear nothing.” Deogsal stamped his foot in anger. “I will, however, speak!” he cried; “and whether you so desire or not, my words must reach your ears! You ac- cuse me of cruelty, Agnes; yet is is you who, holding my heart in your hands, crush it pitilessly. Am I guilty, then, in having loyed you? The fault is yours, rather than mine—yours, whose beauty shines and warms as does the sun. My only crime is in pos- sessing vision. Is it a dishonorable love that I offer you? I am a prince, end possessor of enormous wealth. Well, at your feet I lay my name, my title and my fortune!” “I refuse it all!” answered Agnes, eagerly; “and shall always refuse!” “Because defiance blinds you,” re- immediately Myndha_ ap- sumed Doorgal Sahib—“because you cannot believe in me, and seek to dis- cover treachery lurking in my speech. Banish these foolish fears! Consent to become my wife, and I promise to ful- fill all the formalities prescribed by your laws and by your religion, to make sure the links of an indissolnbie union. You see, Agnes, that I am sin. cere—you see that my love, however ardent it may be, is nct wanting in re- spect. You see, moreover, that my dearest and most imperious desire is to make you my wife!’ “You well know that it is impossi- ble.” e “And why?” “Because I have given my heart to George Malcolm.” “But,” cried Doorgal, “‘George Mal- colm is dead!” “Murdered by you—is it not so?” “By me or by another, what mattcrs it, pl ded he may no longer be my rival?" “If George Malcolm is still living,” answered Agnes, with feverish intens- ity, “I am his betrothed! Jf he has ceased to live, Iam his widow!” “You will forget him.” “Never!” “At your age, one does not shut a tomb within the heart. You will back that heart, to gi “Do you, then, know some magic,” she asked, her eyes fearlessly meeting his, “sutticiently potent to convert into love the hate and disdain with which you inspire me?” These words, pronounced with bitte: irony, developed beyond control the an- ger which sullenly lurked in the ra jah’s soul. His eyebrows met in a threatening arch, a burning crimson overspread his face, and lightning leaped from his eyes. “Impudent child!” he cried, in a fierce and threatening tone, “you defy me? Take care!” “What have I to fear?’ answered Agnes. “God protects me.” “You forget that you are in m) hands.” “No; but I also remember that you are in the hands of God!” “I supplicate, when I might com- mand—I eptreat, when it depends upon myself to execute my will. Agnes, Ag- nes, take care!” “What can you do? Kill me—that is all. For, however powerful you m be, I defy you to mz me submissiv to your hated | “Yes; I can k sist in your o I will do it! “Do it, then! It is the the sole mercy, that it is me to expect from you! gal Sahib—kill ne quickly you, you will send George!” For a second or two the rajau mute and tottering, like a man who ‘has just received, aimed at his heart, a terrible blow. : He scon recovered himself, although his voice was almost indistinct as he questioned: “Between the tomb, then, and my love, you will choose?” “The tomb!” answered the young girl; “and do me the honer to rest con- vinced that I should not hesitate!” “Ah, well, so be it!” Agnes recommended her soul to God. She expected to see Doorgal draw his dagger and plunge it in her breast. In- stead, he approached the table and struck the bell. A movement followed behind the hangings, and Myndha appeared, car- rying on the vermillion plate the flask of silver and the goblet of gold. She put these on the table and departed, Doorgal, advancing, took the and filled from it the goblet. “Drink!” he said, offering it to Agnes —“drink!” “Is it death?” she asked. “It is death; but there is yet time to escape it. Say but one word, and you shall live and be happy!” Agnes clutched the goblet, crying, “I drink!” She carried it to her lips and emptied it at a draught. i “I am free!” she exclaimed, in ac- cents of mournful triumph, hurling the cup at the rajah’s feet. “I die by you, as did my betrothed! Doorgal Sabib be accursed!” end, if you per- CHAPTER XXXIV. A few seconds passed, Agnes’ hear. seemed to cease to beat, and a mortal chill seemed to permeate the blood as it flowed through her veins. Doorgal fastened upon her a strange look, while his smile was at once ironi- cal and cruel. “Ah!” stammered Agnes, “you make me fear! In heaven’s name, let me dic in peace! Do not thus look at me!” “Die!” mockingly repeated the rajah, “Do you really believe that you are about to die?” “Am I delirious?” she asked herselt, aloud. “I hear you, but I do not un- derstand,” she continued, addressing Doorgal. “What do you say?” “I wish to say that you have thought to escape me,” replied the rajah; but that you have decelved yourself. I wish to say that you have plungea, head downward, into the net which I had spread for you.” “A net!” cried Agnes, “It was skillfully prepared,” contin- ued Doorgal. “You have not drank death, Agnes Burtell, but defeat. With- in a few minutes your brain will be still active, your body dead. You shall be mine. Do you now understand? Do you still think, in your pride, to brave me?” Slowly the rajah uttered these words, his arms. crossed on ‘his, breast and the same horrible smile upon his lips. As the terrible reality gradually dawned upon the unhappy girl, she ut- tered a cry of anguish and despair—a cry so piercing that it reached the ut- termost limits of the palace and struck on listening ears. She strove to fly, but her limbs re- fused to obey her. She looked about for some merciful weapon, but none was at hand, and each moment the drug rendered her more helpless. She lay pale as death upon the divan on which she had sunk, uttering no sound, making no motion. At a few feet distant Doorgal watched her. “You are mine, Agnes Burtell!” ex- cried; “and neither the gods nor man can now tear you from me!” “You lie, Doorgal Sahib!’ answered a ringing voice, and the curtain behind which Myndha had concealed herself was abruptly lifted, and revealed George Malcolm, a hunting knife in his left hand, a revolver in his right, (To be Continued.) bil Fe More Farm-Grown Cattle. Many thoughtful men throughout the middle west are much concerned about the condition of the cattle industry,{ Holds Up Pe-ru-na as the Ideal Remedy for — says Homestead. Looking over a num- ber of the states which are largely the} country’s reliance for beef supplies, no one can fail to be struck by the scarcity of good cattle. There are cattle, of course, but to a large extent they have been hrought from a distance, instead of being grown on the spot, as should be the case in the cattle-feeding coun- try where land is so high that best cattle are profitable. The western ranger can go to Texas and buy a bunch of cattle to feed grasses, and if he doesn’t pay too much for the cattle is pretty sure to make some money, for his feed costs him nothing? and attention and management cost but little. It is not so, however, th the man who feeds cattle on the farm. Every bushel of grain they cat rep- resents money; every mouthful of grass they con8ume comes off high- priced land; every forkful of hay they are fed means actual outiay in cash or labor. Under such circum- stances it is only the best that can make money. Poor cattle, that is, poorly bred and poorly gcown catile, are unable to return a profit for feed- ing on the farm. There is coming tc be a gradual realization ofthe fact that only good cattle are suitable for farm feeding, but to secure the best results the farmer who feeds must go a step further and cease to rely on range-bred cattle for his breeding stock. Cattle to be fed on the farm should be calved and grown on the farm, and be raised under farm conditions, and should be pushed from birth, as it is impossible to push range-bred animals. We hope to see at no distant future this lesson learned, and we hope, also, for the re- turn of the time when the beef-grow- ing states of the middle west will practically furnish their own supplies of well-bred cattle, bred on the farm under a realizing sense of how neces- sary good breeding is to profit, and raised from calfhood by good liberal feeding and careful farm management that make the suitable feeders under farm conditions where every blade of grass and every seed consumed costs money, Feeding Cattle for Pat Shows. Mr. Rider Haggard, in his interesting article in Longman’s Magazine on “A Farmer's Year,” passes the following opinion on fat shows and feeding: “Today 1 went to Norwich to see the agricultural show. I cannot pretend that an agricultural show held under a roof is a particularly pleasant place to linger in; there are too many smells and too much noise, The Red Polled classes were strong, the fat steers be- ing, some of them, magnificeat animals. As was to be expected, the executors of the lamented Mr. Colman took a large proportion of the prizes. Out of heir great herds they are able to pick and choose; moreoyer, in such estab- lishments the rearing of cattle for show is almost a business. From birth till they appear upon the bench, every delicacy which they can be persuaded to eat is crammed down the throat: of these pampered animals, together with liberal draughts of new milk. Hood tells me that when he was in the service of a gentleman in the Shires they reared a Shorthorn steer that took the first prizes at some of the Jargest shows in England. In ad- dition to all his other nutriment, this creature was accustomed to have a bucket of new milk given to him every day, with admirable results on his con- dition, Such treatment means a large expenditure, with a very problematical return in the way of advertisement; indeed, as I think I have said else- where, I doubt whether it pays the small man to compete at these great shows, however good may be his stock. The Color of Egg-Yolks. Pale-yolked eggs are neither so in- viting in appearance nor so nutritious in quaiity cs rich red-colored ones, says an English exchange. The princi- pal deficiency is in iron and phos- phorus, two elements of primary im- portance in the ailment of human be- ings. Fowls obtain a very large per- centage of these substances from the vegetablé kingdom, and if the supply of green food is withdrawn the yolks very soon assume a pale color. The deficiency can be supplied to a great extent by putting some sulphate of iron or syrup of phosphates in the drinking water, but this is not a natu- ral method, and it is much better to supply green food in plenty. Now is the time to buy blooded! c stock for use as breeders, in the spring. It is always better to have one’s own eggs than have to depend on eggs brought from a distance, ne matter whether the eggs are to be hatched out under a hen or in an in- cubator. Eggs in transit are exposed to too many accidents. We have known a shipment to be delayed for days #nd come into the hands of the buyer in a half rotten -condition. The men that are going into raising pure bred poultry for the first time sometimes hesitate as to whether to wait till spring and buy the eggs for sitting or buy the fowls and have them lay the eggs they want. The latter is by all means the more sensible course. A rooster and two hens’ will make a geod breeding pen. The hens will lay enough eggs before spring to pay for themselves and the eggs will be had fresh for hatching. There will then be no doubt as to their fertility and purity of breed. Protection for Carrier Pigeons.—An odd contrivance is used in China tc protect the carrier pigeons from the Palate SASS oe roan eR attacks of birds of prey. Tiny bamboc tubes are fastened under their wings, and as they fly the air, passing swiftly through the tubes, makes a shrill whistle, which serves to frighten off: tne other birds. | A MAGNIFICENT WOMAN Female Catarrh. 4 Mrs. Clara Makemer. Mrs. Clara Makemer, housekeeper for the Florence Crittenden Anchorage Mission, of Chicago, writes the follow- ‘ing letter from 302 Chestnut street, , Chicago: “Peruna is the best tonic I have ever known for general debility, a sure cure for liver complaint, and a never failing adjuster in cases of dyspepsia. “I have used it in cases of female irregularities and weak nerves com- mon to the sex, and have found it most satisfactory.” From early girlhood to the end of the child-bearing period few women are entirely free from some degree of catarrh of the pelvic organs. With Peruna the thousand and one ailments dependent upon catarrh of the pelvic organs can be wholly averted. “Health and Beauty” sent free to women only, by The Peruna Medicine Co., Columbus, Ohio. He Objected. “I'm goin’ fast, Amos,” said eld Mis’ Walker. Amos htld his gray head in his hands, but said nothing. She had al- ways been the spokesman, and experi- ence had taught him that silence was the best course. _ “You'll be marryin’ again when I’m gone, Anis,” continued the wife of his bosom. Still there was no wo ‘Tsay you will marr; ed Mis’ Walker, “IT don’t guess prospectively-bere “Ob; ¥. with a nonious conv which there syas no appeal. In a tene of demurring, he pleaded, rom Amos, nder. ected the and. nded she, on, from 't exactly feel like it just now, ,Sarah.”"—Waverly M me. Active Agents Wanted Jn every county seat for our Gas Lamp. Makes its own gas. Better light than elec- | tricity or Welsbach city gas. Cheaper than | keroseno. Retails $5. Big money maker. Standard Lamp Co., “Dept. A,” Chicago. A Tenacious Tenant. “It was very careless!” exclaimed the Par n property-owner. hat’s the matter?” “The agent has rented my property to a man named ‘Geurin,’” “What of it?” “T don’t like the name. It sounds mighty unpromising in case we should feel called upon to undertake an cvie- tion.”—Washington Star. You Know the Sort. “I don’t like Spitiins,” d Bellefield to Bloomfield. “I don’t like that sort of a chap.” “What kind of a chap is Spiffins?" “The kind that predicts an event af- ter it has occurred.”—Pittsburg Chron- icle-Telegraph. Careful Bilkins. “Bilkins got married rather sudden- ly, didn’t he?” “Yes. Somebody gave him a pass to New York, good for two, and he didn’t want to waste it.’—Cleveland Plain Dealer. TO CURE A COLD IN ONE DAY, Take Laxative Bromo Quinine Tablets. All druggists refund the money if it fails to cure. %e. E, W. Grove’s signature on each box. No Assurance. She could not forbear asking him, after the refusal, if he were of the be- lief that he would never love again. “I dunno,” he said, sadly. “It is am 2ven chance that I will have another attack next spring.”’-—Indianapolis Journal. In the Swim. Eow is it that Penswipe isn’t pub- lishing any more novels “Why, you see, he’s writing all his stories now for dramatization pur- goses.”—Philadelphia North-American. ‘ured After Repeated Failures With Others ) “Twill inform addicted to Morphine, Laudanum, { Optum, Cocaine, of never-failing, harmless, home- | ewe. Mrs. M. H. Baldwin, Box Chicago, 1. Hit Below the Belt. “You and Young Chubbleigh don’t ' speak to each other any more, Ethel. What is the matter?” “Nothing; only he told me one day, when we were at the park that I had a swan-like neck, and I told him he had a swan-like walk.”—Chicago Tribune. Piso’s Cure for Consumption has been a family medicine with us since 1865.—J. R. i Madison, 2409 42d Ave., Chicago, Lil. Study in Currents. -'There is always something frigid to ‘me about the atmosphere of a bank,” said Dee Vre. “Well, that is probably because they always deal in cold cash there,” ob- served Handy.—Philadelphia North | American. | History continues to repeat ‘tself in | spite of the fact that two-thirds of his- tory isn’t worth repeating. California produces about ono-thira | of the almonds consumed in the United: : States. = 5 a * on « | 4 — | | 4 ~ \ | } | ' —— | ‘ Sl be e ie