Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, June 9, 1900, Page 6

ae ofonlochore 7 ee e@eoo0 0 Or Under a Spell. - oeoe¢ ¢@ CHAPTER XXV—(Continned.‘ He had left too soon, too soon. ‘here might have been some trace of Sybil discovered. if be had waited longer. His father would take no in- terest in ihe s . how that he haa gone. Indeed, had he not said t the matter must be dropped entirely? Be bad hurried away, at a moment's bidding, like a thoughtless, unreason- ing child and left his love, his darling, lying in a nameless, bloody grave, UD- noticed, unavenged! On. he had been mad k as well as mad—to let his father’s stern preju- of caste influence him at such a time! 1, his beautiful, gentle, sor- rewful Sybil—ah it had been surely a prophetic shadow that had warned her from his side, a presentiment of evil that made her shrink from visiting his home—that home within whose tatal Borders she had found a cruel death! Everything spoke of her to his tor- tured memory. The pale moonlight seemed to typify her delicate beauty; the foaming waves recalled the first might of their meeting, when they had ‘steod together on the steamer’s deck that was carrying her forward to her decom. How strange had been her smile when spe spoke of the stern ate guiding our life barques! How signif- fcant her words seemed now! Truly, the spell that had led him to her side had been a fatal one—truly. tove had been her doom! He lit lis cigar and began to pace ‘the deck restlessly. It was deserted now. save ‘bry an officer ever and anon raoving silently across it on his round of duty, and then as swiftly disap- pearing again. The ladi abin was just bereath him, and as he reached the stern of the vessel, a strain of soft music, floating through one of the open windows chained him to the spot. So low and sweet was the strain, that it seemec as if the hidden singer were ‘breathing it to herself alone: “Ti bind thee with a ‘charm, my love, FU seal thee with a spell, hat thou shalt love me more than all— Shalt love me more than well! For all my dower is magic power— A power I dare not tell.” Herbert Clive listened as if he would still his own heart-beats to hear. That gong-—Syhbil’s song—and, oh, heaven! surely, it was Sybil’s voice, weak and low. as if it struggled from unspeak- able distance, yet still Sybil’s voice! “hat spell shall bind thee fast, my love. But life shall pass in tender dreams, And thou shalt ne’er awake; Drezwed only for my sake, En ove brief hour wield a power That Death aloné can break.” ‘The strain died away again into si- and Herbert Clive lifted his mh white with a strange, solemn awe. I It was Sybil who sang—Sybil! This was no dream, unl s he were going mad. It was Sybil’s voice, Sybil's song—the song that was indelibly writ- ten on his heart—the song that had at ‘Grst charmed him. Whe mystery that had shadowed her ‘Hfe and darkened her death was around her still. What power had she ‘to eross the portals of the spirit land rthat was denied all others? Had she, indeed, been a being of different mould from the mortals around her? Had he Yoved no mor woman, but a visitant from another sphere? And as if in confirmation of the wild idea. her last words drifted back to ‘aim: “Think of me as speaking from an- -other world when I to you that I anigh¢, but for the gulf that divides us, ‘rave found earth’s sweetest happiness at your side.” Yo Herbert's morbid, excited fancy no thought seemed ts0 strange and im- probabie. The common-sense philoso- phy of everyday life had no voice in the tarmoil of his ‘heated, tortured anind. A beartiful Danish tale he had read 4m boyhood rccurred to him, of a mer- ‘maiden who left her ocean home, and Yived a life of pain and sorrow, to win mortals’ love and mortals’ hope. Had there not always been some- «hing strange and unreal about Sybil, some subtle fascination that either drew or repelled all with whom she came in contact? And how unnatural had been her sadness, her silence, mer strange, morbid reserve! Herbert paced the deck hour after ‘hour, and yet no solution of the prob. ‘tem was reached. It was Sybil's voice and Sybil’s song that had reached his -ears—he could tell no more. But the morning light gives a differ- ent shape to our midnight fancies. A few hours of sleep, brought on by utter weariness, refreshed Herbert in spite of himself. and, after his matutinal eup of coffee, he was prepared to look upon his nocturnal experience by the «sober light of day. Her Heart’s By JEAN WARNER. : PPRPRAARAA AAAS could, but that was very unsatisfact- ory. Col. Laponte and his daughter had taken passage about ten days before the Ocean Queen sailed. The young Jady was an invalid, and her father had | been very anxious that she should have the m comfortable accommo- dations the ship could afford. <A fine- looking man, the colonel! Looked as if he might have seen foreign service, but not able to stand the sea, Sick as a dog—not able to lift his head from his pillow. Luckily, they had a smart lit- tle Frenchwoman along, who can take re of both father and daughter. “There she comes now,” added the captain, laughing, as Madam Gillette tripped up‘on deck. “No one but a Frenchwoman could look so trim and taut after a three-days’ voyage. She comes up every morning just at this time, to take the air. She has a holy horror of the sun. Good-morning, madam!” “Ah, good-morning, Monsieur le Cap- tain. I wish you a verra good morn- ing!” answered the madam, with much effusion. “I come up, as you see ,te get my leetle breaf of air. It ees so close so werm, down below.” “How are your patients?” asked the courteous sailor. “Getting a little bet- ter, I hope? “I don’t know, Monsieur le Captain. It is what I cannot tell. Monsieur La- ponte seems bad—verra bad; but then, it is not with men as with us poor wo- men. For verra little sickness they make vat vou eall one grand blow!’ The captain’s rich langh was delight- ful to hear: the little Frenchwoman’s quaint sociab lity seemed to have taken | his fancy immensely. | “Very true, madam—very true, in- deed! pnilemen are trying patients And your young lady, does she suffer much from seasickress? You ought to coax her up on deck, madam. Fresh air and the bright sunlight are the only remedies that work a speedy cure. But it is the last thing you can persuade a lady to do. ‘They shrink from the very } sight of the tervible sea.” “It is so with mademoiselle,” replied | the madam, shaking her glossy curls, despondently. “I beg, I pray, I entreat her to come up on de deck; but no, she will not. She is too weak, she say —too weak. Ah, poor chile! she is verra, verra weak but de light and air would make her strong.” | The captain made some pleasant re- | joinder, and Herbert turned away. A ray of interest had, for a brief while, brightened the dark turmoil of his mind: but it faded away as quick ly_as it had come. He hed never heard of, never met, this Cel. Leponte and his daughter. The writing had struck him, for the moment as being familiar, but it must have been only fancy. Some rich for- eigner traveling, probably, with only | an invalid daughter to sustain the hon- ors of his name. So the ripple of curiosity that had changed, for a brief moment, the cur- rent of the young man’s thoughts, died aw and all was still with the hope- | less languor of despair again. The days draggel on wearily; there was a great deal of rough weather for | that season, so the old tars said. Sudden storms would sweep down from the southward, and swell the slumbering billows into wrathful tur- moil: sunlit skies would be swiftly darkened by threatening clouds, moon- lit nights made black and hideous by appalling tempests. The old sailors began to mutter su- perstitions and forebodings. Some bad luck followed the ship, for there was surely never such a summer voyage be- fore. . Herbert, who passed all his time on deck, listened with a sort of gloomy pleasure as the whispers of evil. por- tent went round. They seemed to accord with his ows. despondent moot. ‘They sent no thrill of terror to his deadened heart. i Of what value was a life like his? Far better to lose it as swiftly and painlessly as possible than to keep it, barren and hopeless, without joy or love! It was on one of the lowering nights we have mentioned thet a knot of sail- ors were gathered around the capstan, discussing the signs of foul weather. Herb was smoking near, and, with- out feeling any especial interest, list- ened idly to the drift of the conversa- tion. It was a heavy, sultry night, and the sky was dark with the omens of a gathering tempest; but.a pale moon still struggled with the clouds that swept in broken masses over the face of heaven, while the forked tongues of. flame leaping up, ever and anon, from the horizon made an angry contrast to her pallid light. “I tuk a v’yage like this before once,” said a grizzled old tar, whose utter- ance was somewhat impeded by the huge “quid” he had rolled entirely under his tongue. “I don’t mean to say that I haven't seen harder blows and rougher weather many a time, but a downright onnatural, Jonah-cussed Mis first step (as little knowledge | yyage like this I never tuk before but could be gleaned from his fellow pas- seugers otherwise) was to look over the passenger register and see what Yadies’ names were entered as his cor- manions on the voyage. None in the long list were familiar to him: but two singularly attracted his attention, perhaps from the hand-writ-. ‘ing, which, bold and irregular as it vwas, he had a vague idea he had seen somewhere before. a ‘ Scrawled upon the top of the page, in ‘@ man’s careless hand, were the names -@f Miss Marie Laponte and her attend- vant, Madame Gillette. CHAPTER XXVI. A Sailor's Yarn. Herbert lost no time in inquiring once.” “And how did the v'yage end, Bill?” “Wall.” answered Bill, slowly turn- ing his quid, “it ended you might say, bad enough, for the ship—Which her name wasl the Sea Witch. The ship an’ more than half of ’em aboard her, went down to Davy Jones’ locker. And it was a dead woman as dun it all.” “How was that? Spin us the yarn, out ard and out. Bill?” asked two or three eager voices. “Wall. ‘tain’t so much of a yarn,” answered Bill, giving another reflect- ive turn to his quid; “for it’s every word true to natur’ as gospel. It wes, jez I calculate. more’n twenty years | 880. and I shipped as second’ mate ! more about the name that had attract- ed his attention. >: The captain— burly, good-natured @silor—gave him all the information he ter. lashing agin,the wind and waves, ain't nuther right nor nat'ral, ’cording | enough to make the | by the din overhead, and, hastily put- to my notion. The Sea Witch war as tight a little craft as I ever Sot foot on, and the captain war a gentleman to the marrer of his bones. We had about half a dozen cabin passengers abourd, and one of these—a tall, pale sort of sorrowful-looking young gentleman—- tuk my faney at once. He had a soft, kind way of speaking, and he didn’t seem to set himself above an honesv Jack Tar, like he war made of differ- ent clay. I had many a talk with him, for he used to stay on deck, ez if he didn’t like to be alone, ’specially after dark. He was very Varned and clever, ond he told me many queer things that I'd never heern before. But”—Bill's voice sank to a mysterious whisne: “he never told me he was a Jonah, “A Jonah?’ echoed the listeners, in tones of awe. “We had ‘bout the cussedest weath- er that v’yage I'd ever seen,” contin- ued Bill, as if he disdained interrup- tion. ‘“Pwan’t as much foul weather as cussed weather. The wind kep* a-shiftin’ roun’ as if it didn’t know cl’arly which way to blow. and the gales would bust on ez if they had a spite agin’ the canvas; while the way the thunder would crash, and the light- nin’ Gance roun’. them, mastheads. was toughest hide creep. And the mermaids, or,” Bill | ac ded, solemnly, “something else, kept a-singiny, at the stern of the ship—a- singing death-songs every night.” “Have you never heard nothing here?” asked one of the men, in a hushed voice. “It's no matter what we've heard here.” answered Bill, significantly. “Tm talking now “bout what war heard there. Ennyhow the singing wa’nt meant for nothing—for the Sea Witch struck on a rock one night, when the sky was so dark we couldn't see how near we war to shore, and the best half of the men aboard went to the bottom with her. Folks never can tell cl’arly what or how things happen at sech times. It's jes’ ez if so many lives were thrown out of a bag, and everybody grabs for his own. I only know that I caught hold, somehow, to a broken spar, an was a-hanging to it for life and death. when I seed the white face of Mr. Riggs—which Riggs Was the name of the tell, pale gentle- man that I had sort o’ tuk to. I saw his white face o-shining out of the wa- ter beside me, and I grabbed him and held him fast.’ He was a-hanging, thovgh I didn’t know it when touched him, to a long, narrow box, and when I dragged him from it, it was orful to hear. That air box, shipmates, was a coffin, and that air coffin held his dead young wife, ez he had run away from home with a year before. “He told me all afterward, while he war lying in the hospital, whar they tuk him when he was dragged ashore. T wa'nt much the wuss or my wetting, but that and sorrow together were his death. He told me, when he was a-lay- ing there dying, that he married her ag’in her father’s will and under her father’s cuss, and that cuss had fol- lowed him and stnck to him to the last. She had cried out, when she was a-dy- ing, that she couldn't rest without her father's pardon, and that he must take her home and let her father say he’d forgive her poor clay. And it was for this that the v'yage was cussed—it was for this the Sea Witch went to the bottom: because no craft could carry that air dead woman, that was under- neath a father’s cuss. Her sperrit was a-wandering round that air ship, for Mr. Riggs told me, with his dying breath, his wife followed him by night and day. The moon glided aut from a mass Of | cloud as the story ended, and Herbert | Clive turned to throw his burned cigar end into the troubled waves. As he did so the flutter of a woman's dress at the companion-way atracted his atten- tion. Hie glanced toward the spot, and saw ve, he could have sworn it—as plain- ly as he had ever seen in life, the pale, beautiful countenance, the floating golden hair, of Sybil Wraye! The white-hocded cloak he had so | often seen her wear was thrown back arcvnd her shoulders. Their eyes met, and then—then, ere he could spring fe ward to her side, she had melted from his sight. The moon had passed: be- | neath a rugged storm-cloud, and all | was darkness again. CHAPTER XXVII. The Storm. That night a terrible storm burst over the devoted vessel. Herbert was awakened from his troubled slumbers ting on his cothes, rushed above to dis- cover the cause of the tumult. Beneath a sky of inky darkness lit ever and anon by the lurid gleam of lightning. the Ocean Queen was strus- ging onward against the mountainous billows that reared their angry foam- crests in her path. The canvas already hung in tatters from the bending masts; the engines groaned and creak- ed as they labored onward, while the hoarse tones of the captain’s speaking- trumpet, echoed by the shouts of the sailors, mingled discordantly’ with the roar of the angry waves. There had been night alarms before during the voyage, but never one like this, Captain, officers and sajlors seemed thoroughly aroused by a sense of immediate danger, and worked with the fierce energy of men who were working for their lives. “Will you lend a hand at the pumps?” said the second mate, in a cautious tone, as Herbert reached his side. “Tne ‘men are pretty well worn out, and we can’t spare any more hands there just now. We don’t want a panic in the steerage if we can help it; but the ves- sel’s sprung a leak, and we're off one of the worst coasts in Christendom.” “Ts there danger?” asked Herbert, briefly. “She's filling like a leaky tub,” was the significant reply, ‘and the fires are pretty near out. We can’t make head- way against a gale like this much long- er. But there’s seven hundred souls aboard, sir, and we'll just have to do the best we can.”’ There was no'time for further con- yersation, A hoarse call from the eap- tain summoned the mate to his side. and Herbert took hold of the pumps manfully. The sailérs were working on in dog- ged, gloomy silence. ““Tain't no use, sir,” muttered one in our hero's ear. “Orders is to keep qui- aboard the Sea Witch. There wa‘nt| et and give no alarm; but we can’t no steamships in them days, and to tell| make no headway ’gainst a leak like the truth, I don’t think folks was any | this. The water's a-rushin’ in like a the wuss for it. This ’ere b’iling wa-| cataract. Better take to the boats, 1 say, while there’s time.” “Aye aye! Better take to the boats, while we've got boats!” responded a sullen chorus. “Avast, there, you cussed cowards!” growled our old friend, Bill. “Do you forzet the women and children we've got aboard?” “Aye, aye!” muttered the other; “but the women and children can take their chances with Davy Jones as well as we can. There—good heavens! what was that?” For. with a sudden jar, that made every boat and timber in her thrill, the Ocean Queen seemed to sink in the trovgh of the sea. . “It's the engine that has stopped, yeu fools!” growled old Bill, laying his brawny hand on the shoulder of a man who would have fled from his post. “We ain’t none the worse for the loss of ’em. If it warn’t for all the pipes and D'ilers we have in our hold wé wouldn't be in this fix now. Never did believe in this ’ere tea-kettle sailing. Give me a stout, live-oak bottom, and I wouldn't think twice of a gale like this. These iron-pot ships is all agin natur’. Cheer up, my arties. Don't of wind like came the hearse co and from e quarter-deck, as loud shrieks from the steerage passen- gers told that the alarm had reached there at last. “Man the boats! Stand back, ye cowards!” continued the cap- tain. in stentorian tones, as the firemen rushed up fiercely for the first chance of life. “Women and children _ first! I'll blow out the brains of the man that steps beyond the line!” “Good heavens! is all hopa gone?” exclaimed Herbert to the old sailor be- side him. : “Capt. Knok ain't one to give up easy.” was the meaning reply. “The ship's a-settling fast, sir. We ain’t got much chance.” Then ensued a scene of confusion terrible to witness—terrible to remem- ber. Wild shrieks and cries blended with the voices of the tempest, as the terri- fied p: engers thronged up on the deck. falling over and crushing each other in their mad rush for safety. In vain the brave and self-devoted officers siood manfully at their posts, striving to keep order—in vain the bet- ter portion of the sailors exerted them. selves to save the helpless and weak. The panic-stricken crowd surged to and fro, crushed by falling spars er washed } off by the billows that swept up on the deck of the lifeless, helpless steamer, now a mere hulk at the mercy of the winds and waves. For a moment it seemed as if the tenderest tics of nature were forgotten, and only the animal instinct of self- preservation reigned supreme. In the first madness of terror, brothers de- serted their sisters, busbands their wives. Only the mothers, true at this supreme hour to their holiest instinct. | gathered their frightened little ones to their breasts, and struggled for them and with them for life. The darkness intense. The red glare of the ship’s lanterns, held by the officers, only flung a fitful lurid gleam upon the maddened crowd, who were pressing forward, blindly and desp: ately to the bulwarks, where the cap- tain stood, firm and immoyable as a rock, his drawn revolver in his hand and Herbert Clive at his side. The first boat was filled and lowered. and went down under the very eyes of those left behind, the despairing cries of the drowning mingling with the ago- nizing wails of those still on deck. The second boat was more success- ful. It breasted the billows for a mo- | ment. and then was lost to sight in the | darkness: but it awoke a faint hope in | the breasts of those who had yet to | make the desperate attempt. They | might even yet be saved! | A third fourth, a fifth, each with its wailing trembling, terrified freizh, were sent off in the midnight darkness, | and then the fierce instincts of the | rougher men, who had hitherto been ; controlled by their officers, burst all re straint. Life was too dear for them to sacri- fice it to. chivalrous chimeras! Rushing forward, they took posses- | sion of the remaining boats, regardless of the captain, who, pistol in hand, fought like a lion for the defenseless ones left in his charge. But all in vain. . The revolver was wrested from his hand by a brawny fireman, and he was flung aside while, with curses and yells of triumph, the remaining boats were seized by the desperate men, whom neither menaces nor violence could any longer centrol. last boats, filled with struggling, ng madmen, pushed off into the ming waves, and the Ocean Queen, with four hundred souls still on board, was left to her fate. Herbert had done a man’s work man, fully during these terrible hours. He had lost sight of self entirely in his ef- forts to save the helpless and the weak, He had: stood by the captain’s side until hope was gone; but now. that the time for action had p: and he stood face to face with a dark and terrible death—life that he had thought so worthless, grew suddenly precious to him. He thought of his home and Clive Towers seemed to rise before him, grand and stately, bathed in the glad sunshine of early spring. Fannie’s sweet face looked out at him from her vine-wreathed windows; his father’s smile, grave, yet tender, beamed upon him from the open door; Laurence Grey’s faithful band was upon his shoulder. Fenton's merry greeting” echoed in his ear. He was home again, Ah, tossed upon angry waves, in mid- night darkness, how bright, and glad, and beautiful seemed that distant home! Shadowed though it might be by clouds of sadness—seen through raists of unshed tears—it was home, still hajne. He strove to think of higher, holier things, to lift up his soul to Him who rules both the light and the darkness. He strove to pray, but a thousand aad rng fancies. flitted through his mind. . The shricks, the prayers and suppli- cations of his fellow sufferers.awoke no echo jn his breast; he was like one in a trance, a dream. * The great billows swept over the deck, and the Ocean Queen shivered and groaned in the death-throes, Help- less forms. lashed to broken’ spars, drifted by him in the darkness; moans and supplications rose piteously on ev- ery side, as the cruel waves dashed, re- lentlessly, again and again over the pit- iful remnant of humanity still clinging to the uppér deck. : And still Herbert dreamed of Sybil— Sybil, who had gone already through the dark gate now opening before him Sybil, who had returned to warn him of his coming doom. Old Biil's story recurred to him. Had she, too, followed him, lurirg him on to death? Had she, indeed, bound him |_ by some potent spell that “death alone could break?” * Would she meet him-.on the thresh- old of the unknown world, on which he even now Was treading? Sybil, Sybil, his only love!” There was a jar, a mighty shock. Herbert was flung rudely forward. A huge spar floated before him, which he caught with the hold of the dying. Lashed to it already was a woman's form—a woman whose long, floating hair brushed his face. And as all were swept downward into the waste of wa- ters, a flash of vivid lightning illum- ined the scene, and showed Herbert the white features of the weman with whom he was meeting death. They were the pale, rigid features of Sybil Wraye! (TO be Continued, PROPER REMEDY FOR A FAINT. The Timely Suggestion Made by the Husband of a Woman Who Had Swooned. “What do you think we would bet- ter do now?” asked the pudgy man. It was what the wide-chested man said that made the incident worth tell- ing. They had gone to a ball at the West Side armory. They had brought their wives. A great crowd was pres- ent. They sat in-the gallery and watched the dancers. Neither had gone out often with his wife. They were prosperous enough in business, but a little shy on social amenities. If an insult was to be resented, both or either of them would know just what to do at any spot in the road. When one of the women fainted from sufto cation caused by the over-heated at- mosphere of the recom, both of them looked as if they didn’t know what on earth to do under such complicated circumstances, and he turned help- lessIy to his wide-chested friend. “What do you think we would bet- ter do now?’ he asked, plaintively. A dozen other women had gathered around the swooning woman and were faning her,and pouring water on her forehead. The wide-chested man knitted his brows in thought, and then said: “Let’s' go and get a drink.”—Chica- go Inter Ocean. Meard in a Balloon. J. M. Bacon, the Englishman who, with his daughter, made a lofty blloon ascent to observe the meteor shower Iast November, tells some interesting things about the sounds t reached their ears. At a height of 5,000 feet the ringing of horses’ feet on a hard read could be heard. At 4,000 feet the splashing sound made by ducks in a pond was audible. The barking ef dogs and the crowing of cocks could be heard at 7,000 or 8,000 feet. Tlese sounds penetrated through a white floor of cloud which hid the earth from sight. In the perfect si- lence of the air around the balloon they were startled by what seemed stealthy footsteps close at hand. Investigation showed that the sound was caused by the stretching of the ropes and the yielding of the silk as the balloon continued to expand.— Youth’s Companion, Z Effects of a Late Supper. At Stroud, in Gloucesshire, a certain well-known townsman had one night been out to a rather prolonged supper with some of his friends, and on his way home had the misfortune to fall into a pond which he had to pass, and which at that time of the year contain- ed more mud than water. Several people who saw him fall in rushed to his rescue, and a rope was procured and throvn to him; but he refused the aid offered and commenced swiuiming to the shore in the most scienti manner, shouting to those on the bank, “Never mind me; never mind me—I can swim. Save the women anr children!”"—The Weekly Telegraph. Mated. “The other day,’ said Jones, “an old woman bounced into our office, dis- playing a notice that we had written to her. to the effect that a quarter tax on some property of hers was due. Sue swere she had paid it. I had the books to prove that she had not, and sugges‘- ed that.sh> had made a mistake, “She declared that she had not, and said, ‘Don't you ever make mistakes?’ “IT assured her that I did not, and jokingly added: “The only mistake I ever made was when I was married.’ “She looked at me a second and then said: ‘No, your wife made that mis- take.” "—Detroit Free Press. . He Understood the Business, First Beggar—Why didn’t you tackle that lady? She might have given you son.ething. Second Beggar—I let her go because I understand my business better than you do, I never ask a woman for any- thing when she is alone; two women are together you can get money from both, because each one is afraid the othet will think her stingy if she refuses.—Collier’s Weekly. A Foreign Tongue. “As I understand it.” said the talk- ative one, “the Africanders trekked from the yoorlooper to the kopje, and dorped it from the spruit to the dis- selboom. It stands to reason, too, for—"” “I don’t understand golf,” the other cut in, wearily.—Harper’s Bazar. Well Guarded. “Jonas Junius employs two lawyers constantly.” “Why two?” “He gets business advice from one, and then he consults the other about how much he ought to pay of the first one’s Dill.’—Chicago Record. He Explains. . She—Why didn’t you answer my letter? He--I_never received it. She—You didn’t? He—No; and besides, it was writ- ten in such a peculiar hand I couldn't make out more than half of it.—Cath- olic Standard and Times. ‘ Neighbors’ Children Only. Jinks—There’s one good thing about | spoiled children. Binks—What's that? Jinks—One never has them in one’s! ~ own house.—New York Weekly. pert but when’ . Doing His Best. Patient (in intense agony)—Oh, dos- tor, doctor, if I could only die! Doctor—Patience, my friend, pa- tience! Iam doing my very best? Electricity in Capsules Is made from cheap chemicals, and when added to a certain quantity of water will furnish -electricity enough to light a house or drive an automo- bile. But this is nothing compared to the strengthening power contained in a bottle of Hostetter’s Stomach Bitters. It cures indigesion, dyspepsia, bilious- ness, liver and kidney troubles. A Smart Dresser. “Theodore Tibbs wears gay shirts, doesn’t he?” “I should say. * Why. stop at awning stripes. Journal. Better Blood Better Health If you don’t feel well today you can be made to feel better by making your blood Detter. Hood’s Sarsaparilla is the great pure blood maker. That is how it cures that tired feeling, pimples, sores, salt rheum, scrofula and eatarrh. Get a bottle of this great medicine and begin taking it at once and’ see how quickly it will bring ‘your blood up to the Good Health point. Hood’s Sarsapariia ° . Is America’s Greatest Blood Medicine. he_ wouldn’t * —Indianapolis Mixed Emotions. To illustrate the feeling of Ireland to- ward the predominant partner, an actor who has been touring tells the story of an old watter in a Dublin get hotel. “When are you going to home rule in Ireland, John?" question. “See ye her old man, “the only way ell get home rule fer ould Ireland will be it Franee —an’ Russia—an’ Germ: tria—an’ Maybe Italy— all join together to give those black- gairds of English a rare good hiding. | That’s the only w: we'll get home rule, anyway.” Then, as he looked ) cautiously around, a twinkle of cun- 4 ning and a smile of courtesy were be! added to the expression. And the whole lot of ‘em shoved together couldn’t do it,” he said. “Oh—it's the grand navy we've got!”—London 3 Chronicle. * * T. M. Roberts’ Supply House, Min neapolis, Minn,. say; “We have made a great scoop on binding twine and one th: makes the twine trust, ou and count dealers very t selling twine % of_a cent less than th Minnesota States Prison sold i course, no time must be lo: twine to obtain these prices. It will not last long. Order at once before you for- get it. Do not be afraid of this twine, is new, bright and good. We b make this very low price found a manufacturer who wanted badly. Of course we couid market price and make more money, but that is not the way we do business. When we get a good thing we pass it along to our customers.” - Merely a Suggestion, A Somerville man went out hunting gray squirrels up in New Hampshire one day last fall. A native of the place accompanied him. After the Somerville man had fired his shotgun thirty or forty times the native stopped and looked at him. “Say,” he said, “gray squirrels ain’t your size. You ought to go out hunt- ing elephants.”—Somerville Journal. Are You Using Allen's Foot-Ease? It is the only cure for Swollen, Smarting, Burning, Sweating Feet, Corns and Bunions. Ask for Allen’s Foot-Ease, a powder to be shaken into the shoes. At all Druggists and Shoo Stores, 25¢. Sample sent FREE. Ad- dress Allen S. Olmsted, LeRoy, N. ¥- A Hopeless Way. Stranger—I noticed your advertise- ment in the paper this morning for a yuan to retail imported canaries. Proprictor of Bird Store—Yes, sir. «Are you looking for a job? Stranger—Oh, no; I merely had a curiosity to know how the canaries lost their tails.—Chiecago News. Weary Women Rest and kelp for weary women are found in Lydia £. Pinkham’s Vegetabie Compound. It makes wo- men strong and healthy to bear their burdens, and overcomes those ils to which women are subject because they are women. is known from coast to coast. It has cured more sick women than any other medicine. its friends are everywhere and they are constantly writing thankful letters which appear in this paper. if you are puzzied write ‘for Mrs. Pinkham’s ad- vice. Her address is Lynn, Mass. She will charge you nothing and she has restored a million women to health. N. W. N. U. —No.23.— 1900. UR E FOR ACL ELSE FAILS.