Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, June 1, 1901, Page 6

— Fe DR et a ~s SN IN THE WEB OF xv. A SPIDER. i CHAPTER XXV—(Continued.* Argry and outraged, she turned @way. But as the man’s impertinence e@gain recurred to her, it brought a new end startling thought. She paused and looked back. The two men together were entering the lodge. Pshaw! Tyrrell was drunk; his words held only a drunkard’s meaning! A new sense of emptiness and deso- lation stole over her, as she slowly as @ended the stairs and went into the house. The long hours of the day wore @way. Occasionally the sound of voices and laughter floated upward to her @wn room, where she sat, with closed rs. Not even Cora came to her. The ehild seemed changed—alike to love | aaa dread her. She had mailed her tter to Bertie, but he had neither @ome nor sent response. Oh, God! if hhe should be dead—if she should never @ee him more! All that had happened to her the | appre night appeared a dream. Love brought her only misery. It could but bring her misery to the end, unless —unless Bertie should return free to @laim her. Words of love from any ether lips were words, indeed, to her fmdeed, empty and meaningless. But hope was growing gray. It had @o little, so little to rest upon. Every y they had searched throughout @ rooms she had seen in her dreams te find some hidden place where the pers, of such moment to her, might found, and every day she had met fresh disappointment. Last night she had made one more ettempt and that had been vain like the west. She pushed back the hair from her heated brow, as these thoughts came ping through her brain. The soli- ae of her room appeared peopled with phantoms of the past. “I shall go mad—verily I shall go gad, unless relief comes soon,” she thought, and, rising, wearily, hastened from the room, as if to hasten away from herself. The Ubrary was deserted when she entered it and passed on into the little gmusic room. The twilight was slowly @alling, and the evening shades were about her. She stood before the desk where she mad stood the evening previous; but mow there was ne‘ther eagerness nor hope. She made no effort to discover any se-- gret hiding place. What need? All ef- fort had been made, and all proved futtle, indeed. Suddenly, beneath one of the brass knobs, she saw something moving. She feoked more closely. It was a small @pider weaving its web. She watched Bim with a smile upon her Ips. “So he weaves his web,” she thought. “Wil! you, too, spider, find your vic- fm?” As though in answer to her words, a r, Httle frozen fly, which thus far d escaped the winter’s frost, came fluttering near. It stumbled into the web. With the gwiftness of thought the wary, hungry ‘waiter and watcher had drawn the al- most invisible threads about the help- fess, fluttering wings and bound it fast. Closer and closer he drew, to gloat apon his coming feast, when Beatrice, hitherto fascinated by the strange com- parison she had drawn, broke the spell “One helpless thing, at least, shall find a friend,” she murmured aloud: and, shuddering as she did so, she g@napped the slender cords which yet bad bound like steel the frail wings, re- feased the little prisoner and brushed the spider to the floor, where she might erush it beneath her little foot. But though his prey was lost, his life ‘was spared. Already Beatrice had for- ten him, for, with the gesture that a4 hurled him to the floor, the brass fknob on which had been woven his Web, moved. She pressed it further. It flew back. ¢ blood surged madly to her brain. ith a low sob of intense and over- ywertng feeling she fell upon her een. At that instant Randolph Chester en- fered the room. CHAPTER XXVI. He paused, amazed and wondering. en the threshold. He had heard the ery, he had seen the gesture. He had q@aught, too, a momentary glimpse of the wonderful light trradiating her face. (What had happened What could have happened? “Beatrice!” he exclaimed, wanced quickly to her side. But she had been swift, too, to recog- mize that he, too, stood upon the brink ef her discovery, and, springing up, she feaned with her back against the desk, rr hands behind her, striving to find press back the secret drawer. and ad- At last she touched it. It closed with a slight click. “What was that?” he asked. “Stand aide, Beatrice; something Is wrong!” @ilently she obeyed him; but the desk would tell no tales now. There was no aperture in the solid wood, no crack or crevice which would fedicate {ts secret. Yet, instinctively, ghe felt distrust. “What were you doing here?” masked again. “You care to know?” she murmured. “Look, then!” and she pointed to the tiny fiy fluttering on the ledge of the @esk, some remnants of the web still inging to its frail, exhausted wings. was comparing myself to this poor. le insect,” she continued. “It was in e cruel spider's toils, like myself, and set {t free, wondering what hand would so do unto me.” “No hand can free you save my own!” fhe replied in a low voice, bending close to her ear. “If you tndeed insist upon @o odious a comparison, let us follow it; but you are in a web from which the jworld is powerless to rescue you, ex- t my will, which hinges upon Beatrice, my patience is not ex- Deastions. Take car he LILLIAN GILLIN. She only answered by a cold look of scorn. She dared not further trust her voice. His words were scarcely heard or heeded as she strove to realize all that her discovery might mean. She had seen only that the drawer held papers—papers which might prove worthless—which prove of value great: er to her than the wealth of all the gold mines in the world. She was not sufficient actress to wholly conceal the emotion the new- born hope inspired. A flush of the old days was on het cheek, a light of the past in her eyes, and the jealous eyes watching her saw and were troubled. “I've half a mind to turn the desk into firewood!" he said, moodily, as the sound he had heard when the drawe: closed again recurred to him, “I al- ways hated the ugly thing!” A startled look of sudden fear came into the beautiful face. But at that moment came a welcome interruption in a voice from the open doorway. “Don’t carry our your threat, Mr. Chester,” said Mr. Grant, advancing in- to the room. ‘That is one of the hand- somest antiques I have ever seen. If you are seriou: wishing to dispose of it, let me become its purchaser.” “Tf you are serious in admiring it, let me present it to you, rather.” “You would not give this desk away, Mr. Chester?” interrupted Beatrice, in quick alarm. “It was papa’s. If you do not like it here, let me have it for my room.” “On no account, dear Beatrice,” he answered. “Already you’ brood too much over the past, without surround- ing you with old objects to feed your morbid fancy. Indeed, I have about made up my mind to furnish Grey Oaks quite anew—not to leave a stick of tim- be’ of the old stuff in the house.” “But this desk—give me this? Mr. Grant will, I am sure, resign the gift to me?” “I would, with pleasure, Miss Mark- ham,” he replied; “but I am inclined to believe that Mr. Chester is right, and that old memortes are hurtful to you. Still, I leave the decision to him, and shall be wholly satisfled whichever way it turns.” “The desk, my dear Grant, is yours. Give me your address, and it shall be shipped early in the morning.” In the morning! There was yet the night to act—to think! Oh, what should she do? How gain possession of the papers? Whom could she trust? To rebel further against its being sent away might arouse suspicion, and sus- piccion now, at any cost, she must al- lay! How strangely—how heartlessly, too, this stranger acted? One would have supposed he would have generously re- fused the gift when he had learned that old associations had endeared it to her. Were all the world alike? Oh, Cod—the papers! If she had had but time to catch them from their hid- ing place—to conceal them within her bosom--she might have defied them all! Time! there must yet be time! Before the morning dawned they should be hers! “You must come and inspect my pur- chases,” said Mr. Grant. “We must dress the tree to-night. You will assist us. Miss Markham?” “Thanks—no!” she answered, coldly. My deep mourning precludes festiv “When they are busy will be my op- portunity,” she thought. “You do not like Miss Markham, Miss Lorrimer?” said Mr. Grant, abruptly, to his neighbor, as they »*s°mbled, a half- hour later, at the dinner table. She turned quickly toward him, with a flush of annoyance on her cheek. "Pardon me,” he cont'nued, “but Iam something of a mind-reeder, and I can not resist the temptation to try my power.” “She is insane. One does pot give personal liking or dislike to the mad.” “You really believe in her insanity? I have seen no evidence of it. By the way, Mr. Layton appears to be greatly interested in her. Is there any relation- ship existing between them?” “None!” she answered, coldly. should you imagine it?” But to herself she thought: “So, even strangers notice his infatu- ation. How shall I end it? How shall I break the spell which binds him?” Mr. Grant’s thoughts, too, were busy, but they would have read only that he had discovered to Beatrice another en- emy. “You will come with us, Beatrice?” ssked Cora, as they rose from the ta- ble. “«No, dear; I am going to my own room, Cora,” she added. ‘You once did me a favor. Will you do me another to-night? Why do you grow so_pale? Have they taught you to fear me?” “No: but don’t ask me to do any- thing, Beatrice! I would if I could, be- lievo me, but he watches me so—" “He watches you, and you fear him! Why, Cora? Oh, my der little friend, don’t let this cruel serpent fascinate you. He is so wicked, so cunning, and you susrect him so little! But you need not hes‘tete to erent me this fa- vor to-nizht, Cora! It is very simple! At 9 o'clock I shall be in the music room. I wish a few moments—only a few moments—alone there. But they are essential to all my future! Just at that hour make any pretext—keep him near you. Pomise me this—swear it. Cora! If he watches you, he watches me, doubly, trebly!' He makes his ser- vants spies of every action. Unless you help me in this, in some way he will prevent me. Oh, Cora, don’t re- fuse me!” “T will try, Beatrice—indeed, indeed, T will try!” she answered, and tmpuls- ively threw her arms about the neck of her friend, half in love, half in contri- tion, and wholly in resolve to make amends for her former betrayal. The music room was deserted when Beatrice, stealing softly toward it, as though ahe had come on the errand of “why | ‘ a thief, heard from the drawing room, across the hall, the sound of gay voices and merry laughter. “Why do you watch the clock so anx- iously, Miss Cora?” asked Mr. Chester, as he sat a moment beside his little guest and fixed his dark eyes on the face which so suddenly paled beneath their glance, “Has Beatrice made you co-conspirator again? Ah, I see I have guessed rightly! But you need not fear; her every action to-night will be immediately known to me. I have lately had a horrible dread that her in- sanity might take the form of suicide, and I dare not leave her an instant to herself.” “Suicide?” repeated Cora, her very lips blanching as she remembered Be- atrice’s prayer to be alone for a few moments—only a few moments—in the music room. The clock already was chiming 9. Perhaps it was too late to save her! “Oh, go to her at once—at once, Mr. Chester! She is in the music room! Go—go quickly, or you may be too late!” He rose with a quiet smile of tri- umph on his lips. “I have not left the music room wholly deserted to-night, my dear Miss Cora. I had reason to believe my dear Beatrice might ‘contemplate a visit there. Still, as you suggest, it would, perhaps, be better for me to be on the spot myself. The tree is progressing finely, is it not?” he added. “Pardon me for a few moments.” ‘And, bowing, with his old, courteous grace, he gravely and quietly left the room. But once in the hall,his expression changed, his step quickened. “Tyrrell had strict orders to report to me the moment she crossed that threshold,” he muttered to himself. “Why has he failed to do so?” CHAPTER XXVII. An hour earlier Tyrrell and the old man sat together before the open fire place in the comfortable living room of the lodge. As usual, a steaming jug was before them, from which one, at least, took copious draughts. “You've got a nice place here,” said the old man, after a little pause. “It's not many that’s got © master like you, and not many that deserve it. “You're a good fellow, and I'll not soon forget the kindness you've done an old man like me.” “You don’t owe me no thanks,” re- plied the other, in a half-surly, half- drunken tone. “I didn’t do it for the plaze ye, ye may be sure, bet bekaze I thought it’d plaze the young lady. Seems like I was mistaken, since she hasn’t taken no notice of me since. Be jabers, what a pair of eyes she has in her head!” “Is the young master sweet on her?” “He’s sweet on her money. He’s no more heart than a turnip or a cabbage.’ “But you lived in the old master's time?” “Hush! Don’t spake of him. It’s his eyes she’s got in her head; and every time she looks at me I think of the last time he looked at me, when she asked him to point out the thief! Gad! I wake up in the night, finding just those two eyes peering at me out from the darkness!” And he took another drink, as though to rid himself of the fancy. “But why need you care?” persisted the «questioner. “You’d nothing to do with the taking of the money.” “Taking of the money?” he repeated. “Who said anything about the taking of the money? Hush your old mouth, or I'll turn you out in the cold. Yes, and I could do it, too! I’m master here! Yes, as good a master as him up in the fine house. He’d not dare do anything as Tyrrell Gaid wasn’t to be dore!”” Under his shaggy eyebrows the old man’s eyes gleamed. “[T was thinking you had a good berth,” he said, quietly. “By the way, he sent you down some written orders for to-night, a while ago, didn’t he?” “Yes; but I haven't looked at them. I'd better look.” And he took from his pocket a paper he had crumpled as he hastily thrust it there. “Be jabers, I can’t see to read! It’s all swimming. I belave I’m drunk again!” “Let me try,” said the other. “Fm not much of a scholar, and my eye- sight’s bad, but maybe I can make it out for yo “Not much!” chuckled the lodge- keeper. “No knowing what that devil would write me. I'll take the first squint myself. But if he’s ordering me out of this warm hole, I’m not think- ing I'll be the man to obey.” ‘As he spoke, he spread out the paper before him. The old man rose and crossed the floor. Returning, he took a quick look at the page. “Conceal yourself, while we are at dinner in the library, and summon me at once if any one enters the music room. Do not let there be one instant’s delay.” “What are ye doing?” cried Tyrrell, endeavoring to sober himself. and screening, too late, the paper from the other’s view. “Trying to read your orders,” said the old man, boldly; ‘“‘but it won’t do. My eyesight’s not good enough for that dis- tance.” “Maybe it’s better than you let on,” continued Tyrrell, suspiciously. “I’ve been told yau were a suspicious char- acter, anyway. I wonder if you are? If I thought you had anything to do with that young chap as used to come here swatehearting Miss Beatrice, it'd be the worse for ye. I owe him a grudge, and a bigger one than the mas- ter; but she likes him, and maybe some day—tmaybe some day—"” “Well, some day what?” + “Oh, I was getting soft-hearted! I’m often soft-hearted when in my cups. What was I saying? Well—never mind! What I meant to say was this, that some day I'd take my revenge on him. But I must be going. I'm late now for *my orders—too late! I might as well stay here. Suppose you go for me, old man! It’s not much you've got to do. Just go up to the house, and— Pshaw! I'm. drunk! I'll go myself. Take care of the lodge until I return.” He rose and staggered from the room, but as he walked, with difficulty, an- other figure stole behind him in the shaduw. The lodge had been left to take care of itself. She was elone! The library wes SS | empty. There was not a minute to be lost. Poor Beatrice! Poor child! The little strength she had so carefully hoarded seemed in this awful moment to desert her. Her heart refused to beat but in slow, suffotating throbs, which com- pelled her to lean for support against the wall and gasp for breath. There was no light in the music room, and the gas in the library was low; but she no longer needed light for her search. The darkness was more favor- able to her purpose. Almost she could fancy her father stood beside her to guide and support her. , Her dream had become reality, and invested the mo. ment with singular and almost* super- stitious import. “God help me!” she murmured, and moved noiselessly and swiftly across the floor, until her outstretched hands met the solid substance of the desk. Again she fell on her knees beside it, groping with her trembling fingers to find the tiny brass knob, whose secret so strange a circumstance had revealed to her. At last they touched—they pressed it. Merciful heaven! It refused to move! Had the events of the afternoon but shaped themselves into another dream, more dim, more indistinct, than the first? No, no! Her brain was clear enough, her senses had not deceived her. She could almost again hear the click of the spring as the drawer slid back to its place. ‘To her distorted fancy it now seemed the bolt which, springing in its socket, shut forever the door of hope and hap- piness against her, Again, and yet again, she strove to move the knob. It would not stir! “Oh, God, sead me some help!” she prayed, silently. But in her throat there rose a quiv- ering sob, and in the lonely darkness she hid her pale, agonized face in her hands. A sound startled her—a sound quite near—almost as if some one were be- side her in the darkened room. Was it fancy?—or had heaven sent a spirit to her aid? One more effort she must make. Again she felt her way to the knob. Merciful God! It moved! “Iam saved! I am saved!” she cried, in the intensity of relief, as the drawer slowly moved forward and her fingers closed upon its contents. In her excitement and agitation she had previously pressed the knob situ- ated directly beneath the secret hiding place, but heaven had directed her ef- forts aright. She sprang to her feet, and pressed the papers fervently to her lips. “It remains now, Bertie, only to prove your innocence!” she said, aloud: ‘and these,” clasping the precious papers to her heart, “give me the power. Thank God! Thank God!” But even as she uttered her thanks- giving, some one stole behind her in the darkness; some one’s arm was thrown roughly about her waist—a hot, reeking breath burned her cheek—and the pa- pers were torn from her trembling grasp. She uttered one faint scream. It was answered by the sound of hur- rying footsteps. The light in the library streamed to its full height, but it revealed to Ran- dolph Chester, as he hastened forward, only Beatrice, as she stood, pale, gasp- ing and leaning for support against the fated desk. Close behind him followed William Grant. CHAPTER XXVIII. “Child, what has happened?” cried Chester. Beatrice cast one searching look about the room, to be sure that it heid no other save herself and the two men who had just entered it. “Courage—courage!”’ she whispered to herself, with pale, trembling lips. Then she took one step forward. She believed that she saw before her the ‘man who had just robbed her. How could anyone else have escaped from the room? “Give them back to me!” she cried, in a voice trembling with passion. “Give them back to me, Randolph Cheste’ You no longer have a child to deal with, but a woman, whose wrongs have ren- dered her desperate. Thief! Give back to me the papers which you just have stolen!” 4 It wes now Chester's turn to blanch. “The papers!” he repeated after her, in a dull, mechanica! voice. “The papers!” she cried, her own voice losing its sweetness and growing nearly shrill as some of the torture ot her agonized suspénse thus found {ts vent. “As you are @ man, as you are human, give them back to me—the pa- pers which prove you a villain, coward, thief!” Randolph Chester fastened his gaze upon her. A sudden wonder seized him to know if this girl, indeed, were play- ing, in very truth, the role he had as- sumeé for her. Had trouble driven her mad, or was there some mystery fatal to himself and his own hopes, underlying her words He strode forward and seized her slender wrists in a grip of iron. “Control yourself!” he said, sternly, “and let me hear no more such er-j- thets as you have just applied to me. Take care! Another scene so violent as this, and I will lock you in a mad- house!” He no longer pleaded; he threatened. Maddened, desperate, she wrenched herself from his grasp and fell on her knees beside Mr. Grant, who had stood back, pale and silent. “Help me! Wor God's sake, help! Take me from this house! I care not where I go, so that I may not be near him. Do you not see that I am in his power, and that he is not man, but dev- fl? Oh, God, he is driving me to mad- ness!” And she fell prostrate at his feet. Chester strode forward, as if to lift her, but Mr. Grant waved him back. “She is excited!” he said. “You can do no good just now. Even a stranger, like myself, would be less hurtful to her.” (To Be Continued.) Teddy slept in a big bed with his mother, and one winter night, being right in the middle of {t when his moth- er’s bedtime came, she suggested to him to move on his side. He blinked at her, rebelliously. “No, I t'ink I won't move; it’s cold everywhere I ain't." Harper's Coincidental Deaths. Canon Scott Moncrieff’s death within @ quarter of an hour of his wife’s— from totally different causes—recalls that of the Bishop of Clonmel at Wat- erloo Road, in Dublina few years ago. His wife being suddenly taken ill at midnight, he rushed into the street in search of a doctor, was seized with heart failure and both died almost sim- ultaneously. Similar cases with twins have been mysteriously common. On January fifth of last year twins George and John Smith, of Peckham, died of pneumonia on the same day. Still later two children, both named Ada Deller, but total strangers, being of the same age and living close together at Lam- beth. were found dead in bed on the same date.—London Chronicle. Anecdotal. “I find myself too poor,” faltered Sir Valter Raleigh, ‘to keep a servant!” “Well?” rejoined the good Queen Bess, with froideur, for she chanced to be crosser than two sticks that day. © “Your majesty,” quoth the courtier, “if I have no servant, who, pray, is to throw an ewer of .water over me as I enjoy my pipe, exclaiming: ‘Where there is smoke there is fire?’” Even the Tudor could not find it in her heart to stand in the way of Sir Walter’s having an anecdotal side to his character, accordingly, albeit, it was with no very good grace, she drew | an order upon the royal exchequer.— Detroit Journal. How Corpses Travel at Sea. In touching on this gruesome subjec* of the disposition and transportation 0° bodies, we wonder how many of ou readers who may chance to see a grea box hoisted on a trans-Atlantic stear er, labeled, “Specimen of Natural His tory,” are aware that it contains a hu man body. Yet such is the fact—an‘ in such a manner does the entry ap- pear on the ship’s manifest. Sailors have long abandoned the superstitio! against sailing with such an “item” among the cargo; but passengers— most of them pleasure-seekers—are al ways bathed in gloom at such a re minder that man;is mortal. Hence the delicate euphimism. * The Smallest Monarch. The smallest monarch in the world is a woman, who reigns over the Hindoo state of Bhopaul and governs more than 1,000,000 souls. Her name is Dji- han-Begum, and, while she is nearly fifty years old, she is hardly as large as the average child of ten. She is a firm, just ruler, however, and holds the reins of government with better judg- ment than most of the men who govern adjoining states. PATENTS. List of Patents Issued to Northwes Northwestern Inventors. Anna L. Deming, Pipestone, Minn., belt; Royal K. Emily, Manchester Minn., device for use in making butter; Axel N, Helstrom, Tower, Minn., scaf- fold bracket; Andrew P. Johnson, Min- neapolis, Minn., portable clothes line reel; Delbert F. Miller, Antelope, N. D., draft-shifting and hold-back at- tachment for grain headers. Lothrop & Johnson, patent attorneys, 911 & 912 Pioneer Press Bldg., St. Paul, Minn. Faint Heart. Miss Timidity—I’'ve thought it all over, and I believe it would be wiser for you to ask papa for my hand. Cautious Lover—Oh, I’m sure it would be 2 most indiscreet thing for me to do. I think we’d beter have some dis- interested third party approach him on the subject.—Ohio State Journal. HO! FOR OKLAHOMA! New lands soon to open. Beready! Morgan's Manual, with supplement containing proclamation.map showing allotments, County seats, etc.. $1. Supplement & Map, 5Oc. Agents Wanted. DICK T. MORGAN, Perry, O. T: Quite Likely. Bloomer (to ragged urchin)—‘Your parents left you something when they died, did they not?” Urchin—“O, yes, sir.” Bloomer—“And what did they leave you?” Urchin—‘An orphan, sir.” Mrs. Winsiow’s Soothing Syrup. For chiidren teetiing. sorzens the gums, reduces tr flammation, sllays pain.cures wind colic. '25c.a bottle: A Practical Juliet. Reginald—‘I love you, Madeline. For you I would give up family, position, wealth— Madeline—‘‘Hold, Reginald! Give up family is all right—I fain would be spared a mother-in-law; give up your position if you can get a better one, but please hold on to your wealth. We may need it.” Some articles must be described; White’s Yucatan needs no description; it’s the real thing. Fine Progress. “Ethel is doing just tovely with her music,” said Maud. “She doesn’t play any better than she used to,”” answered Mamie. “No. But she has gotten so she refers to ‘rag time’ as ‘syncopated time.’ ”’— Washington Star. Piso’s Cure is the best medicine we ever used for all affections of the throat and lungs.—W™m O. Espsugey, Vanburen, Ind., Feb. 10, 1900. ‘When the devil becomes the defend- ant of the faith it is time to revise the creed. ¥or weakness, stiffness and soreness in aged people use Wizard Oil. Your druggist knows this and sells the oil. An actor’s ripe experience doesn’t prevent him from getting green from jealousy. Eve wasn’t the first literary woman, but she was the author of original siz atany foot, and the construction of the shoe. oft know) brad far' hi made W. |.. Douglas shoes the Eo a aubaticute. insist on having W. In GEN. JOE WHEELER Says of Peruna: “I joia Senators Sullivan, Roach and McEnery in their good opinion of Peruna as an efe BINDING TWINE! Prices are on board cars at Minneapolis. Prices quoted are net cash with order. ‘No discount al- lowed. Put up in 50 or 60 Ib. sacks which BINDER J TWINE we CANNOT BREAK. We have fust received several thousand pounds of Binding Twine made this year, fresh from the factory. This twine has just been made for us in 190%. We contracted for same several months ago and received same new in April this year. To-day’s prices om this twine we will make as follows: NEW STANDAR ISAL Fwike, per Ted os = 72c¢ MANILA, 3 per [b. eng ct 4c IRAFFE NANILA MIX = CRANE: BaANELA MIX bas 9%c Kindly send in your orders for what twine you may nepc promptly. Should you desire to send us a deposit of haif the amount we will hold this twine subject to your order until the first of June, providing you so state in writing us. w ‘we.do not claim tobe selling the cheapest twine in the market by any means. still, omaccount of the fact that we would not agree to hold-the prices on twine, most of the factories have refused tosellus. You will find the twine that we offer above will give splendid satisfaction. We especially recommend the Giraffe Manila Mixed Twine, as it is made for us_by one of the largest and best mills in the United States, and the fiber from whieh it is made is selected from the newest, brightest and strongest, leaving the bal- ance for a cheaper gride of twine, and the best, oldest and most skilled worknen only are allowed tospin it. Letus hear from you at once in regard to twine, as we feel, considering the grade of twine, we are offering you one of the best bargains in the market. T. M. ROBERTS’ SUFPLY HOUSE, MINNEAPOLIS, MINN. CORNED FEET Some feetare eo fuls of corns they are mis- shapen and unsightly. } LEONARD’S Hamburg i Rids fect of corns, soft, bard or, other wise, on the joint between the certain—so cer: tain that ted twill ve fund your money if Tha ledoos not do alt this, rice be ob or TEONAHD £60, Golo Prope) Ohicagee SEND US¥OUR NAME AND ADDRESS and upon recefpt of same I. will send yous proposition whereby you will be liberally paid for a fow minutes of your time; no-can- to sell. “Tt costs rite to-day. vassing, aa I have nothin, You absolutely nothing. W. ©. KLEINE, 8100 Pine Street, St. Louts, Mo IN 3 OR 4 YEARS AN INDEPENDENCE ASSURED 160 ACRE M S ye up home tn Western. ada, the land of plenty. Llustrated pamphle' Legere ol tmformation as to reduced railway rates can be had on apptication to the Superintendent of Immigration, Department of Interior. Ottawa Canada, or to Ben Davies 154% East Third \W.L.DOUGLAS $3, & $3.50 SHOES Keal worth of W. L. Dow SE SO%choes We Bd to aoe My BE Gilt Edge Line cannot be equalled iegonceear ee no should rer, 1, if he does not, GLAS, Brockton, Mass. ( aN . O. Currie, No 1, ‘aukee, Wis. UNION MADE. My 34 = a