Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, January 10, 1903, Page 6

WVIIVVVV KAAAAAAA CHAPTER X. (Continued.) “Case of prodigal son and fatted ealf, no doubt,” in such a tone that Ralph felt himself color with anger; ut he restrained himself, and only aid: “Sneer if you want to, Dick, but a fellow, however hardened he may get knocking about the world, does still ‘have a soft streak in him somewhere. I hope you are not short for funds just mow, Dick.” changing his tone, ab- uptly. “Too short to give you any,” was the ly. “That wasn’t what I meant,” an- @wered Ralph. “I was going to say I ‘oped soon to settle up with you. By Jove! you may not believe me, but I shan’t always be as short as I have een lately.” Dick looked at Ralph in amazement. “Coming into some property?” he asked, taking the cigar from his mouth that he might stare harder. “Wwell—mind, it’s not certain—but I onfidently expect to do so; and I @han’t forget you, old fellow.” Ralph laughed, inwardly, as he thought how differently he meant his words from what his listener under- stood them. “J should say you’d better not forget me,” surlily responded Dick, “because I might make it unpleasant for you if you did, you know. By the way, is that girl really your sister, Ralph?” Caryl’s fingers tingled to knock the fellow down, but he only said: “She is my sister. What do you ask that for?” “Because I never heard you mention that you had one—in fact, I thought you were the only darling of your pa- rents.” “Which shows that you are some- ¢imes mistaken, my dear Dick. Julia ‘was lonesome at home; besides, her ‘health has not been very good this @ummer, and we thought it would be Just the thing for her to get a breath of salt air.” “Mighty odd that you wanted the other of her, though. Are you com- Ang out as a model brother and son, or are you studying to join the theater?” “Don’t chaff, Dick; it doesn’t be- ‘come you,” And Ralph turned to go down in the ‘cabin, when Dick detained him by say- “T think I can get her boarded with me.” “She won't stay a week.’ ’ “Why?” “'ll be too slow for her.” “Pshaw! You don’t know what pow- ers of finding entertainment she has,” ‘was the answer. “True; she may find amusement in Mirting with Vance Rothesay—when Yhe gets well enough. I can’t think of vanything else she can do.” “Jule doesn’t flirt,” said Ralph, with ~@very appearance of truth. And then he left Dick, secretly some- “what diSscomposed at the mention of ‘Rothesay’s name, for Ralph had, for “the moment, forgotten the sick man at WPurceil’s. Julia Caryl had rarely been so curi- @us about anyone as she was about “this girl whom both her brother and Dick Burt wished to marry, though ‘from different reasons. She had not asked Ralph to de- s@eribe the girl, because she knew men aw girls so differently; but she was | ared to dislike her. Julia did not 6 women, anyway, and this particu- Jar one she was ready to despise. It was the next day after Julia’s ar- mival. She had walked along the ‘beach and seen the houses of the fish- -ermen, and been surprised at the pov- -erty of their appearance. Ralph had pointed out the clump of e@weliings, saying that Miss Purcell “Gived in one of them. Juiia was alone, and she wandered ~on the beach, hoping to see someone ‘thinking she would recognize Kate Purcell immediately. “I suppose she does look a little dif- ferent from a fishwoman,” she solilo- quized, “or they wouldn’t have called ther the “Daughter of the Beacfi.” She remained half an hour near the houses, but there was little sign of life fm the group, for the men were all out fishing and the women at work in the houses. Kate Purcell, as she washed dishes and swept and tidied the house, saw the unknown, graceful figure on the ’ gands, and paused ‘in her work to con- ‘template it. But she did not pause long; she hurried through her tasks, ‘and then took her basket to go over to the other side of the pond blueberry- ‘ng. ‘With her broad hat fastened securely against the brisk east breeze, she left ‘the house, and was soon toiling up the ocky hills where the berries grew in profusion. Now along these hills nestle the cot- ‘tages of the Bostonians—then they were solitary—given up to a wilder- wess of trees and bushes, from amid whose leaves glimpses of the bay could ‘be seen—rare marine pictures in the foveliest of frames. Not an hour later, Julia Caryl, hav- ‘ing left the shore in despair of seeing -~what she sought, was wandering along ever the hills, near where Kate Purcell ‘was industriously picking berries, hap- @y in the wild beauty of the place and -exhilarated by the salt air. Kate did not know why, but it -eeomed to her that never before had ‘the world been so beautiful—never ad she been £0 happy, and this, not- -withstanding all her anxiety about her father. She was not thinking definitely of sanything, but her mind was in a pleas- sant revery, when she was disturbed by cry above her—higher up on the hill. She paused in her work, almost A Daughter of the Beach AAAAAABAAAAAAAS A ‘thinking it was a call of some bird; fut it came again, this time unmistak- | AAAAAAAAS ably a cry for help, and a cry in a wo- man’s voice. Kate set down her basket and began to climb upward; not making very rap- id progress on account of the steep- ness and the briers. She paused to utter an answering ery. “Where are you?” For she could not tell which way to turn, as the voice had not again spok- en. “This way! Make haste!” was the reply, So near as to surprise the girl. She turned to the right, went down a little declivity where there was an opening in the trees and underbrush, and paused in astonishment; and, in spite of herself, there was a good deal of amusement in her surprise. Clinging to the lower branches of a savin, her hat off, her scarlet shawl swinging from the bough, was a wo- man whose handsome face was flushed with anger ,and fear, who seemed ashamed of her fear, but not enough ashamed to overcome it. At the foot of the tree stood a young cow whose horns just could not reach the woman. As Kate came in sight the cow made a short run at the tree, tossing her horns wildly and shaking her head with great apparent fierceness. “Oh dear!” said Julia Caryl—for the “treed” one was she. “It’s only a wo- man, after all! You can’t do anything with that brute!” Kate took a long switch from a birch tree and advanced, saying: “I know the cew. She’s playful and not malicious. You must have run from her, and your red»shawl excited her.” “Playful!” cried Julia, in a tone as furious as it could be from her posi- tion. “She may seem playful to you, but she doesn’t seem that way to me. You can’t do anything with that switch. You'll have to call a man, and how I am going to keep in this posi- tion while you do it, I don’t know.” Kate smiled as she said: “If you really refuse to be rescued by a woman, I'll call some masculine aid; but there’s not the slightest need of a man.” Julia was too much flurried to notice that the newcomer did not speak like one of the “masses,” as she scornfully called them, and Kate’s humble dress | deceived her, and, Julia was one of those who never cared particularly to be polite to those below her “set.” “Don't talk like a fool!” she said, in response to Kate’s words, “but drive the beast away.” It was not strange that Kate Purcell was human enough not to feel like hur- rying when she was addressed in such an insolently imperious tone. If she had not been very tender- hearted she would have delayed “till more, as it was, she only paused an instant, a tinge of anger coming to her cheeks, But she felt that it was com- temptible for her to care for words like that, and she made a rush with her stick, at the cow which turned and scampered down the declivity, kicking up her heels as she went, as if she, too, were laughing at the tricks she had served the gir! in the tree. “You see, she was not malicious, If you had caught up a stick and turned upon her she would have run from you as well,” said Kate, pleasantly, as she returned to the tree. “Very likely; but I don’t pretend to understand cows,” was the reply. “Now how in the name of wonder am I to get down from here? I’ve torn my hands already.” Julia’s hands were bleeding where she clung to the tree. “Let go, and let yourself fall.” ad- vised Kate; “it’s but a few feet.” “But I’m not used to such things; it seems a great way. How in the world I ever got here I don’t know.” Kate stood in silence. She had no other advice to offer, and what she had suggested was easy enough. She was looking, in some curiosity and admira- tion, at the face above her. She decided to herself that the lady must be a visitor at some of the coun- try houses which the people of Boston had begun to build not far from there. “Well, aren’t you going to help me?” crossly cried Julia. “T can’t lift you down. I assure you it’s perfectly easy. Just let go, and you can’t help falling on your feet.” Julia muttered something; but her common sense told her that she must do as the girl said, and finally she made up her mind to let go her hold. She came down with very little of a jar; but she was thoroughly out of humor now, and, as there was no male auditor present, she did not try to con- ceal the fact. “It’s easy enough to stand and look on and see one jarred out of one’s senses,” she said, crossly; “but it is not so easy to the one to be shaken up. I feel as if I had displaced every bone in my body.” The tone was precisely as if Kate had been the cause of the whole, and Kate herself was conscious that she felt a desire, as in childhood, to slap the girl who talked thus. But Kate Purcell was a lady, a thorough gentle- woman, and overcame her vexation im- mediately. “I am very sorry,” she said. “Will you gllow me to bind up that hand? And let me suggest that you bathe it in arnica as soon as you can.” Julia submitted, and proffered her handkerchief to the deft fingers that were very soothing to their touch. And while Kate bound up the hand Julia examined her with scrutinizing gaze, and found that she possessed a rare beauty—a beauty that was not within any set rules, but that might be all the more attractive. Who was sh,? came to Julia’s mind now for the first time fet ae facade Ay serup at the pipet eat it was just such a dress as any peor person might wear. But for all that, and the fact that she was picking berries, Julia began to fear that she might be some rich girl who had taken the whim to spend the summer in disguise. She certainly looked, spoke and act- ed like-a lady, and Julia now began to be cdnscious that she herself had cer- tumly not spoke and acted like one. But she would not have cared if she had not suspected that her companion was other than she had thought at first. Ralph Caryl, in spite of his crimes, possessed a good deal more of what is known as good breeding than did his sister. 3 With her new suspicions, Julia thought it might be well to begin to be civil, and she said: “I fear I have not been courteous; but I was so alarmed that I hardly know what J did say. I hope you will pardon me.” “Pray don’t speak of it,” was the po- lite response, but spoken rather coldly. “You have been very kind. I hardly know what I should have done without your assistance,” went on Julia, still more cordially; for she began to be fully convinced that this must be a girl of wealth and social importance. “I beg you not to talk thus,” said Kate. “I did very little. I am sorry you should hare met with such an ac- cident. Youi hand will be painful for several days, I fear.” - Julia did not speak directly; she was occupied in looking for a letter she had missed from her pocket; and Kate took up the scarlet shawl and waited to throw it over the shoulders where it belonged. “You will not wear scarlet again without thinking of your mishap here,” she said, as she arranged the drapery. “And the thought will bring to mind my gratitude,” said Julia, now speak- ing in her softest tone and with her most winning manner, “May I not know to whom I am indebted?” “Certainly. I am Kate Purcell.” And again Kate thought it was curi- ous that she should be always telling people her name. Julia did not reply by giving her own name—something prevented her —but she held out her hand, saying, with great apparent cordiality: “T am almost tempted to be glad of the accident which has made you known to me. I am stopping at Mrs. Blanchard's, on the hill near the beach, and I hope to see you again.” Kate reciprocated that hope; though she could not do it very sincerely, for she was certain there was nothing in common between the two. “Do you know the way down?” she hastened to ask. “IT am not sure; you direct me.” “Go in that direction,” pointing, “and in a few minutes you will come to a path, which you will but have to follow down the hill.” After a few more words, inter- spersed with thanks, Julia left and be- gan the descent, glad to be alone to compose her thoughts. “So that is Kate Purcell?” she solil- oquized. “Well, I hate her! I should have hated her anyway, but more espe- cially as she saw me in that absurd predicament. I suppose I must have said some very rude things; but the amusement on her face, when she first saw me, made me frantic with rage. No; I won’t forgive her for that; and I'll pay her off one of these days! So she doesn’t care for Dick Burt? Well, she shall have the satisfaction of soon learning that he doesn’t care for her any more. I only wish there was a lover for whom she Wid care. It would be such pleasure to get her away from him, and I think I could do it. Let us hope there’ll be a chance. Yes, I hate her horribly! It’ be good enough for her to get to be my brother’s wife. I wonder if he is smitten with her? He didn’t say anything about it. He might, at least, have described her, and I shouldn’t have so demeaned my- self as to have been rude to her—and then to have to apologize. Oh, I will pay her off! If nothing else was the matter, she’s too nearly beautiful for me not to dislike her—and her clear eyes have a way of seeing right through anyone; they look as if they could detect deceit by a glance. But, of course, they can’t—that’s all folly! If they did, my brother would have, a poor chance.” Thus thinking, Julia Caryl Natvied down the hill and to Mrs. Blanchard’s. To the inquiries she met there, as to what had happened to her hand, she merely replied that she had torn the flesh with a thorn. As for Kate Purcell, she went on picking berries; her heart much less light than it had been before she had seen Julia. But she tried to put the thought of the woman from her. She should probably never see the stran- ger a dozen times in her life. She thought it very odd. that such a woman should choose to stay at Mrs. Blanchard’s. And then she resolutely thought of something else. When she reached the road, Julia Caryl met Dick Burt slowly sauntering along with his hands in his pockets. His stolid way of taking her presence but I can find it if piqued Julia more than anything he | could have done. She passed him with a frigid bow, having her own notion of the way she was to pursue with him. “Cold, stuck-up thing!” was his thought as she went on. “What in the deuce Caryl brought her here for I know -ot.” And he was far from guessing that her mission here referred almost ex- clusively to himself. CHAPTER XI. Rothesay’s Swoon. ‘ “T’ve seen my lady,” said Julia Caryl to her brother the first time she saw him alone. “Seem whom?” Ralph asked, look- ing up from his newspaper. “The girl—Kate Purcell.” “How did that happen? I was think- {ng we’d both call there to-night.” “She’s a despicable, underhanded thing, and I'll do my best to demolish her! She’s just hateful!” “Whew! how women do love each other!” exclaimed Ralph. “But Kate isn’t mean, nor underhanded nor de | spicabls.” neat, with a white collar ies You need not be afraid but ‘True énoukh. We will begin the siege directly.” “Yes, let us. Only- I do wish she was in love with Dick Burt.” ~ “Why?” in surprise. - “Can’t you see? If she loved him *twould be still better fun to get him away from her. As it is, I’m afraid it will be rather tame, and she'll thank me for doing it.” Julia paced up and down in front o* her brother. “You'll have put up with the present state of things,” he said. “You can’t expect a woman like Kate Purcell to love Dick Burt; that’s asking too much.” “Do you love her?” facing about and gazing at him sharply. “I? No; I’m past the time for loving in that way. I fear my salad days are over,” he said, easily. She believed him; anyway, it made little difference to her. ° “Let us call over there to-night,” Ralph said, after a few moments. “But it’s the thing for her to call on me.” “Bosh! “We don’t mind such things here. Will you go?” “Of course, if you say so.” But she did not go, for before night it came on to rain heavily, and her brother was forced to go alone. When he came back his sister, who was waiting for him, asked eagerly concerning his visit. He was surly and discontented. “Didn’t see Kate more than ten minutes, and was forced to talk with the old man, thinking she’d come in every minute. He said Rothesay was going to try to get down stairs and out of doors to-morrow.” (To Be Continned.) Where Woman Is Boss. There is a remarkable community in Abysinnia where the women, with- out holding meetings or agitations of any kind, have emancipated them- selves. All the women work hard, while the men are idle; but, by way of compensation, the house and all it contains, belong to the wife. band out at night, in storm or rain, pnd) he. cannot come. back suntil hes ty ay idea did not at first commend makes amends by the gift of a cow. The wife considers it a duty to abuse | the husband, and if she were weak enough to show any love for him in life or grief at his death she would be scorned by her tribe. out any reason, may strike her tent and go, taking with her one-third of | The husband, | the joint possessions. unless he is traveling, may not live out of his tent.—Golden Penny: Zola’s Way to Die. It was not long before the tragedy that stirred not only all Paris, but all the intellectual world, that someone asked the late Emile Zola how he would wish to die, if the choice could be his. In the light of later events, the reply was remarkable: “It cannot matter,” the novelist is said to have answered, “providing only that death comes so suddenly as to give me no time to ‘prepare’ for it, as they say.” Quite as characteristic, though less pointed by tragic fact, were some of Zola’s replies to other questions in the same interview. “My favorite authors? Those who can see clearly and tell clearly what they see. “My favorite heroes and heroines in real life? Those who are not the he- roes. In real life I love best the men and women who are able to conceal their sufferings.”—Philadelphia Press. “Bachelor Cowgirls.” The eight bachelor girls, daughters of William Walker, the owner of a big cattle ranch in Oregon, do almost all the work of caring for the horses and cattle maintained by their father. Clad in picturesque but practical cos- tumes of duck, buckskin and plain cal- ico, the “cut out” cattle almost daily, ° break and train unruly horses; and if night overtakes them in the mountains or far out on the prairie, curl up in their saddle blankets and sleep the sleep that knows no fear. Withal these daring bachelor girls are quiet- mannered and womanly, and they are only unmarried because every one of them is in love wth her present lot.— Pilgrim. ren SAE ae en His Iron Life Belt. Some time ago a ship which carried a few passengers, while crossing the Atlantic, was caught in a heavy storm. The captain of the ship, seeing the passengers in danger of being washed overboard, ordered them to lash them- selves to anything that would keep them afloat in case the ship was wreoked. But after a time, however, the storm passed off, and a Suffolk man, who was one of the passengers, was missed. Thinking that the worst had hap- pened, a search around the boat was at once made, and after a time he was found up in the bow of the boat, fast asleep, with the anchor tied to him.— Philadelphia Inquirer. An Intelligent Dealer. In preparing children for their sum- mer outings, under the fresh-air fund, it is often necessary that the bodies, | and especially the scalps of the young- sters be cleansed. With this end in view, a young min- ister on the Lower East Side entered a near-by drug store and asked for a fine-tooth comb. The dealer, much surprised, exclaimed: “Tooth comb! No; but we have some fine tooth brushes.”—New York Times. Proof Positive. Judge—Gracious, that tramp dog is savage. Just snapped at my hand when I tried to feed him. Fudge—That proves that he is nota tramp dog. “How?” A tramp always likes a ‘hand-out.’” —Philadelphit Inquirer. One Didn’t Pay. He—Will you teach me how to make love to you? She—I will if I can get up a class.— Philadelphia Inquirer. f lever you think. But we won't discuss. the | es be all velvet to her. I know At the | least unkind word she turns her hus- | The wife, wih- | + HINGS NOT WELL SAID. Slow Speech. very amusing examples of how things can be said in a queer way. One of the most unfortunate recorded at- tempts to escape from a conversa- tional difficulty was made by a Lon- don curate, who cultivated the friend- ship of mechanics. One day a carpenter came to him and said— “I have brought my boy’s likeness, as you said you'd like to have it.” “How good of youto remember!” | said the curate. “What a capital like- ness! How ig he?” “Why, sir, don’t you remember?” said the carpenter. “He’s dead.” “Oh, yes, of course I know that!” replied the curate. “I mean, how’s the man that took the photograph?” A story is told of a young 1. rer who, on his way to his day’s work, called at the registrar’s office to regis- | ter his father’s death. When the of- | ficial asked the date of the event, the . son replied: “He ain’t dead yet, but he'll be dead | before night, so I thought it would save me another journey if you would put it down now.” “Oh, but that won’t do at all!” said the registrar. “Perhaps your father | will live till to-morrow.” “Well, I don’t know, sir; the doc-! tor says as he won’t; and he knows what he has given him!” THE GROWTH OF CREMATION. Figures Show the Idea Is Advancing in | Popularity. Sir Henry Thompson has just been | sketching the history of cremation in | England. He was one of the pioneers of the movement, which began in the seventies with the formation of a cre-| mation society, of which he was elect- ed president, and has occupied that | office since then. It was the first in- | stitution of the kind ever founded, al- though the continent had preceded us in burning the dead. Of course the great difficulty was the prejudice that had to be met and overcome. The itsélf to more than the very few. As late as 1885 there were only three cre- mations at Woking during the whole Two Stories That Show the Value we An English author has given some — A LURKING DANGER. There is a lurking daager in the aching back. The aches and pains of a bad back tell of kidneys overworked, Go to the kidneys’ assistance when backache pains warn you. A kidney warning chould be heeded, for dangerous diabetes quickly follows in the wake of backache. Urinary disorders are serious and Bright’s disease is near at hand. Read how the danger can be averted. Case No. 15,741.—Re~. Jacob D. Van i Doren, of 57 Sixth street, Fond du Lac, Wis., Presbyterian clergyman, says: “A man or‘woman who has never had kidney complaint or any of the little ills consequent upon irritated or inac- tive kidneys knows very little about | what prolonged suffering is. I had at- tacks which kept me in the house for days at a time, unable to do anything, and to express what I suffered can hardly be adequately done in ordinary Anglo-Saxon. As time passed, compli- cations set in, the particulars of which I will be pleased to give in a personal interview to any one who requires in- formation. I used plenty of Temedies, and, ever on the outlook for something that might check or benefit my condi- tion, I began taking Doan’s Kidney Pills. This I can conscientiously say, Doan’s Kidney, Pills caused a general improvement in my health. They brought great relief by lessening the pain and correcting the action of the kidney secretions. A FREE TRIAL of this great kidney medicine, which cured the Rev. Jacob Van Doren, will be mailed on applica- tion to any part of the United States. Address Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y. For sale by all druggists. ‘Price 50 cents per box. Talent Not Appreciated. “Madam,” explained Harry Higgins, “Tm an after-dinner speaker.” “Then,” said Mrs. Snappem, before slamming the door, “you'll do no talk- Ing here.”—Detroit Free Press. $100 Reward 8100. The readers of this paper will be pleased to year. In 1901 the number ran up to 300, which indicates an enormous ad- vance, but over the area outside the metropolis there were only 145 alto-| gether. However, signs of progress are numerous, not only in a wider de- | sire to dispose of the dead by fire, but in the erection of new crematories in towns that had not previously made such provision. Sir Henry Thompson is justified in feeling encouragement, and is determined to continue his strenuous campaign against earth bur- ial—Liverpool Post. BUSY AND USEFUL LIFE. Helpfulness and Hope the Keynote of Mrs. Sangster’s Career. Mrs. Sangster is a tall, silver-haired lady with clear, blue eyes, a sweet voice, a gentle, dignified manner and ; @ sunny optimism that banishes care * and sorrow from her presence. Her sixty years have deen busy ones. Her early education was principally in her own home, and even as a child she gave signs of the literary future to- ward which she was hastening. Her} first poem was written for the Inde- pendent, and its publication was a red- letter day in the calendar of her years. In 1871 she became editor of Hearth and Home, later becoming associated with the Christian at Work, Christian Intelligencer, Harper’s Young People, Harper’s Bazar, Collier’s Weekly and Ladies’ Home Journal. Her collections of poems and her other books all have the simple, ethical helpfulness of making religion a working, practical force in every-day lives.—Exchange. Mutual Misunderstanding. When Baron Haussmann went to Constantinople on a visit to Abdul Aziz, who was then sultan, he had an interview with the grand vizier, who did not know a word of French. At the beginning of the interview the old long Turkish pipes were brought in and then Baron Haussman began mak- ing a very long speech in French. The grand vizier could not understand 2 word, but listened most attentively till he noticed that his pipe had gone out and clapped his hand for a servant to come and re-light it. Haussmann, thinking he was applauding, rushed toward him with outstretched hand, intending to shake hands and thank him. The grand vizier, seeing his hand put forth, shook it warmly and said “Good-by,” under the impression it was Haussman’s intention to leave, and quitted the room.’ Strange Picture Story. A story of strange happenings to a valuable picture—an Albert Durer | worth £40,000—comes from a village in West Flanders. An inhabitant re- ceived the picture from Paris some years ago, and, being ignorant of its value, sold it to a local carriage paint- er, whose son disposed of it to an “amateur” for fifty francs. This gave rise to legal proceedings between the first seller and the carriage painter, in the course of which the picture was identified as one which had been stolen from the Royal Picture Gallery at Munich. The work is a representa- tion of the Apostles, one of Durer’s masterpieces, and the signature of the artist is in a corner of the panel. Would Like a Guarantee. “I wish,” said the rabbit who found himself in the boa constrictor’s cage, “that the Monroe doctrine prevailed in this menagerie.” “What do you mean?” inquired his snakeship. “I wouldn’t mind getting a good scare now and then if I could only be guar- anteed against being swallowed alive.” Jearn that there is at least one dreaded di that science has been able to cure stages,and that is Catarrh. Hall's * Cure is the only positive cure now known medical fraternity. Catarrh being a constitu- | tional disease, requires a constitutional treat- ‘ment. Hall's Catarrh Cure is taken internally acting directly upon the blood and mucous sure faces of the system, thereby destroying the toundation of the disease, and giving the patiens Ftrength by building up the constitution an& assisting nature in doing its work. The pro- prietors have so much i%ith in its curative powers that they offer One Hundred Dollars for. any case that it fails tocure. Send for list of Testimonials. Address F. J. CHENEY & CO., Toledo, 0. ‘Sold by druggists 7ac. Hall's Family Jills are the best. An Habitual Offender. Jaggles—I understand he’s a golf en- thusiast. Has he broken any records? Waggles—No. He never breaks any- thing but the Sabbath—New York Times. THE TORTURE OF PILES relieved promptly, and permanently cured by Cole’s Carbolisalve. Guarantes goes | with each box. Get the genuine. At drug- gists, 25c and 50c. Great Labor Saver. Customer—The metal in that knife you sold me yesterday is as soft as jaaety It got dull the first time I used aioe “view: but think how easy it will be to sharpen—New York Weekly. The best lands of Germany are now devoted to the culture of the sugar beet, the greater proportion of the product being exported. Even a filter cannot clear the Schuylkill water of suspicion. Stops the Cough and Works Off the Coid Laxative Bromo Quinine Tablets. Price 25c. 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