Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, February 21, 1903, Page 7

WE os —— a oe 7 iN 8 IN IN XK VV evr ee VO A Daughter of the Beach KMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANA AAAAAAA N CHAPTER XV.—Continued. Burt looked at Kate’s father a mo- ment, half puzzled what to do. He was roused more fully than ever to the nature of his feeling for the girl, and then he was of that kind who, for the very reason that he had once decided to have her for his wife, would not retreat. He would hang on to a purpose as a bulldog hangs on to a hold of anything. He leaned forward, and put his hand rather emphatically on Purcell’s arm. “Just listen to me a moment, will you, Purcell?”he asked. The elder man looked up, as if im- patient at being disturbed, and snarled: “Well, what do you want? If you want money, you have only to wait until we find that treasure, you know. It’s a sure thing.” Yes; the old man was fast becoming @ monemaniac. It seemed evident in the eager glitter of his eyes when he mertioned his one. pet subject— in | the nervous motion of his hands, the tremor of his lips. But Burt was not a man to waste pity on him. He had not lost his bal- ance of mind, and he had dug for treasure, too;but then, he had never expected to find any, save in that one exciting moment when he had seen that chest brought to the light be- neath their shovels. But he shud- | dered as he recalled that time, He | had had enough of that kind of work, | and he was not going to bother with | an imbecile like Purcell any longer. | He was about tired of staying in| that place; he had some promising speculations on hand, and he wanted to be married and take his wife away —and he was a man used to doing as he wanted to do. “That's all bosh!” he exclaimed, in answer to Purcell’s last words, “and I believe the time has come to tell you so. You never'}l find any treasure and I can’t wait for you to try any longer. I need my money very much that I have lent you, and I must have it. Can you promise it to me next week?” * Pufcell’s face grew more helpless looking. “I can’t—you know, I can’t” he said. “What's come over you, Dick? I haven’t got five dollars, I told you you before. All I own in the world is that porr little house and this boat.” “Yes,” said Dick, brutally, “and I’ve a mort e on them, you know, and it’s drawn so I can _ sell you up at short notice. And I'll do it, too.” Purcell’s eyes glimmered with anger for a moment; then the spark died away and he said: “T can’t help it. I thought you were a friend or I'd never have borrowed of you—I’m sure of that. Sell me up, then, and Kate and I will go forth pen- niless—and I am an old man to go to a strange place. ‘And the treasure, Dick,” bending nearer and speaking with rapid emphasis—“can you give that up?” | “Easy enough.” Don’t talk of that any more.” “Then you are not partner with me ny more?” “No, L tell you. I'll have nothing | more to do with it.” “Then I shall have thewhole! My | entered the room. child will be rich!” | Purcell, as he spoke, half rose in his | seat, while he clasped his hands in an | ecstacy of anticipation. Truly, his | mind was fast losing its strength. “Don’t act like an idiot!” fiercely cried Burt, feeling an impulse to strike the man who could talk like that. Don’t you see you are ruined? How do you ‘think you can go digging for treasure when your daughter’s starv- ing? If you can pay attention a mo- ment I have a proposition to make. | Do you hear me?” | “Oh, yes, I am listening!” meekly, for Purcell was subdued and overawed by this strong-willed, lawless fellow. “Tl give you more time to pay me— in fact, I'll advance a few hundred more to you ona condition. And then you can stay here and go on with your digging—” “But, Dick,” interposed Purcell, “I thought you believed in the treasure as much as I did.” > “Never mind if I did. I giveit up now, anyway. Do you want a chance to go on with your search?” “You know I do!” eagerly. “Then I'll give you two weeks in which to help persuade Kate to be my wife. I can’t waste much more time about here.” Purcell heard this in silence. With an effort he put his mind on the sub- ject. It was only by special exertion that, now ‘he fit of thinking of the treasure had come upon him with re- newed force, he could take his mind from broding upon that one topic. He thought of Kate now and of her face as he had taiked with her of Bert the last time, but a few days before. “You can’t make up your mind to give her up, can you?” he asked. Burt swore that he could not, and Purcell said: “Then we must find some means tc bring her round to our ideas.” “T think I can suggest a very power- ful means,” said Dick. “What is it?” “Make her understand that you are ruined if she does not marry me. I think you'll find the idea will have weight with her. She is to save you by that marriage. And no very hard Jot, I must say,” went on Burt, with more excitement, “to marry a man ‘worships her. I vow, she’s a different sort of girl from what I think she is if she refuses.” “And if she does refuse?” ventured to remark. \ “Am I a sort of a fellow that begins a thing and then gives it up?” asked Purcell Burt. “You know I’m not. Just listen then, while I say that she shall be my wife—by some means. Now, you see, you’d better use your utmost in- fiuence to have the match come about by decent means. That’s all I’ve got to say about the matter. I'll see you day after to-morrow, when I want you to tell me what progress you have made.” Without saying anything more, Burt took up his oars and turned his boat shoreward, leaving Putcell staring after him in surprise. “Of course Kate must consent when I explain matters to her,” the old man mused. “She isn’t the girl to stand by and see her father ruined. She must be Burt’s wife; that’s the sum of the whole matter, and then I shall have plenty of time to give my whole attention to the finding of that money. Yes, she must be his wife. He loves her, and she'll grow to like him well enou: Purcell also took his oars and rowed homeward. He was resolyed to put the matter directly before Kate. So changed had he become within the last year that those who had known him only in the prime of his manhood would hardly have - recognized him now. Kate watched him with unspoken anxiety; she saw that his mind was not what it had been; she feared, she knew not what, for the future. She knew only one thing—that it took strength, all her hope and loyalty, to bear her along in the days that were coming. He had seemed less absent of late, and she had began to hope that he would again be like himself. Sitting at the open window, with some work in her hands, she saw him coming up the sands. She saw in- stantly that he was intent upon some- thing. Resolutely she had set to work as soon as the detective had gone; she fought every moment against the fear and the love of her heart. The look of repression upon her face was painful to see, but her father hardly noticed it as he came in. CHAPTER XVI. Purcell’s Surprise. “T want to talk to you a few mo- ments,” he said, directly after he “IT am ready to listen,” she replied, looking forward to some contest, and believing that Dick Burt must be the subject of it. Hurriedly, but emphatically, her father told her that he was a ruined man unless she chose to save him. He mentioned no names, but dwelt on the fact that she could save him. How many a time has an innocent daughter been, offered thus! Kate listened in silence. She could not grow any paler, but her face be- came set, and filled with even a deeper | suffering. Purcell paused at last, and asked: “What will you do? It all depends upon you, Kate.” “You have not yet told me what you wish me to do.” “To become Dick Burt’s wife,” look- | ing anxiously and pleadingly at her. | A shiver of repugnance went over | her. She did not speak directly. At | last, in answer to her father’s impa- | tient “Well?” she exclaimed: “Anything but that!” i “Of course, anything but what | want you to do, and what will really | be of some service,” he cried, in- | dignantly. Kate looked up with a blaze in her | clear eyes. “You know I would work for you— undergo any privation for you, father, | but this you have no right to ask, and I cannot do it.” “You mean you will not?” “IT mean it is wicked for me to do it!” rising and standing before him, her figure dilated with just indigna- tion, a deep crimson coming to her pale cheeks, her eyes flashing fire, her lips quivering with excitement. “You have a very odd view of wickedness, I must say, Kate,” said Purcell, in a bitterer tone than he had ever spoken before to his daughter. “You can prevent my utter ruin by marrying an honest fellow who loves you, and you refuse. That’s what I call love and duty to a parent.” Kate listened with that feeling which we have all sometimes known— the wild consciousness that what we are suffering is unendurable, and that we must fly from it—that we cannot bear it. And yet we must. She stood holding to the back of a chair, looking down at her father, who had retained his seat opposite to her, and who seemed so different from what he once had been that she felt like one in a nightmare trying to re- cover herself. “Have I ever failed in my love and duty to you?” she asked, as soon as she could speak steadily. “Not until now. But now is the time when I most need your help, and you refuse it.” { ered what kind of a daughter I have— She was torn by the conflicting feel- ings of love to her father, a desire to do as he desired, and an insurmount- able repugnance, a deep conviction that this thing a parent had no right to require. .No duty called upon her to make that last supreme sacrifice of herself. She was wrong in that re- solve, and she said: “T am willing to work harder than I do now. I could support you both and myself, father. Think again before you are angry with me for this refusal. I am a human being—an individual like yourself—and I have a right to re- fuse such a thing. I cannot become Dick Burt’s wife. No, I will never con- sent to that. You need never ask me. I will work for you day and night. I will be your slave, but I will not be his wife.” The color which had.for a moment swept up into the girl’s face now ebbed away, leaving her so pale that it seemed impossible for her to have strength to stand. But there was no wavering in her resalve. Her father was in that condition when he cared for nothing with such intensity as he cared for the power to go on with that search which filled all his thoughts. Burt could give him the power. If Burt married Kate, he could still have the means of carrying on his: secret labors. If Burt did not marry her, he did not see how he was going to stay —he would be driven from his home, disgraeed. He was not so blind but he could see that Burt would deal with him cruelly. = So weakened had Purcell’s affections become, so changed ‘the powers of his mind, that he felt nothing but anger as he listened te Kate’s words and saw the expression of her face—the ex- pression which told him he could not expect to change her. “Very well,” he said, with contemp- tuous coldness; “it will be as you say, of course. The time has gone by when a father can force his daughter to obey him in such a command. It is as well, perhaps, that I have discov- that all her professions of love meant nothing.” Kate’s gaze softened from its stern resolye into a look of love and plead- ing, but she turned in silence and walked toward the door. She passed through it, hesitating, then turned back. She approached her father, threw herself upon her knees by him and seized his hands, pressing her face down on them, for now a flood of bit- ter tears was pouring from her eyes, and sobs uncontrollable shook her frame. She had loved her father dearly, and until of late, though never a strong- minded man, he had been worthy of that love. Purcell’s face lightened—she was about to yield to his wishes. He bent over her, saying almost tenderly: “Do not feel thus. You see it is nothing so fearful I ask of you. He will be devoted to you, you will be as happy as most women, and you will save your father.” As soon as she could speak, Kate raised her face and Purcell, even, was thrilled by the sweet beauty of it, the supplication in the tearful eyes and upon the quivering lips. “Let us move away from here,” she whispered. ‘Let us go where no one knows us and where you will be your- self again, father, and will love me. Something has changed you. Burt's influence has been bad. You used not to be in debt. We have lived poorly, but we have not owed. Let us go this very day. Leave the house and all to Burt. We will go—we will go within the hour. Come, tell me you will!” Her trembling impetuosity did not shake his resolve, but he was troubled. She hung upon him—she poured forth her entreaties with passionate aecent—and he had thought she was about to consent to his wishes. “No, no!” he said at last, withdraw- ing his hand from hers. “I must stay here. I have a special object in stay- ing here. I can beg my bread if I can- not earn it, and all will know that my child refused the only thing her father asked. I thought you had relented. | Don’t stay with me longer, let me try to bear my disappointment, alone.” Kate rose to her feet as he spoke thus. “I cannet see that it is my duty to obey you in this,” was her hardly auSi- ble response, and Purcell was left alone. | “Still,” he said to himself, “Burt will | succeed. He always does. She's as stubborn a piece of womanhood as he’ll ever have to deal with. I’ve done all I could, and now I'll look over those plans again, for I mean to go out and try digging again to-night.” And while Kate was suffering an anguish that would forever leave its mark upon her life, her father soon forgot everything but the one object and ruling thought of his life—the thought and the hope of finding the buried treasure of some dead pri- vateer. CHAPTER XVII. The Detective Continues His Work. It had been easy enough for Henry Loud, the detective, to trace Vance Rothesay from the railroad station in Colton to a hotel in Boston. Vance had gone to the Tremont house and had taken a room, where he’ had re- mained a few hours to rest. Then one of the carriages belonging to the house had taken him to the Boston and Albany depot, and he had been heard to say the wished to take a cer- tain train to New York; the carriage had been ordered in time for that train. Here Loud’s information stopped ab- ruptly. It was very humiliating, but he absolutely could find no trace of Rothesay after the young man had alighted from the carriage and paid the driver at the entrance to that depot. Here let it be stated—and on this fact hung the strength of the evidence against Rothesay—that on - reaching the depot and after he had paid the driver just before he was going to ‘buy a ticket, he had remembered a lit- tle business he would like to transact i before leaving the city, and that mem- ory, had made him decide to postpone his departure until the next day. When he had performed his business he had gone to a small hotel near, instead of returning to the Tremont house. If ne had left the city that night, as he had intended! But who can fore- see and control these “ifs” of life? It was as if the earth had opened and swallowed him up. The detective stopped—baffled. In ‘vain he questioned the officials of the building. He could not learn any- thing that led him to believe that Rothesay had even bought a ticket for New York, or for any place. “If he had been meditating crime he ought to have done so, to have tried to lead to the belief that he had left the city. It is very curious,” reasoned the detective. And the difficulties were to him like the spur in the side of the spirited horse. The crime had not been committed until a number of days after Rothe- say’s ostensible departure. The young man had either left the city and re- turned, or had remained concealed, watching for the opportunity to do the deed. Thus thougth the officer, and was, of course, inclined to the latter. opinion. He came to Philadelphia and direct- ly to the address on Chestnut street, which he found to be the place of bus- iness of Mr. Lauriat. He asked for an interview, and found Charles Lauriat to be a brisk, upright- appearing man of some sixty years— a man with keen eyes and good judg- ment, not much given to any kind of sentiment. “Rothesay must have held a very good place in society and in the opin- ion of men,” thought Loud, remember- ing that this man was willing to give his daughter to Vance. (To be Continued.) - A Woman's Vow. “Think of it, my dear,” said Mr. Closefist, laying down his newspaper, “there are more than two thousand million dollars in circulation in this country!” “T sthat so?” replied his wife, cheer- fully. “Well, judging from the diffi- culty I alway sexperience in getting you to give me a quarter, I thought there Wasn’t more than three dollars and a half in the whole world.”—Com- fort. Novel Refreshments. Four-year-old Harold attended the birthday party of a playmate. At the party an entree of sweetbreads was served in little fancy paper cases. Harold very much enjoyed this dainty, and partook quite liberally of it. When he got home he said: “Mother, it was a lovely party, and they had hash in buckets.”—Little Chronicle. Adajio. A local band was one day playing at Dunfermline, when an old weaver came up and asked the bandmaster what air they were playing. That is ‘The Death of Nelson,’” re- plied the bandmaster, solemnly. “Ay, mon,” replied the weaver, “ye hae gi’en him an awfu’ death.”—Tit- Bits . i Usually the Case. “See how devotedly, how impassion- ately, how fondly Mrs. Smith gazes in- to her husband’s face? Isn’t it per- fectly charming?” ° “H’m! You're a little off. That isn’t Smith;/ that’s Jones. That's Smith, down in the corner holding Mrs. Jones’ hand.”—Baltimore News. Bravery and Cowardice. “What is the bravest thing you know of?” “Dust. It grittily flies in the face of | an army.” “And what is the most cowardly thing? “Errands. A small boy can run a dozen of them.”—Exchange. Only Car Fare. Proprietor (who has been loeking over the accounts)—Mr. Waddle, do; you ever take any money out of the cash drawer? | Salesman—I ocasionally take out an car fare. Proprietor—H’m, hm! Do you live in San Francisco or Sitka?—Boston | Transcript. Following the Leader. “Yes,” said the merchant who does not believe in advertising, “the coun- try is going to the devil.” “I thought as much when I read that placord in your window,” the solicitor answered. “Which placard?” “The one that says ‘We Lead, Oth- ers Follow.’ ”—Broklyn Eagle. Much Easier. “You say that young man is an as- | tronomer?” said young Mrs. Torkins. | “Yes, he can calculate the exact time that an eclipse is due.“ ; | “But what’s the use, Charlie, dear, when he can read the announcement in the paper?”—Washington Evening Star. Prospecting. Von Blumer—oD you mean to say you have been shopping all day and didn’t buy a thing? Mrs. Von Blumer—I haven’t been shopping ,I’xe only been reconnoiter- ing.—Brooklyn Life. - Made It Hot for Him. “I wonder,” said the new benedict, dreamily, “if there is anything warm- er than a woman’s love?” “Sure,” replied Oldbache; “two women’s love. I heard ofa bigamist once who found that out.”—Philadel- phia Press. Healthfully Occupied. | Good to choice steers, When Wesley was about three years old a friend who had not seen him for some time greeted him with: “Well, Wesley, what have you been doing since’I saw you last?” “Been growin’,” was the rather un- NEWS IN BRIEF. Overflow From the Wires in a Con- denced. Form. Joseph Parry, the musical composer and director of the South Wales school of music, died in London. The postoffice department issued orders establishing free delivery ser- vice at Livingston, Mont., and Rock- ford, Colo., beginning June 1. It is reported that , Hon. Edward Blake has been retained by the Do- minion government as counsel before the Alaska boundary commission. The foundry plant of Thomas Cay lin’s Soos company, Allegheny, Pa., was destroyed by fire. Loss, $200,000; partly covered by insurance. The fire was caused by a boiler explosion. Fire at Quebee destroyed La France's book bindery, Mercier’s printing office, George Belleau’s whole- sale dry goods store, the rooms of the Canadian Yacht club and the office of the Canadian Express company. Loss, $100,000. Arnold Greene, LL. D.,‘one of the most prominent lawyers in Rhode Island, and widely known as a scholar, died at Providence. He was a de- scendant of Gen. Nathaniel Greene of Revolutionary fame, and was a trustee of Brown university. He was'sixty- five years of age. THE MARKETS. Latest Quotations From Grain and Live Stock Centers. St. Paul, Feb. 18. — Wheat — No. 1 Northern, 76 1-4@76 3-4c; No. 2 North- ern, 741-2@75 3-4c. Corn—No. 3 yel- low, 40@4lc. Rye—No. 2, 47@48c. Barley — Malting, 50@53c. Flax — No. 1, $1.14. Oats—No. 3 whie, 33@ 33 3-4c. Minneapolis, Feb. 18.—Wheat — No. 1 hard, 781-4c; No. 1 Northern, 77 @ 771-4c; No. 2 Northern, 76 @ 76 1-4¢. Duluth, Feb. 18. — Wheat — No. 1 hard, 77 3-8c; No. 1 Northern, 76 3-8c; No. 2 Northern, 74 3-8c; No. 3 spring, 71 3-8c; oats, 35¢c; rye, 501-2c; barley, 35@5le; flax, $1.13 1-2. Milwaukee, Feb. 18. — Wheat — No. 1 Northern, 80c; No. 2 Northern, 783@ 781-2c. Rye steady; No. 1,°501-2@ 52c. Barley steady; No. 2, 64c; sample, 46@538c. Oats firm; standard, 36c. Corn—May, 45 3-8c. Chicago, Feb. 18. — Wheat — No. 2 red, 75@77c; No. 3 rec, 70@T5e; No. 2 hard winter, 72@74c; No. 3 hard win- ter, 70@73c; No. 1 Northern spring, 80 1-2@81c; No. 2 Northern spring, 79 @80c; No. 3 spring, 70@79ce. Corn— No. 2, 441-2@45c; No. 3, 43@43 1-2c. Oats—No. 2, 341-2c; No. 3, 33@34e. Sioux City, Iowa, Feb. 18.—Cattle— Beeves, $3.50 @ 5; cows, bulls and mixed, $1.50 @ 4; stockers and feed- ers, $2.75@4.30; calves and yearlings, $2.50@3.85. Hogs, $6.55@7.05; bulk, $6.70@6.85. Chicago, Feb. 18. — Cattle—Good tp prime steers, $4.40@5.50; stockers and feeders, $2.25@4.50; cows, $1.40@4.40; heifers, $2 @ 4.50; calves, $3.50 @ 8; Texas-fed steers, $3.50@4 Mixed and butchers, $6.75@7.15; good to choice heavy, $7.10 @ 7.30; light, $6.45@6.70; bulk of sales, $6.75@7. Sheep—Good to choice wethers, $4.75 @5.35; fair to choice mixed, $3.50 @ 4.75; Western sheep, $4.75@5.35; na- tive lambs, $4.75@6.60; Western lambs, $4.75@6.50. South St. Paul, Feb. 18. — Cattle — $4.50@5.50; good to choice cows and heifers, $3.25 @4; veals, $2.50@5.50; good to choice feeding steers, $3.75@4.25; steer calves, $2 @ 3; good to choice stock cows und heifers, $2.25@2.75. Hogs— Price range, $6.15@6.75; bulk, $6.20@ 6.55. Sheep—Good to choice fat lambs, $4.75@5.40; good to choice yearling wethers, $4.65@4.85; heavy, $4@4.50; good to choice ewes, medium weight, $3.50@3.90; heavyweights, $3.40@3.85. FOSTER IS CHOSEN. Will Present Case of United States in the Alaskan Boundary Dispute. Washington, Feb. 18—Ex-Secretary | of State John W. Foster has been se- lected to take charge of the case of the United States in the presentation of the Alaska boundary question to the special commission to be appointed in conformity with the terms of the re- cently confirmed Alaskan boundary treaty. Gen. Foster will be assisted | in this work by Mr. Lansing, his son- in-law, who also was connected with the investigation of the Alaskan seal issues. Secretary Root has concluded to accept his appointment as one of the commissioners to represent the United States on the boundary com- mission. Senators Lodge and Turner. WORST BLOCKADE OF WINTER. Passenger Trains in Wyoming Are Snowbound. Cheyenne, Wyo., Feb. 18. — The worst blockade of the winter was in force yesterday on the roads entering Cheyenne. A strong wind filled all cuts and trains have been unable to, move. Seven passenger trains and a number of freights are snowbound on Sherman hill, the Cheyenne & North- ern is blockaded between Cheyenne and Horse Creek, and the Denver Pa- cific is impassible between Cheyenne and Carr. Big Fire at Glenwood. Glenwood, Wis., Feb. 18. — Fire which originated from a defective chimney in the Hotel Commercial last evening destroyed nearly the en- tire block of business buildings on the north side of Oak street. The loss will aggregate about $25,000. Teddy to Congratulate. Rome, Feb. 18. — The Vatican has been unofficially informed that Presi- dent Roosevelt will congratulate the pope the twenty-fifth anniversary of his " ? b seFiv insta > 5. Hogs— | The other two members are | BACKS. Bad backs are found in every household. A bad back is a back that’s lame, weak or aching. Most backache pains come from kidney derange ments and should be promptly attend. ed to. Reach the cause of backache by re lieving the kidneys and curing their ills, Doan’s Kidney Pills are for the kidneys only and cure the dangers of urinary and bladder disorders, from common inflammation, to Dropsy, Diabetes, Bright’s disease. Case No 40,321—Mr. W. H. Ham mer, well-known builder, residing at 125 N. Hinde street, Washington C. H., Ohio, says: “I am glad to endorse @ remedy which possesses such inesti- mable value as Doan’s Kidney Pills. bladder which had caued me much an- noyance and anxiety because of the frequency and severity of the attacks. I have advised others to take Doan’s Kidney Pills and I know they will not be disappointed in the results.” A FREE TRIAL of this great kidney medicine which cured Mr. Hammer will be mailed on application to any part of the United States. Address Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y. For sale by all druggists. Price 50 cents per box. WAS A LITTLE DOUBTFUL. Man Wanted to Take Casket Home for His Wife. The veteran undertaker was dis- cussing some of his experiences with his young assistant. “When I was young in the business,” he said, “a drunken man came into he office about 9 o’clock. .He couldn’t walk straight, butt he was very loquacious. He lived in the country and wanted to take a casketyout with him for his wife, who had died the night before. I told him 1 needed the measurements of the body to give him a casket of the proper size. He pulled himself up with a great deal of dignity, grandly waved me off with his right hand and said thickly: “‘t made all measurements ‘fore 1 came down. I know measurements and I want a casket five foot ten or ten foot five, and I'll be jiggered if 1 know which.’ ’—New York Times. Lawyers’ Gift to Woman. On Thursday, Jan. 1, Miss Rena B. pointed a deputy prothonotary in Pensylvania, completed her three-year term. The Cumberland county bar presented her with a testimonial in the shape of a gold watch, chain and pfesentation address. The incoming prothonotary, Daniel Weary, will re- tain Miss Heikes as his deputy for the next three years.—Philadelphia Press. A Shopping Grafter. Mrs. Wiley Gigh tries on the $30 chiffon boa, “but she really cannot de- cide until dear Billy sees it,” so she has it sent up “on approval.” i Mrs. Wiley Gigh looks charming in the chiffon boa at the theater that night, but evidently dear Billy does not approve, because the boa comes back to the store next day.—Chicago Evening Post. | $100 Reward $100. ‘The readers of this paper will be pleased to learn that there is at least one dreaded disease that science has been able to cure in all its stages, and that is Catarrh. Hall's Catarrh Cure is the only positive cure now known to the medical fraternity. Catarrh being a constitue 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 foundation of the disease, and giving the patien ftrength by building up the constitution an@ assisting nature in doing its work. The pro~ prietors have so much faith in its curative powers that they offer One Hundred Dollars for @ny case that it fails tocure. Send for list of | Testimonials. Address F. J. CHENEY & CO., Toledo, @ | Soild by druggists 75c. - Hall's Family Pills are the best. How It May Be Done. “Do you think that it is really pos- |sible to support a family on $10 a week?” said the woman. with a worried look in her eye. | “Certainly,” answered’ the business- \like friend; “the experiment may be made quite remunerative if one only has the knack of writing magazine ar- ticles about it.”—Washington Star. ele ala ha ee A Flourishing Club. The guide was showing him the big |trees. “This one,” he said, “is sup- | posed to be about two thousand years. | old.” “What a twentieth century club it would make!” commented the profes- sor.—Chicago Tribune. Stops the Gough and | Works Off the Cold | Laxative Bromo Quinine Tablets. Price 2a. } Ready to Begin Studying. “Mamma,” said Reginald, “we had history to-day and the teacher said we should study the Greeks.” “Then do so, my son,” encourased mamma. “Well, mamma, the nearest Greekr keep a candy stall, and if you'll give me a dime I'll go around and stu+y them.”—Chicago News. Dumb Ones. Silas Hayseed (at city hotel)--Man- dy, look thet ‘ere sign, “Ring twicet fer hot warter!” Mandy Hayseed—Well, what on it, Si? Silas—Don’t them durn foo!s down thet yer want it?—Harvard Lampoon. Fear of being an old maid induces many a girl to choose the wrong hus- band. Winsiew’s Svothing Syrup. , softens the cums. redacer: Ms cures wind colic. 23¢ a bottle Mediocrity can talk; but it is for gi ‘aius to observe.—Disraeli. ; Heikes, the first of her sex ever ap- - They cured me of inflammation of the . stairs know when yer ring fer it oncet _