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â- â- Â»' By Virtue of Merit II SALADA" T88 la tbe outstAndlnii leader In Canaida. IDDUâ€" SMART FROCK RBGISTERING PARIS INFl.UENCE. A new fio<k of chic simplicity, suit- able for both strest and aftarnoon wear, and developed in l)ack crape eatiii with loiijf t;;' and 'ower slesve section of contrasting co'.or georffett?. There arc palhfra at each shouider whore the ba;'k comes over to join tho front in yok^ effect. The lower edg* of the bodice front is jfrucefully curv- ed and joji'.id to a two-piece t;kirt flar- ed at the lower edge. Tho two-piece Bieeve^ are a new fjv.-h'on note and may be gathered in<o a n^irrow wrist- band, or left iocio and sleshed at the back. No. 13r)l is ii; .eii«s 80, :i8. 40, 42. 44 and 40 intlhes busl. Size 38 requires 3% yards SS-inc-Ti mateiiol, â- md % jnrd con'trasting for tie ajvd Ble«v«<>. 20 cents. Our F.ashi>'i Book, illustrating the ne^vewt an^ most practical styles, will be of intert:"t to every home dre."i8- maker Pr;c# of the book 10 cents the copy. HOW TO ORDER PATTERNS. Write your name and address plain- ly, giving number and size of such pattern.s as you .vant. Enclose 20c In stamps or coin (coin preferred; wrap It carefully) for ©acli number and address your order to Patten. Dept., Wilton Publishing Co.. 7M West Ade- laide St., Toronto. Patterns sent by rtturn mail. Playing the Game. The ancient a4a«;e about tauneaty belns tfae best policy was probably first uttered by aome old ro(uu with his tongue In his cheek! It Is creatly improved in Its parody form: "Honeety la the best police- man." Certainly the typo of honeety which has no deeper root than the canuy sanse of Its expediency is only a poor thing. Many letters come to my office from young people in business houses and offices, telling uie of trade tricks which glvo them a lurking and uncomfort- able Buspiclcn that, even If they are not poKltlvely dishonest, they are at least hardly consistent with their own ideas of "playing the game." Personally, I do not see why anyone who has been accustomed, at home and at school, to regard anything that Isn't straight as crooked, anything which Is not above-board as underhand, and anything which Is not quite right as quite wrong, should require to write to me on an Issue so simple. I am not concerned to Inquire wheth- er honesty is the beet policy or the worst, because If it is a policy at all It Is not honest, and If It Is honesty It knows nothing of policy. \ATiere de- irent people are concernml, honesty luid policy are never associated, but only honesty and principle. The moment I begin to wonder whether it will pay me to be an honest man or a crook, I am already a crook, even though I may never get to wind- ward of the law. For the truly honest man there Is 6iily one way to take, and that's the right one. He never thinks to debate with himself the pros and cons of tak- ing the wrong one. He decides on prin- ciple and not on expediency. Benjamin Franklin bad a saying, drawu from some sad experience of his boyhood, that It was possible to "pay too murJi for your whistle." You want that whistle; you want It badly: you covet It wRh every fibre of your being- but the price! "There's the rub!" If the price of «o-caHed sucoess Is a scarred con.'iclence. a hardened heart. [u sullied sensibility, a cynical attitude to the things mankind has labelled "worthy," and a tolerant one to thoee marked "rotten," then success Is dear- I ly bought. There's nothing worth It. The revisers of the New Testament made a notable change In a well-known ' pasKage. It now i-eads: "What shall It profit a man if he gain the whole world and XorX^r- his life?' People used to think It referred to some future state. It doosn'S. It means: How \ much hcnelit does a man really get by 1 8woppln,i{ principle for cash, or any- thing thhl cash represents which to jhim seems "the whole world"? iIjBkI. largest, there's one law for all the minds. Here or above; be true nl any price! says Hrowning; and In another place: I "Well, now; there's nothing In nor out <i' the world good except truth. When we come to real values who will say "No" to that: Arranged in a straight line, tha railwayn of the world would reiuh to tho moor, and back again 477,(336 miles. There's a Treat Cor you and your children in die Peppernunt cugar jacket â- nd another In the Pepper- Baint-fla\'ored gum inside. Utmost value in loni; l'a'8-^i'n<•g delight. IM HERE TELL YOU THEY'RE GOOD Mountain A«h. Bcurlei berries shine upon the trees through the August haze hovering! over the northwestern city which nest-' \e» iinild the sturdy evergreens. They are like small red balls on u Christmas I tref. Tho aniber berries of the moun- ! tain uhIi have been turned by the, swiftly advancing seHson Into crimson' clusters that hnag over the- boulevard. It was .luly when the berries were palii ' and wan, small and yellow, but the : ripening Augii»t days have given the I fnilt the rich shades of the red apple. I A If'iify filagree waves around the berries us the green robe of the tree quIvoTH In the breeze that strays Into the tranquil evening scene and touch- es the niliy JoweU. Houses that border along the boule- vard sre screened by the serried rank of the iish trees that form a lane Into the cliy. A few of the ruby Jnwnls of the trees hiive fallen from their setting upon the Ki'u\ walk. Aa till! iwlllRhl deepi ns In the per- v.uling AuRiisi lui/.e. and the huulo- ' vard d.nrkiniH, the row of aeli trees Is! faintly etched against the wi-stern sky. | Off III the deep, inauvij vslley the! vividly red nun fioali* in the misl. It Is II silken sllliouettu In crimson. It I Is a toy biilliion strayed from the h.and ' of a bahy gianr imd sinking behind the lips of the purpling mountains that hover over the mountain ash. But It is also In the dusk an Inflated scarlet heny tossed lt:to the «ky from tha niouninlii ash trees. BEGIN HERE rO-DAY. Tha marriage of Dolly and Nigel »r«therton proves an unhappy one. Whan war Is declared Nigel is glad to atiiist. He leaves Dolly under the care of Mary Furnival. Nigel is killed and Dolly marries an old sweetheart, Rob- art Durham. Dolly and Robert sail for America and word comes of the sinking of their ship. When Nigel's brothec, David, calls to see Nigel's widow, Mary is ashamed to tell him of Dolly's niar- riage. David mistakes Mary for his brother's wife and asks her to come to live at Red Grange with him and his aunt. A letter comes to Mary from Dolly saying that she and her husband *re •afe. Monty Fisiher tei'.B David that Mary is not Nige-'-'e widow. David says he had already found that oat. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY. "You don't despise ntie, then? I â€" I thought â€" " She covered her face with her hands. Monty looked away from her bowed head. He would have given a great deal in that moment to have been able to recall those impulsively spoken words to David Bretbcrton. He was alowJy beginning to realize what It was in thda woman, who wae not really beautiful, and not in the least sm^rt, thiit had so endeared her to this quiet household. There wae something so womanly cbout her, something â€" He could not define his feelings. Impulsively he held out his hand. "If ever I can be of use to you 1 hope you will ask me." Mary laid her tremb'ing fingers ir his. "Yo'j erre'^very kin-l,' she said, then turned precipitately and ran from the room. This was her last night at th.» liod Granjre. Already she had put topeLlitv the few things she had brought with her, and packed them in a bag that bore Nigel Bretherton's initials. It was one of his many possessions which Dolly had left behind her. She had cared nothing for the man; now he was gone she cared nothing for anything that had been his. Mary sat down at the little writing table which Misa Vamey had had placed In the room for her. She took Dolly's letter from a locked drawer and spread it out before her. It was strange, she thought, that Dolly's letter and Monty Fisher should have come so near together. It had been wonderful that she had been left so Ions; undiscovered. And any day now David might hear from Dolly. Mary knew Nigel's widow very well, knew that money_ was everything in tha world to her, that she would leave no stone unturned to get anything she could from David. Hor on'ly hope lay now in fiight, to get away and leave no trace behind her. She had meant to vj-rite to Dolly, but tha dinner gong rang before slie had written more than a coupl* of lines, and she thrust the letter has- tily away. Every detail of that last dinner was stamped indelibly on her brainâ€" the long, beautiful room, the shining sil- ver and wonderful gla«s, the paneled wall'* and gleaming armor, and David, the last of nil the Bi^ethertons, sitting ailent and abstracted at the head of the t«ble. The desultory conversation was car- ried on by Miss Vamey and Fisher. Mary hard'y spoke, and scarcely touched the tempting dishes set be- fore her; she felt as if every mouth- ful would choke her. She wondered that the emotion of he^r aching heart was not clearly stamped' in her face. She was beginning to understand now as never before why Nigel had so hated the ordinary suburban lif« he had been forced to lead since his mar- riage. She could Rympathize now with the way his face had always lit up at rrvenUon of the Red Grange. She, who had been there but a few weeks, loved it already. How much more, then, must ho have cared who had lived there sill his life? "Why do you hesitat/i?" he asked. There was a sharp inquiry in his voice His eye.'i sought here inaist^ ently. She roused hersalf with an effort; she was afraid that he might suspect something from her manner. She ans- wered quickly: "I vdll come; yea, of course I will come. I should tike to." She ran back for her hat and coat. When ehe came again down the stairs David was still standing where «h« had left him. There was something in his manner that gave her a little qualm of fear. When the car came to the door he turned to Fisher. "You won't mind the back seat, Monty? It's rather cold for a lady." Mary protested she preferred the back seat; she did not mind the night air in the least. "You don't know how to take care of youTseJf," David said, srolUng. He wrapped the rug carefully round her knees. Even after they had start- ed lie put out his hand once through the darkneas to see if ahe was well covered. "It is not summer yet, you know," he told her when she declared that fl»va was quite warm. There was a crescent m.oon in tha sky. It peeped down at them «hyly through the dark branchee of the tall trees; it shed a faintly silvered Mght over the freshly plowed fields and whke country roads. David hardly spoke. Once or twice he half turned to address a remark to Fisher, but for the most part they •were all silent. When the station was reached the two men got out. David looked at Mary. "Won't you come and see the la«t of him?" he asked lightly. "It vrill do you good to have a little stretch." Mary obeyed at once; it never oc- curred to her that David had no in itention of leaving her alone for a moment. She never doubted that Fisher had spoken truthfully when he No Boiling â€" No Rubbing Just Rinse with Rinso A package of Rinso is a package of miniature soap bubbles. You simply dissolve for 25 seconcls the tiny bubbles in hot water, soak the clothes a couple of hours, or ovetw night, rinse them'well in clean water and â€" that's all. Result â€" clean, sweet-smelling clothes, hours of time saved and the hand work changed to just rinsing. Rinso dissolves the dirt, you rinse it out. You will never know how eas^r it is to do the washing imtil you've used Rinso, the greatest time and labour saver the housewife has ever known. I "'1 R-457 iMnso SI ^P Made t>y the makers of Lux ') WRIGLEV'S aid* digestion and make* the next cigar tasta lielter. Try it. CGS8 'aftik every meal If'^UE No. 37â€" '20. A Real Holiday. Johnny was packing bis tiag to go camiiing when bis mother came in. ^â- 'Why, Johnny," tha said, "you hsTon't i.'.it :n any soap!" "Aw, flihlles treks!" said the boy, 'tve'ro goiiig for a holiday!" i Minard's LInlmant fo.- bruleea. CHAPTER XUII. FOB TUB I..\8T TIME. Instead ot following Miss Varney to the drawing-room she slipped awayj upstairs. Tears blinded her eye.s aa j r,he went. This was the last evening, shi would ever sjM'nd in the old house. | This was the shutting < tAho door upon ' hi-r brief glimpse of Paradise. j It was only Just after eight. She knew that it would be useless to at-' tempt u> l^ave the house for another' two houra, but she ftnlched h.-r small preparations, bathed th? t.^nrs from hrr oyea, nnd wont dxvwiislsiis ngaln. David met her at tho fcot of the stairs. "I am going to drive Fisher to the station. Will you come with m» " She fluslied up to her eyes. 8l>e knew that it would be wiser to refuse, that David's nbsenoo would give her the opportunity she wanted to 'jeave the hoose unnoticed. But the tempta- tion to RIO with him was great. It was a lovely night. She could picttiTO the long drive to the ftation through live silent country lane.i, the drive back, wlwn »tw would be with him ak>n«. i "Won't you come and see the Last of him?" he asked. said that he had told David nothing. She stood l>eside him while Fisher bade him good-bye. Fisher held her hand a little longer than was strictly necessary, rhe thought. There was a hidd?n mean- ing in his voice for her when he said: "I shall hope to see you In town before long." David was frowning when they re- turned to the car. She saw his face for an inRtant in the glare of tha headlights. "Do you know Fisher very well?" ho asked abruptly, as he took hi.i seat beside hei. She shook hor haad. "No. Iâ€"" She broke off; she had been going to say that she had only seen him once l-e.'ore in all her life, but stopped; she knew that Dolly had seen him many times. "No, not very well," she added. In a low voice. David was driving the oar very »>owly; he looked down at her, turn- ing hla whole body a little towards her. "What Is the matter with you to- day?" "What do you mean?" "Only that you seem changed, some^ how. Don't you like Fisher any better than you liked his sister?" She protested indignantly. "I suppo.ie you will never forget that And I d-.i like Mr. Fisher; I think he is v-ry iiici-." "I am glad." 'fh;'r,-> w.;s something dry ill l">avid'a vcloe; he did not speak again for some minirtes, then: "So you ore going to stay with them in I/ondon after all?" CHAPTER XLIV. MARY 18 AtlUin. "I never tliought of such a thing," said Mary. "I told you Wfore that I cannot bear staying with strange people." "Did you feel like that when you cante Ivere?" "No, of courss! not! At least â€" " She tried to take i>ack the eager, em- phatic denial, but iTaiize.1 that it was too lat<». "You wore difTeren.." sh? added he',p'efi<«ly. "yo-.i and .Miss Va*-- ney." "TItank you," said David softly. Mary bit her lip. She had tried so hard not to remember that thia was the iaet time she would over drive like this with David ; she bad tried to forget that this was the last chapter of her stolen happiness, but something in his voice, in his manner, brought it home to her with suffocating force. She k>ved him. She toved his voice, his laugh, hia grave eyes; she loved everything about him; and yet â€" yet she had wilfully deceived him, wilfully Med to him. If she only dared to tell him! In aching imagination she coitld see her- .â- Â»lif turning to him, hear herself sp aking the sobbing confession ; but In reality she sat there, her hands clasped convulsively together beneath the warm rug, grudging each flying moment, each last word. AVhen they neared the Red Grange she spoke: "Need we go home just yet? It is 6uch a lovely night, I don't want to go home just yet." "It is quite early. We will go round the other way." His voice was quite e\-en ; she did not see the sh'urp look he cast at her as h'-- bent towards the wheel. She leaned back beside him with a little sigh of happiness. David spoke suddenly. "What ar» yon thinking about?" She started. "Nothing. At least, I don't know." He turned the car round into a nar- row mde road. (To be continued.) • Dusk in the Redwoods. The sky Is lilac, the sky Is rose; \ Painter and fainter the redwoe^ glows; The winds would be still; ( I^e dove Is calUng, The dusk la falUng, , > On the yellow bill. ' ^ Lullaby, lullaby, clucks the quail; . Faater and faster the colors fall ; ' The wlnda grow still. *, The dove, is he calling? , "na the soft dusk falling On the purple hill. ^ Lost is the lilac, lost the rose. In the shadow the rabbit knows; The winds are still; • The dove is dreaming, The love-star gleaming Over the darkonei hill. â€" John Vance Cheney, In "At the SIV- ver Gate." For Hawks to See. S John put a scarecrow In the yard And used my clothes â€" jHe found some old, worn, shabby shoes I I That pinched my toee-~ Ha took the hat bo broad of brim FVom off my head-- And put It on that scarecrow thing. Then shot It dead! Now, every time 1 glance outside I seem to be A shabby, old fat farmer's wife For hawks to see! i Dorothy Moor«.i Minard's Liniment for toothache. Lubrication la Esaential. Never neglect olUng and greaginc certain parts of the engino because ot their Inaeoesslble locatloi. •^ I CONNOR POWER WASHER MODEL 26 SOLVES THE WASH DAY PROBLEM on the farm. Belt h to any small gasoline engine. We sell you this machine on the conditicm that it must satisfy you. 1. IT MUST SATISFY you on its capacity to wash the finest clothing without Injury. 2. IT MUST SATISFY you on Its capacity to wash the dirtiest clothes ^ absolutely clean. IT MUST SATISFY you on Its Improved aluminum agi- tator that forces the aoapy water through the clothes. IT MUST SATISFY you on its elimination of baud rub- bing. «. IT MUST SATISFY ycu on lu large four position wringer that will wring from the rins- ing or blueing tub while the machine la doing the washing. 6. IT MUST SATISFY you on Us ijfilet, smooth running. 7. IT MUST SATISFY yon in evsrything you eipect In a Power Washer. If it does not, return It to us at our expense and we will refund ycu the purchase price, $70.00. If your dealer does not sell this machine, order direct from us. J. H. CONNOR & SON, UMITED Manufaeturers Ottawa (Order Yours Now) Ontario ^J > '^-^''