i A NIGHT lN AUSTIN FRIARS k. CHAPTER l. The gray fog that had sailed up the l Thames at sunrise. favoured by windl and tide. had come to anchor over Lon- i don. and evidently meant to stay. lt‘ had gradually transformed itself into a {3ng mass: During that wintry dayrâ€"ih the City at leastâ€"time had got out of joint. ’Ihe great. thoroughfares had become hopelessly congested with heavy traffic. The mails from the country and abroad were considerably delayed. Travellers who had journey- ed a thousalnd miles by land and seaâ€" who calculated to reach their destinaâ€" tion atia fixed dateâ€"began to peer out of carriage windows in consternation and blank despair. To many it was a serious matter; to some it was even a. matter of life and death. The royal mail from Dover to Lon- don was hours overdue. Among the first-class Ivtssengers by this train was a young traveller in a. fur coat. who satin a corner of his carriage im- l patiently consulting his watch. There? was a small black vaiise on the seatl at. his side, and it seemed obvious that i this valiseâ€"or, more strictly speaking. its hidden, mntentssâ€"occupied his alâ€"‘ most!) undivided thoughts. His look! seldom rested a. moment elsewhere. If tbq valise. had been possessed of the power or will to escape him. he could not, have kept upon it a. keener guard; and when the train at last reached London Bridge.( and the traveller step- ped into a cab. he grasped the handle of his valise with nervous tension. while in answer to the cabman's stereo- typed inquiry, "Where to, sir i" he cal- led: out i) "Austin Friars." lA'b the arched entrance to Austin Friars be dismissed his cab. A few paces and he found, himself In an open square. There were mansions on all sides with a distinct look about them of bygone days. "Ah! that should be the house," hel muttered while approaching a. big cor-I 'ner mansion. "Bad l-uckl it's past of- fice hours. But. mightn’t I find Mr. Grinold still at his desk ’5" , The house had stone steps, with iron I railings that led up on either side toi a pair of massive oak doors. These doors shared in common the shelter of m heavy shell~sha ed canopy that frowned overhead. Inder this canOpy there was a gas-lamp; it brightened a limited circle‘ of space, giving a. look of intensity to the fog beyond. The. traveller mounted these steps and stop~ ped under the lamp. He took a card from his pocket ook. Upon the card was, written, "‘ r. Gilbert: Ringham,l Briti: and Cairo Ban ." He now glanced with some rp exlty at the - two entrances. for t ere was a broadl panel between them, upon which wasl inscribed 13a. lb was the address toI which he had been: directed. without a l doubtâ€"18a Austin Friars. But whichl of the two houses claimed this number? Gibbon-U iRtthï¬huu' bent down be ex- amine more closely the twin doors. 1 Upon the left-hand one he discovered ; nothing. but upon the right-hand door 1 he made out "Anthony Grinold" in; faded letters. He was about to raise'i the knooker. when he. noticed that. the 3 door stood slightly ajar. "Good luck!" ~ said he. The office was not yet closed, and pushing open the door. which tn- stantly yielded to his touch. he stepped into the hall. It. was broad and lofty, . and the carved-oak panelling was black l with age. ll'flicvrc) were a number of“ doors. as he could just perceive in the , dim light. but. they were all locked.l Ringhwm mounted to the first floor: he ; mot. with the same expericlnce. Mr.‘ Grinold's counting-house was closed for the day. He had arrived too late. lilbort Ringliam stood at the stair- case window. that looked out. upon the square. to consider what would be the - best course to pursue in order to find , Mr. Grinold with the least possible de- lay. He had. come in all haste from Cairo upon an errand that demandedi shrewdness and tack... He took the letter of recommendation from hisi pocket. it was addressed to "Mr. A n-} l thony (lrinold. 13a Austin l"riars;" and Ringhum had been instructed to deliv- er it to that gentleman. He was to boldl no commlulnicalion \s‘hatever oni the subject of his errand will) any; other pore-on! or persons. “flint had; been impressed upon him_ with due emphasis. Would it. be feasnblc to see: Mr. Grinold to-nigbt! ile put. his valâ€" ise upon the deep window-sill and sat down. Where did Mr. (lrinold live‘f He had not the rcutolest conception.‘ lie would go forth and take. everyi means in his power to ascertain. He must find him to~night. . . . * Scizing the valise and rising hastily, Ilinghatn was about to descend-the, stairs. when he heard a quick. light, footfall upon the stone steps oulsule.; immediately l‘enoalh the window at! which be was standing. Next moment} the front. door was pulled to with a. loud bang. and the key grated in the lock. A full manin of the mishap was instantly realized. lie sprang to tho window and tried to forcc. it open : but the frmnework was old. the bolt rusty j and immm able. llc peered eagerly outi into the fog and listened for the footâ€"l fall on the steps. But no one come ing sight. no sound reached his car. l The canopy that hung over the twin I doors was some fem below this stair- case window. (‘huld the wrson who had locked him in be still standing unâ€" der it? Ringhrnn had raised his band to tap on the window-paneâ€"to break it if need leâ€"wbpn a girl ina dark cloak and fur-trimmed hat. stepped from under the great shell. For an inqtunt she raised her face so that the light fell fully upon it as from a shaded lmnp. and then slli‘ turned nimbly on‘ her heels. and was gone. During {it‘ll murmur of chance Ring- bam lest his head. Instead of tapping It the window to attract the girl's at- tentionâ€"much less breaking the pane -â€"h had stared out in pure, wonder and aura-m. What a vision! Did the. eyes of me). our lcforc rest upon any thing [except to Mr. Grinold' in person. 'undrawn. it rested in the socket, preâ€" ‘momcnt in which to make an exit. l BY T. S. E. HAKE. ‘3 more beautiful. anywhere-least: of all i U1 8 foggy old City square? , It mnsb‘ have been mere fancyâ€"an hallucinaâ€" tionâ€"or possibly a spirit of the mist that had haunted this spot. in these 1011813. marshland days of centuriesl gone by. before even the Augustine: friars came to dwell there. . 3 Meanwhile the staircase had becom l. quite dark. Not. only had the fog clos- : ed in about Austin l-‘riars; it was highb- Gilberb Ringham struck a match. and went down into the hall to make sure that he was actually lork- , ed in. .All doubt. was quickly set utl rest; no exit by the frontâ€"door was} bossible. He rcascended the stairs with . the, thought; 10 explore the uppcri floors. The rooms consisted of attics.‘ as he soon ascertained; and all of the doors of these attics were locked. But aim one of the doors he found a key.l 1 He hastened to turn this key, though a- rod of iron not. without! a‘oertuin sense of trepida- g hour after so many disappointments. i The door opened noiselessly, and he; went into the room. i Striking another matchâ€"he had al-i ready nearly exhausted his supplyâ€"- Ringham made out this room to be a. moderate-sized carrot. It was furnish- ed as a. sort. of private office or study. A thick. though somewhat threadbare. Turkey rug covered the centre of the ' linOl'. A heavy old-fashioned burenui stood against the wall, opposite the: garret. window. 0m either side of at diminutive fireplace there was a. cul- board. and Ringham expended a match on each of these in order to examine them minutely. The locks were turnae ed in both of them, the keys gone, and the key- oles blocked with dust and cobwebsg A capacitoiu‘s armâ€"chair was drawn up‘ near the empty hearth. That chair! should. be his resting~place for the night. He bolted the door. Then. having contrived to unlock his valise in the darkness, he spread it open up- on the rug. And now he lighted the' last; match. The dim flame lit up for a. moment the contents of. his valise. The space on one side was filled up with . a bundle of foreign bonds. while .the' other side held a few necessary articles I of clothing, a. sandwich-box. flask of brandy. The. matchâ€"light struggled feebly and went! out. Brougham. groped his way tothe arm-chair. having secured the] sandwich-box and brandy, and sat} down lusignedly' to consume his frugal supper. At. first he fumed considerably over tlho situation; but presently, becom- ing restful and refreshed. he began to. take a. more philosophical view of things. When entrusted with this pur~. eel of foreign bondsâ€"valued at thirty thousand poundsâ€"he had been ordered to let out no hint that he held them. Had he not acted with intuitive wisdoml and foresight after all? By shouting down to the girl under the lamp to. l come back and release him, he would have incurred a needless risk. Had she taken alarm and ro‘uSed the neigh- bourhood, the truth about his confiden- tiall business with ’Anthony Grinold might have leaked out. With this con- soling reflection Gilbert Ringham butâ€" toned his fur coat tightly about him, I and presently dropped off into a sound sleep. , The red dawn that looked in at the garretj window next morning forced Ringham by slow degrees to open his eyes. For one hazy moment, while blinking at the light, he had no oon- eeption of his whereabouts; and then it all came back to him; the closing of I the doorâ€"the lovely vision under the lamp in the old squa reâ€"the responsible ' errand upon which he had come to the house of Grinold of Austin Friars. He a rose in haste. glancing round the gar- l rot, curious to inspect it: more closely i by daylight. Of a sudden his eyes rest- ed upon the valise lying agapc upon Itho floor. as he had left it when his ' last. match‘ went out. A ray of sunlight was pointing directly down upon it. i'l‘hc space. on one side was empty. The ; foreign bonds had disappeared. ltingh'tm’s consternation increased to . the triumphâ€"Inos‘. \vmucn would, have‘ out it." he answers, laughing. seeing a sense of horror when he came to exâ€" amine the garret door. The bolt. was; t ciscly ais he had adjusted it before un- locking his valise. How could the rob- ‘ bery have been achieved? No possible clue to the mystery presented itsclf! to his ' distracted mind. allo made cl = thorough inspection of the room. with- l out any reassuring result. The walls? were whitewashed and bare and thel floorng was too smooth and securely nailed down To awaken sutspicion of. trap-doors. The window was festooned with cobwebs and the dust and cobwebs ! about the lacks of the cupboard doors l = showed no sign of having bevn disturb- ed. Ringiicun gave up the search in pure bewilderment. He went out upon the stairs: ‘llliere was Some one-.moving about. on one of the floors below. for he could bear the thumping and skirmo = ishing of: a broom. it was an opportune While at. the head of the staircase, iis- l toning. the. bells of the neighbouring. cluuch clocks caught his ear; and in the midst of these minor sounds that y echoed clearly over the still noiseless} City. lhcrc boomed forth the great bell of St. Paul's. “Seven l" of breed. the bakers of Berlin put each and a : best of his way after her, determin- lon your part. only 'l†with a meaning ____._ _-...___.- .._.._-___ .__._. HOW SHE WON. CHAPTER XLâ€"Continued. When dressed that night for the bail, she looks very unlike a. village maid.- on who would be overwhelmed by the condescension of any Lord of .Burleigh however, lofty his station, or who would pine av. ay. - mNeath the burden of an honor. Unto which she “"25 not. born." She wears the famous Leigh sill)- phtres, and hcr rich satin robe is of the same deep hue, chastened by drap- eries of fine white lace caught up “5' natural flowers. Her hair is braided high up behind her coronet. and her neck and arms are gleaming with 38“" els. She looks like a. queen- in her own right. Any man might. be proud to Wm her love, or even her band. The duhass comes forward to meet her with outstretched hands.and,stool)- Ing, kisses her solemnly on the brow. To the onlookers it is as though aseal has been set. upon her, that. from this time she is received into the‘bosum of that august family which for cen- turiespast has ruled the country with To Lady Leigh the demonstration is eminently distasteful, and she shrinks a._\vay from the caress with an impa- tient movement of disdain. “Dancing has not commenced," says the duchess. graciously; "we have only waited for you." "You are very good.†Guessing nothing from the coldness of the reply or thinking. perhaps that it; arises from the dignity and non- chalance which she has so often admir- ed as signs of her ï¬avorite’s high breeding, and good taste. her grace goes on unsuspiciously "I believe my son is wishing to en- gage you for this dance. I hope he will not be disappointed.†Lady Leigh’s next; words admit of no mistake. "i shall be very happy to dance with Lord Downe later on inthe evening; at present I dare say he has older and more important friends to engage his time, and l snail sit out the first: few dances." ‘ The Duchess of Downshire is dum- founded, and follows Lady Leigh’s re- treating figure with angry amazed eyes. Her son, with his vision some- what cleared to the truth, makes the ing to put his fate ,to the test at once. "Did you mean more than you said just now i†he asks, anxiously, as he reaches her side, lowering his voice so that others may not hear. "i meant. all I said,†she answers, im ressively. " scarcely understand.†"Will you force me to explain f†"i should not like fto lose what I am so wishful to win for the want of a fewl plain words." > I He might guess jfrom her mannerl that there is «no'hqp‘e: but until now evâ€"l erything has combined to prove to him? that he is invincible,,and he cannot learn a. contrary lesson all at once. His plain face becomes excited into, positive good looks at. this prospect ofl being thwarted. it is the newest senâ€"i sation she could have provided for him.l "If I had danced the first dance with you, Lord Downe, it would, in the cir- cumstances, have been construed into an acceptance of your addresses. it- would have been unfair to let you for a moment suppose that such a. thing might come to pass." Her face is a pained crimson as she Speaks, and his tones are as low and as earnest. as h’er own whcn, after a. short pause. he answers her again. "And your decision is final 1?†“Quite.†' Then seeing that it; is his pride. not his heart, that is hurt, she adds, kind- ly‘i "Do not trouble about it; it will all come right, andno one knows what has passed between us. Do not blame me for the publicity. i only. heard lhel rumor to-night for the first time. Let; it. rest, now, and people will forget.m “i shall not forget. I shall remem- ber your goodness always. Do you think 1 do not. see how generously you have acted in sparing me the pain of making a proposal only to ‘be reject- edx? Most women would have enjoycd accepted me, whether lo’ving Vine, or: not.†i "Do you think so ill of us, indeed, we; do not deserve it‘l" ' "Then the bitterness is. pcrmissable smile. A beautiful blush suffuses her face. . “l have forcsworn my unphilan-l tbropic tenets. i do believe in lhel goodness of mcn at. last." "Happy man who has taught you! faith!" he says, gallantly. and. with; a low bow, moves away. . g The ball goes on, and it is at ilsl height. when Colonel Uarc cub-rs the‘ room with Mr. Meade. "They arc nice rooms for dancing: itl is a; pity they are so seldom us'od,†says! Colonel Dare. looking round him, "They would not be open now “ere. ii not for Lady Leigh." , "Why is that? How do you meant"; sharply. ' ? "She is trothal. I believe. of German extraction, and wage vows." ____._ .____._-.__-.-. .m... .__..._ h.-- ._.‘._._-._.__h. ,erson." says Mr. Meade, impulsively. an". scarcely knowing what. he does, Colonel .Dare nods compliance. :‘Lady Leigh. may I introduce a friend to yourâ€"Colonel Dare." She turns pale, but. is too proud to show naign of the confusion. feels. He; compasurc is perfect and her man- ner that of a lady “ho stes a strang- er for the first. time. "Alay l have the honor of this next (183.189 f ' Colonel Dare speaks so humbly that she is disarmed and murmurs an as- sent. in another moment. they are passing on together. her hand rcst- mg ugbtly on his arm. leaving the Heathen Chinee chuckling. "Lady Leigh, Ibelieve l have to con‘ gratutate you. Is it not so i" ‘ (In what, Colonel Dare '1‘“ "'On your engagement to Lord Do“ De, Xou naxe my sincere hopes for yolfl‘ happiness.†"Thanks for the good wishes; they are always acceptable. But the conjecture is a false oneâ€"i am not, nor never MUST BE TREATED IN TIME 0R ENDS IN CERTAIN DEATH. “ Some of the symptoms are minimum: Aner susht Bxcrilon. Sometimes Severe Pains. [Millie‘s and Painting Spellsâ€"It (up Ito Cured. From the Echo l’iuitsviile, Out. The Echo 11th read and has published many statements from people who have been cured of variousnilments by the timely and judicious use of Dr. Williams' Pink Pills for Pale People. but never before have we had such personally convincing proof of thou efficacy as in the case of Mrs. George Taylor, who \ï¬th her husband and family reside in this village. To an Echo reporter Mrs. Taylor gave the following history of her illness and cure, and asked that it be. given the shall be, out."de g to marry Lord widest publicity. so that others might Downe.†‘ be benefited: “l mu thirty-two years “Ah!†of age," said Mrs. Taylor. "and In 1885 my'h-weband and myself were living on. a. farm in Perth county, and it was there [was first taken sick. The doc- tor who was called in said 1 was suffer- ing from heart trouble, due to norâ€" yous debility. All his remedies proved of no avail,and Istcadily grew worse. The doctor advised a. change, and we moved to Monctou, Out. Here i put myself under the charge of an- other physician, but. with no better re- sults. At the lcast exertion my bcurt would palpitatc violently. I was fre- qucntly overcome with dizziness and fainting fits. \Vhilo in those my limbs would become cold and of ten my husband thought I was dying. I tried several medicines advertised to cure troubles like mine, but with no better results, and I did not. expect to recover. in fact I often thought it would be better if the end came. fon my life was-one ofmisery. We moved back to the farm. andthen one day-F read the statement ofalady who had been cured of similar troubles by the use of Dr. \\'illiauns' Il’ink] Pillsldsot 13 n . )9 Said to my husband ttat. wou ry 1y}. 1’ FOO’ “ as so “PM? to blame' this medicine and it seemed tome that h ,Youhiu‘Ved my b0) 3 “1:9‘ You. munst it was my last chance. Before the first t9?†t ought, m.“ “ mflnbwr "I “13Ҡbox \vasfinishcdffelt nnimprovomcnt ‘Eui‘e- 10 1013Ԡ,tha't'. . in my appetite and felt that this was a .1011 know We“ Wm“ 1 thought" and hopeful sign. By the time I had used think sunâ€"“mt Lad-l Let‘s“ “5 ‘he three boxes more my trouble seemed most Dene“ woman t" ‘Vhwh the world tobe entirely gonc,and1have not felt can lay chum", he answers! S‘mply' asingle recurrence of the old sympâ€" Ho has led her into an empty con- toms. Since moving to Pluttsvme I SEF’Ezi'tiry' “beredth†fl‘f‘vel‘sh‘t‘refl‘m: have used twodxoxcsandthcy had the (lilou‘liitlirr'itlice’sgiiie fili(:l(1)il0bÂ¥nigile$'l;lilflfll(i EH91“ 0f -t'on‘pg 'up'the'bysum guild -, H » r _ curing slight Indispomtions. lo- llierg' mu‘Smg' Hie“ he Speaks “gflm- day lam a well woman and owe my. Ho'ï¬â€˜ from my I come backâ€"and tent-h life to Dr. \Vtilliams' Pink Pills. atnhd m 0"" mo mv res oration seems no mg The question. in its full significance. short "of a miracle. l was like one falls 011 Lady Leigh’s Bill‘s like astral!) dead and brought back to life, and .I at “rem†{nï¬ï¬ii'ha'lï¬i She ltllllrns lazily cannot; speak ttoo hitghly lof (this nltuliliâ€" 91‘ 9‘3“- 195 e S 0“ .See e 511 en cine. or urge 00 along y lose w 0 light that has brightened it at. his are afflicted to give it. a trial." _ Words. It has teen proved time and again "YOU- “in MING t0 tciu'h me, 100.’ that: Dr. Williams' Pink Pills cure She Whispers. shyly. heart troubles. nervous debility, rheuâ€" "I will teach you both, dear Jenny." matism. sciatica. St. Vitus' dance and “How did you know my name '4" she slbmach! trouble: They make new asks, trying, with a woman’s perver- blood and build up the nerves, restor- sity, born rerbaps of cowardice, to de- ing the glow of health to pale and salâ€" fer a little longer the end that. is lpw faces. lie sure you get tbeUgcnume coming fast. tus‘, there is no other medicine "the He draws abook from his breast coat same as" or “just as good" as Dr,“ I]- pocket. and opens it at the written su- liams' I’ink l’ills. if your dealer does perscription. - not have them they Will be sent post “I have had it all the time,†be ex- paidat 50 cents a box or six boxes for claims. and then again he says very by aéldrclssing {ï¬e gr.t\\’tllmms' earnestly, “Jenny, darling, Jenny, .edicme ‘o.. me Vic. 11 . when will you come to me to be taught -~- m the lessam that only love can teach?†THE NEW GERMAN SABBATH. She does not speak even then, but she ,_.__ turns ‘1“): limes herff‘we 0“ hlEhShould' Qultc l'nliltc lllcz'l'hlug (‘anlulluns Suppose er. am a 13 more, ar more an conâ€" n m B“ . , ‘ ' _ Y 122;} {Iggy Sit?r:h.;::gr“:g‘iz:€ Remember the Sabbath day. In Her- and she is not too old to begin life lin one is not very likely to forget it. again under these new and happier cir- \thn we read the nowosl. police regu- “umstances' lotions affecting thc. outcr observance I.“ ha,“ “'1†they my?" "he "ï¬ks' “n' of Sundavs and holy days. one feels er awhile, clasping her hands in pret- ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘. , . . ti). dismay uvvvhm, “.1†may Say at that the Scotch babbalb is not. in ii. this sudden ending of a. romance ofilt is the Glasgow Sunday of Rob lloy “'11th “183' 1333‘"? 110i Seen lb“ “(ï¬lm when a man might be arrested for idl- .. .,, , . . 7“ng ing in kirk tune. The first restrictions “Let them say what they will. I _ cal-e nut so that you are mine}! quoted scorn mild, perhaps even salut- "Bul. there is Rollo. He may t‘oiusc cry. All noisy trades and callings are his consent, and than â€"â€"â€"" ; forbiddcn during the hours of morning “And then I must marry yuu wizh'iset'vice so far as they interfere with There is a deepâ€"drawn breath, and then 8410113 silence, which she is the first. to break, with a. laughing light in her eyes, and mimicking his rather stiff and pompous tones. "Coronet Dare, lbelieve I. have to condole with you." “On what, Lady Leigh?" he ans« wers, light hearted enough, now that he knows the. falseuess of; that. report, to enter into her humor. ‘ “0n the shortness of your memory. It is not so very long since we last met. and yet the other dayâ€"" He inclines his head to her level as she pauses, and his tones are very low when he replies: "1 could only have one reason for that, Lady Leigh. 1 did not wish to compromise you by admitting. that Lhere had been a previous acquaintâ€" ance. Was ‘1 Very wrong i" “No, very right. You are always right," she exclaims, quickly, and then ,adds, "1 want you to forgive me for so much, Colonel Dare." "Won't: you cry quits i" he asks, gent- no fear of that "Be content sweet “he gummy “351- The 1’00" WUEKOD "1113' there is no escaping from. the bondage nol wag. “ml lb“ "0†“'MEKOB will" Hula of love. it. will hold; you too “shill/Wmâ€. the furniture van must not rum- toghctoï¬'†I r t h. l .l .blc down the peaceful streets. and pens “ " ' 1 f .' ‘.. . regrï¬slglésinli; “tepagsicggu:1“;in H l pic may not change houses on bumlay "Let. it be as I wish. this once, until .molnlng. But who that. could pay his I take up my vows of nbcdienrc. (‘ourt : rcnl would want to! Soon. however, me ovcr again, dear. lwcausc llu- World ; we porno to a stricter ruling. On Sunâ€" is so censorious, and I should not likuldays. days of pcniu-nce, and through 0111' halipiness SDOHNl by “H Spite. lloe.l|):nssil,url wcok. private festivities are sides"â€" looking down dcmurcly. â€""l[forbiddcn if they interfere with sot-b shall not be Sorry for lb“. reprieve."ldays. Into the house, the police don't. lie folds hnr tenderly in his arms. Imactly inl rude. but if "Let it be as you wishâ€"to the last. 1 flats fail to agrec on the question Illcn Shy Widow l" :tlp- police right comes in again. And jfinally. here is the gum of lilt: “bole -_-.. Tdusumcnt. Pcoplc are graciously pcr- ‘ , . Y ‘. . 3 . '. ‘mittcd to tcnd and water their flowers SI“ E5 HUBORLn \ “Ans 0' COAT" rln tbcir ga-rdcns and balconies on any According to the most. authentic his- .hour of Sunday exwept the hour» of tor ' of the coal trade last year mark“! lmoi ning divine serviceâ€"then they may ) “H . ' M , “h gnot. 'l'itc. moral of it all sucms to be “M seven lundru ] "'m'lm‘mr-l 0 9' ~~le lu-J‘ go to the church or keep safe- Ti‘ic linvl. -°-._ “paged to man). ani use of coal as fuel. Taking the nmslï¬xy in “my; 9Downe. and this is the evening of be-: moderate estimate of the antiquity nf‘: The D0i~n~lhires are I manhood considering the fact that the , think anicoal was always here. it appears that! engagement Ls binding as the mar-j we were a long time in availing our-'3 ' lselves of fins â€"_ A BE’I‘TER A “HANG if.“ l'lN‘l‘. Mr. Miscrly Skinnvrleml's asset il‘rlllh'i l)r. Killquickml-‘ifty l yiur most valuable ‘ dollars if I. lint diii'fu-rcnt ' C [one] Dare \vinues, but, makesabnllï¬ which nature placed at our disposal. ' I . I I ' . I em?“ to hide how hard the blow has? Many civilizations flourishednnd died =h4‘030u‘. willllflx.†)0†‘1'", . shut-k in“, “.iumu‘ imuse'andn may 1,, mid Mr. Miserly hkutncr~fiiakc tL vicc- ‘ if“ “9 Commue‘l') “It might be awkward if that idea that its lmtentialiiics.‘ as a factor in , Wer and amber of ms \vill'uiiu Ibo became general. invers' vows are u», the progress “I mi‘lnkwd' were "8"" L “mne'y' , . _ . . ' . ., 1e 0 be bmkeny urealized‘ fully unit t e present ccn-l "“"""' _ ’ [0 “NW “lemme†'" "‘6 “'"d'mg “"3 m ‘ t 4 on to its dawn astde from the: .wsr BEFORE 'rtm Fihlll‘. loaf in a [viper bag just after it. is. baked. It. is a curious fact that the women of Manchuria. China, are forbidden by imperial edict to bandage their feet in- to littlencss. The Manchu are the strong governing race In (mine. and the fanciful might hold that there was some connection between the strong stride of its women and the stout hearts and strong bodies of its song. But the cynicism does not impose upo'l tors?)ng of the had" and the rocking . \: V I {A l _ 4 _ ‘ "I ' I . ‘ I - og'ihge‘ligfznafuorwieli‘: ligoiifnvggggfflof fend. little importance was nltncllcd f0:â€":g~l“;):3f'é “1‘41 ‘5 lb" '11†“0 “‘th the beguliiul 'HhS' “‘ldo‘i'f “my to the me‘ quest'on' Ff“. these "up. ‘Iwam'l‘hc honeymoon my mu. did vou leave. Leigh Park?" he in. [mags «'1 few fagotsior billets of wood. ' ' v ulrés banteringly. sufficed. Rubin time we dismgvered ‘ _ _ H ""7 ’ q“Sin1 widow I" ’that in the fire there was a. giant :1. (.Oltlll‘LI Pilb‘i [ill 11th. .thousand‘ times more powerful than I rm†prescribe a bicycle to, yam "Yes. that is the name I: gave hen. ‘ . . Te" m". Wkdl‘l She "’9" find you‘ the “anew mMMe†or unt'muitï¬' Mrs- l-‘rankstmvn said Dr. i’ellflat to ' _ his patient. after an examination. nub!" ! , . . --1 would rather not qpeak about in! The average cmpmpflun of beer in Good? rcp'ied Mrs. Frankslown, and Graver. andâ€"«hush! here she comes," {Munich l5 four Blame it day for each in must be a airtime†bicycle, 04 "Let me present you in your properi man. “‘O‘D‘m “3d chi“!- course- v._.~y .a.--....._._ Mmm-â€"- ‘ " . 'â€" .- -_..... -..- ., a.