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All this time, there had been a. double shadow on my life; for not only was it darkened by my unfor- tunate and despairing passion, but by anxiety for my uncle. I alone of all who know and IOVed him, guessed the true cause of the sor- row which made him. “As a. tree inclincth Weak and bare Under its unseen load of wintry air." bcndAlowm‘ and lower with a. 1113’- sterious burden; so that, although not an old man. he had become PFC“ maturely infirm. He still Went about his daily work in the mine, but ioebly, mechanically. and very silvntly: but in the. long evenings he sat brooding by the fireside. starting at the sound of a. foot without, or a. knock at the deor. but otherwise showing little or no interest in the all-airs of life. Poor Annie noticed the change, and, secretly reproaching herself as the L'ituSe. was ever watchful to at- tend his slightest wish, to answer his most careless look. Iler moth- er's stoniness pained her, after all, infinitely less than the sad endurance of one who had ever been the tender- est oi fathers. And the change Hr llected herself in her: so that. no one would have recognized, in the pale sufi‘ering woman. the happy. gentle girl who had once been the light-of a humble home. I was anxious, too. to get away from the district. where- the engage- ment betwoen Madeline Graham and George Rodruth was a matter 01 common gossip: whom I was tor- L.- wanted. a down times a day. by rumors of what was going on up at the great house. After our fun-Well (it-scribed in the last chapter, when my last hope left me and there was. nothing for it save to resign myself: to the inevitable. I saw nothing: more of Madeline; but a day or two; later I heard that she had gone. uc-I companied by Redruth and hisf mother. to London. and I knew, ini some distant way, that the journey: meant further preparations for the: marriage. All this made me chafe‘ and fret like a man in chains: eager ‘ to breathe other air, and to put solid' earth betwL-en himself and his sources of torment. I had lost Madeline forever. that Was clear; indeed, I had now-r had any hope or chance of gaining her: but the dead, cold certainty of my loss was unendurable. If I Was to live On, I must exercise all the pow- ers 01 my manhood, and endeavor to forget what had been, at the best. onlyra foolish dream. So long as I remained in the neighborhood haunt- ed by so many SWc-et memories and troublous associations, forgetfulness Was of course impossible. The evening before the day fixr-d (or my departure, the gloom in the little cottage was greater than ever. All our hearts were full. Although I Was only going away a. little dis- tance, and although I had promised to revisit my old home whenever an opportunity ofl'ered. it seemed like parting with the old life forever. Ever since I was a boy. I had dwelt there, with those good people, who had stood to me in the place of ____IA I tau at \lxru father and mother; my little World had been St. Gurlottfis my only home that humble cottage; and I lllustntod In the Base of In. Turner, Who Was Thoroughly Be- storad By the Ilse of This Great Food cure. Se. . Once the system is weak, run down or exhauswd the natural process of menstruation is teQiously slow, usu- ally shiver than the wasting pro- cess, and the end can only be physi- cal bankruptcy a._nd collapse. ,x._L AL.‘ 1].. cal bankruptcy and collapse. It is just at this point that Dr. Chase's Nerve Food proves its Won- derful power as an assistant to na- ture, This great food cure contains In condensed pill form the very ele- ments required by nature to revital- he and build up the system. These Immediately enter the blood stream, and through the medium of the cir- culation of the blood and the nerv- ous system carry strength and vigor to each and every organ of the body. Mrs. P. Turner. 336 Aylmer Street, Peter-borough. "Out... and whose husâ€" band is employed Vat the Hamilton and through the medium culation of the blood and bus system carry strength to each and every organ oi laundry. VOL- X- NO. 25. $1 per annum CHAPTER XXV' THE OMEMEE MIRROR- should have been made of hard stufi indeed, if I had failed to fool the parting. We sat; togL-thcr round the fire. I tried to assume a. cheerful tom, and talked hopcl‘ully of the future: but it Was no use. Eugen as I was to get aWuy, l was no \oluntary exile Whmc I had lived so long I would hau‘ thos:n to hzuo liu‘d and died. My aunt, who was busily knitting some stockings to form part of my Wardrobe, listened to my bold talk, and dolot‘ully shook her houd. "'Tis Well to ha' a light heart,” she said. "and ‘tis easy when one is young. But they tell me OWL-n- dch)’ be u lawnsomc place." “'th a bit of it,“ I answered, iuughing. "Not half so lonesome as St. Gurlutt's." . “And it be so farâ€"Wis bad as go- ing across the sac." At this I laughed again. “ Vhy. 't.is only sovcxity miles away as the crow flies!‘ A man might. gul- Iop it. on u. good horse in u few short. hours. Then, as to the mine itself! It's different to being under- ground, and, what's - Worse, under salt \xatm‘. It's open to the sky, and cheerful as sunshine-45ft it uncle?" My uncle who occupied his usual place by the ingle, looked round Yucâ€" Andy and nodded: “lss, lad, that be true." "Sunshinn, did '00 say?" said my aunt. "There’ll be nuw sunshine {or me or father, when our lad be gone. 1 dawn't knaw what father will do with hisscn. when you‘m gone. You ha’ been his right hand eV'or sin you was but. a child: and now he be breaking like. he’ll miss (hue more ”and more. But I duWn't blame 'm‘. lad! Tou’m right to seek your fox'tin': and this be a poor place. Lord knows, for a. hold lad like you!" "lfugh will come back. mother." cried Annie. who stood behind hvr father‘s chair. for a while." "01‘ murse," I exclaimed. “Or, better. still. I shall make my fortune. as you say, and you will come over and live with me.” “Too lute 'for that," returned my aunt. “We be nwld folk naw, and our time be nigh come. When he comes hack, 'twill likely be to our buryin'." ' "Nonsense, aunt!" “I could ha’ died content, Hugh, if I had seen 'ee 8. happy'man, wi’ childL-r at your knee," slw said, glancing at Annie. and remembering the old plansâ€"~which had fallen long before, like a house of cards. V 7“1 shall never marry." I replied, darkening, in spite of myself. Them was a. long silence. My aunt‘s words had struck a painful chord. and We were all more or loss uneasy. To areal: the spell of gloomy thought, I rose and gazed from the window. It was a fine night. with 8.7 full moon. l. .. a :;\\'e shall have fun:- weather," I said. “The wind has gono up into the north. ' ’ As 'I spoke, the kitchen door open- ed, and John Rudd entered, hat, in hand. He greeted us all round, and. at my aunt's request. look a. seat by the fire. After smiling silently for some minutes, he felt in his pockets, and produced some of his usual presents, brought that day from I-‘almouth. ”Gawin' aWay, to-morrOW. Meas- tor IIugn?" he a§ked, presently. "\Eésf John. I stari; after break- fast." “Dear, dear! A-harseback, Meas- ter Hugh?" “No: I am going to trump it right across tho moor. I shall take it easy, you know; divide the journey into tWO days, and sleep one oight on the way." come.‘ ‘ Thank yqu. AJohn, " I said “It be a middlin' long walk. mens- tcr. Folk tell me there be snaw out on the moor. I wish '01: were going my way; I'd gie thee a. lift, and Wel- “For some months past I found myself growing very nervous, and gradually becoming a. victim of sloeplessness and subject to frequent. attacks of nervous headache. About. six weeks ago I began using Dr. Chase’s Nerve Food and cannot speak too highly of this medicine. I can sleep well now. the headaches have entirely disappeared, and I be- lieve that my system generally has been 'xnuch improved by the vsc of this treatment.” Nervous prostration and exhaus- tion. headaches, dyspepsia, dizzy and fainting spells, paralysis, locomotor ataxia, feelings of weakness, depres- sion and ‘ despondency are readily overcome by this treatment, work- ing. as it does, hwni in hand with nature. Though gradual, the results are all the more certain and lasting. and by noting you r increase in weight. you can pxove to your satis- faction that. new firm flesh and tis- To protect. you against imitations. the portrait and signature of Dr. A. w. ,Chase, the famous recipt book author, are on ever? box. ‘6; sue is being added. Dr. Chase’s Nerve Food fifty cents a. .box, six boxes for $2.50. At all dealers, or Edmanson. Bates ' so 00.. Toronto. He is only gomg "Lawd, it, do Seem but yesterday sin you first rode, a. little lad. in my awld cart. Do you remember, Measter Hugh, how 1 made a. pome about missis and Annie here. and how you put 'un down in writing as fine as print?” "bf course I do," I replied. ”You don't write so much poetry now. John?”- John Rudd‘s face fell. He scratch- ed his hcad somewhat lugubrious;y_. “My gift. be failing me, I fcax‘,j' he murmured; “but than pomcs be for young folk, and for old chaps like John Rudd. Howsomever, it do come out 0’ me now and then, like sparks fru.‘ a. for-gm but there be much on't I can't repeat, and much I disremcmbcr. 'Twere a. relief to my foolin’s like, Measter Hugh. when 1 had you handy to put ’un dOWn!” lie added, spreading his great hands on his knees, and sinking his voico to a whisper: “hid I ever Well ’90 the pouty pomc 'I made about, your son. when they took 'ce for killing the over- “lien? mind that now, John." I tried quickly. "Talk of something elseâ€"something; mow pleasant.’ “All right; Mons-101' Hugh.” re- turned the poet. “Shall I tell 'ee the news?" I nodded. and he continued: "Young master be coming home fro' Lunnun Lo-morrow wi’ her he is to Wed." “How do you know that?" I cried flushing to the temples, and consciâ€" ous that all eyes were tumotl sud- denly upon my face. "1 brought a. big bawx to leave up at; the house. Monster Hugh, and 'tWerc addressed to the young mis- sus: and when 1 were up in the kitchen, and taking a glass 0' ale wi' cook. they told me postman had brought a. letter this anal-noon, and that young monster were coming home. Soc?" 11c little knew the torture he was causing nlv; but’pvcry word he ut- 102(‘d wont through me like a knife. Again I made a device to change the subject. and succeeded: but while the good fellow prattlcd on, my mind was full 01‘ the news that, he had brought. My original determination had been to leave home at ten or eleven in the foronoon, and. striking across he nfoorlund. to (To a. leisurely for- tv miles before resting for the night; but I was now resolved to (lep alt much earlierâ€"indeed, at, daybreak. I dreaded the torture of seeing my darling again; and I know it to be extremely probable that she might arrive from Falmouth very early in the day. After: a parting glass of spirits, in which he pledged me heartily, 'and wished me all the good. luck in the World, John rose to go away. I walked with him to the door, and across the garden to the gate. Here We shook hands hea‘rtily. “Keep an eye on the old man when I am gone," I said. “Gwen- dovey is not. far away. but far enough if anything goes wrong. My uncle may want. a friend. If any- thing; happens, don't fail to send to me at once." "1'11 do that. Monster Hugh," ro- pliod John Rudd. “I be downright, grieved to see the old mun saw bro- ken down." After another hearty hand-shake he walked away in the moonlight. I Was turning to go in, when I felt a. touch upon my arm. It was Annie, who had crept out after me, and now spoke in a. low voice, almost a whisper: “Hugh, dear Hugh, this is the last night We 31ml! be togqthcr fur many a long day. I wanted to speak to you before you go. I wanted to be quite sure that we are friends, in spite of all that has paSSGd." Her voice was broken with tears. Full of tenderness and pity for her. I put my arm around her. and kiss- ed her on the forehead. “More than friends, Annie," I said. "Brother and sisterâ€"as much as if we Were so by blood." “Oh, you are good, good!" she cried; resting her head on my shoul- der. “Don't think, I am ungrateful! Don't think I fail to see how kind you have been; how all your thought has been for othersâ€"never for your- self. "But, Hugh, dear. you Won't be angry if I Speak of itâ€"it's on my mind, and I should like to say it te you before you go." "What is it, Annie?" “It'q about. Miss Graham! ‘Ahl don't " be, angry! 'I wouldn’t pain you for the world!" “Do not speak of her!” I said, trembling. “But you love her. Hugh. you lave herâ€"ah, do you think I 'have not She raised her eyes to my face, and looked at. me earnestly and lung. Then she said: "Sometimes. Hugh, I have thought that you are wrong, for you are Worthy of any lady in the land. Sometimes I have thought that. it you had only spoken. she would have listened to you. Why do you give her up? Perhaps there is time yet?" "In a few days, Annie, she will be married to Mr. Redruth." . “New-r, never," cried my cousin, with strange vehemchc. “Yes. Annie. I love her. What then? I learned long ago that my love was hopeless and foolish. She is as far aWay from me as that star! I ought to have known it from the br‘ginning.” any reason?" "Yes. ”Hugh. Do not ask me to say more now: D.“ promiseâ€"prom- ise me that you will not quite do’ spair. For you care for her very much, do 31": not? and 1â€"]: know "Why, it is all arranged. They are engaged. Even if it were omen wise. where would bemy chance? Great ladies do not marry beggars. little woman !" "It is of that I wished to speak," persistvd Annie. “I do not think those two will ever be man and wife.” “Why dd‘you say that? Have you N)- n reason?’ ’ «OH‘ WAD SOME POWER THE GIFTIE GIE US. TAE SEE OOBSEIB AS ITEERS SEE US." OMEMEE ONT., THURSDAY, JULY 2. 1903. THE SUMMER VACAIION Evils of Some Summer Resorts Un= sparingly Denounced. {Entered according to Act a: the Par [lament or Canada. in the your GM Thousund Nine Hundred and Three. by Wm. Bailv, of Toronto. at the Department of Agriculture. mum-D A despatch from Chicago says' Rev. Frank De Witt ’l‘uhuagc p11:a.ch~ cd from the following text: hum- hers xxxii, 23, “Be. sure yBur sin will find you out." “that are you going to do this] summer? “Take a vacation," you answer. “I am going away to the country. There was once a time when I did not believe in Sirnuuer Vacations. I thought they were merely lazy men's excuses for shin-k- ing work. But now 1 know that I was urista.l.en. I have been graduâ€" ally breaking doWn under the ceaseâ€"t less monmmnies of business. 1 want and need a change. I am going out among the green hills or down by the seashore. I will leave word that all letters and telegrams at the store. as far as possible must re- main unanswered until 1 get back. 1 anug‘oin‘g to rusticate. I shall. tur‘n unwell out to grass and let my mind run i‘allow.” SABBAT'H DIESECRATlON. But, my hearers, before, We separ- ate for the summer, as your pastor I would like to ask you another question: What do you expect to do when you are in the country? How are you going to spend that vacation? You have been working hard during your life. In one sense‘ you have destroyed your ability toi plum Therefore when you go to; the country and do not know whati to do temptations will there assaili you which would never tempt you when you are at: home and at work. Now, the purpose of this sermon is ‘not to talk of libertines anid loafers jan'd dead beats. It is not to upâ€" raid the social outcasts and the. sin- iful vmmpires who as human leeches try to suck the life's blood out of their fellow men at the summer we.â€" tering places. That class of peomle are not those whom I want to talk to now. But I would to-day. as a pastor, earnestly and pruyerthrlly, give a. few words of practical ad- vice to hard working people who will spend their vacations away from home. I would try to warn you against the temptations which will confront you and which, if suc- cessfiul, may destroy your entire Christian character. The leprous germ absorbed into the Spiritual .body in a. day may continue to Work its malformations clear on down to the graVe and change your ‘whole eternal destiny. - u uv-v v -v- ..w. Summer red light the first: Be- ware of Sabbath desecration. That means beware that you do not un- arinor yourSelves by one false move and leave your beating hearts de- l'enceless before the poisoned arrows. of the Satanic archers. Beware that. you do not practically say to~ the evil tempters: "Hero am I, oil‘ on my summer vacation. I have left my religion at home. I am ready to let you lewd me where you will. For two or three weeks. or one month at least. I will enter no church, listen to no sermon, utter no public prayer and ask for no de- vine protection. I will take a holi-l day from religion as well as from: business. and as a beginning I will disregard the Lord's day.” HOW TO START A VACATION. "What do you mean by such a warning as that?" some one asks. “Why do you place such emphasis upon Sabbath observance?" Be- cause. my friend, the Way you gen- erally start your summer vacation is the Way you will end it: The Sabbath desecration is the keynote, as a. rule, or the forerunner. of a. long series of spirit-uni backslidin-g. :H‘ow? In all probability your sum- lmer .vacation will start on a Saturâ€" ‘ day afternoon How will you spend your first day in the country? Will you do it with prayer and conse- cration? Will you do it by taking your children to the Sunday school as yoixrs.” what you must feel. with such a love As she spoke, the old suspicion came upon me. I bent down and gazed into her face, lit by the bril- liant moonlight. Never had she looked so pretty. "‘Annic, " I said, "before I go, have you nothing more to say to me?" “No deal Hug h." "I meanâ€"about yourself. " How she trembled! I could feel the sudden leaping of her heart, as I proceeded: ‘- ‘A, ,.u "I have had my own thoughts all along, but I have kept. them to my- self. You know what; I said to you long ago about George Redruth? Was I right. or wrong?" I saw her agony, and forbore to question her further. But we did “0t go in at once. Lingering at the gate, we talked of old times. of her father, of many things near to our hearts. but no more of the one thing that Was nearest to mine. All my anger against her, all my indignation at the trouble she had wrought, died away in tender bro- therly sympathy and an‘ection. She was my little cousin again, my con- fidante and friend. The peace of the still night fell upon us, touching our spirits with a. beautiful consecration. Never shall I forget that gentle time of parting; _~'»j "Do not ask me now,” she sobbed. “Some day, soon too. you shall know everythingâ€"but not nOW! not to-night!" Ul Pal blils‘. “Whatever happens," I said. as we turned to go in, “remember that; I am your loving brother. “Dear, dear Hugh!"‘she answered. “I have‘ not loved you half enough. Ah. if I had trusted you at the first! But maybe it is not too late. even now. God help me, I will try to make amends!” (To be‘ continued.) ...-. .. .‘ . «c. ., m..r..- .~b~~m~»m and joining the Christian WOX‘KOX‘S of that. neighborhood in public wor- ship within the {our walls of the A _... n ..... A." Dlllll I'lv IIIII v-.' little village church, or will you do it by coming down in your fishing togs or by waving your golf stick 4.. I..11 Ac {hum-I Lvso v. ”J ..._ or with your baskets full of foodi for a. rollicking time in the woods‘ on a Sunday picnic? Here are the two extremes. Which will you choose? The one heads toward spir- itual renovation; the other heads toward spiritual death. No man or woman ever lived who could suc- cessfully resist, tho temptations of our sumnwr resorts who started their vacations by brouking the law L Alb! of God's sacred Sabbath. Such a church member always comes back to his church home a moral cripple after he has spent the Sabbath days of his summer vacation in handling; the tiller of a sailboat or in hitting‘ the little white halls over the golf links or in looking at, tho hobber floating at the end of a line attach- ed to a fishing pole. Siam your Vacation aright for God and it will end right. Start: it, by praying in the. village pew for divine guidance. Start; it, if possible, by helping the Village choir sing in the choir loft. Start it. as you would start it, if the first Sabbath of your summer vacation was to be your first Sab- bath in heaven. EVILS OF PUBLIC DANCING. Summer red light the Second: Be- ware of the hotel ballroom and the summer public dance hall. I am not, now discussing the quesiion of dancing in general: I am not con- sidering whether it be right or L 2,, VA».-. ...,, V, wrong for the young folks, withini the quictude and the sacred prchi cincts of it home, to have one ofl their number linger the ivory keysi of the piano; then, while the state} 1y strains of the mi‘nuet or the lanâ€"; cers sound forth, to have the boys: or slower heating of the music. “'01 do know that, Miriam d.llll(‘('(i before: the Lord. Perhaps there may be! times in the home when the dancei may be a harmless amusement. It: may he the means of a harmless! frolic and the means of keeping the?l children at. home, where the fathers! and mothers and grumifutlu-r andi grandmother may be participants inil t he domestic merri ment. Bu t, though I am not, now denouncing; the harmless social enjoymentss which take place in the home. I do; most vehemently protest against the? promiscuous dance hall at our sum-{ mer watering places. I know ofi what I am speaking. I am not a; stranger to the social etiquette oi"- this world. Men and women whom! I address to-day. 1 defy you to i‘mdi one man or woman of noted spirit- ual power who will contend that the] summer ballroom is a safe place in which to allow our sons and daugh- ters to pass the summer months. I defy you to find one young man or woman who ever learned the lesson of Christ love in the fetid atmos- phere of a public dance hall. AVOID GAMES 0F CHANCE. l i Sumner red light the third: lie-w ware of all games of chance. What1 i does uhat moan? Beware of joining [the gambling table, which will be played every night in the side room of the hotel which opens into the hotel bar, which game will be kept up until 3 or 4 o'clock in the morning. Beware of (20111- mingling with the “plungers” gath- ered before the bookmakers' stands at the famous summer races? on, no. I would no more expect you to be found in such flagrantly com- promising positions than you would expect to find your pastor there. But beware of the insidious beginnings. Beware of Wagering the box of candy upon the game of tennis or quoits which is played in the hotel grounds. Beware of betting the penny upon the simple game which is played upon the hotel porch. In other words, beware of taking your first lessons in one of the awful, the most facinating and the most de- structive of all evils, the gambling evil. When the poisonous desires of a game of chance are once inoculated into a young man’s heart there seems to be no human power to stop him from. committing mental, physical an 'spirituul suicide. The. race track and the roulette table an: the thxcatening rocks where thousands upon thousands of human crafts are wrecked for time and fox eternity. Trifle not with the games of chance, however small the wager, any more than you would play about a rattle- snake's fang or toy with a boa con- strict'or's coils or a. tigcr’s claw. FLIRTING DENOUNCF‘D' lnressure i; withdrawn. :vou have got? Summer red light the fourth: lie-la soft article, caused by the slack! were of trifling with human all‘ec- icooling 0f ”10 curd, .11 \met of Mid; tions; Oh, the fascinations and yet 01‘ _botih. At best, It Will have an; the hellish malforming powvr of a I insurm flavor, and tvxll ‘go ofl" as it; summer flirtation! lluve you ever 3505- (‘lmt‘Se which feels So hard‘ sat upon a. hotel porch and watched that f0“. Ci”) 110‘ IPVOSS 1t 0:1,.1h-e‘ the insects gather out of the darkâ€" rtxud'is t'ltlu‘l sour, saltefl too iLdAl-l ness and buzz and play about the 13v.<‘?01~0d 100 much, 51‘1"““0‘1. or. electric lights? Those “ng have sull'ermg from a touch of all these! for them the fatal spell that the I co'l‘xxflgtlxlgdsthoese will be mellow to‘ fggiftfifé ‘licfglfm92itr12; Sljfiicggsflghg 12:: the touch, yet firm. Its rind will be1 edge of her nest. These insects will frf0131nlmgg't‘1113igfié :Lfigfé :3? “:23 Circle round and round the brilliant \‘cul firm, close grained, buttery; light. They will disappear [or . , ,, awhile, as though they know the cheese or a nutt; flmor. hot tongue of death is ready to ,' _ , touch them. Then at last they will mtgirgnggf‘mlgfigfig' quiet make one plunge and m an instant to-day,' with no change in prices. the Wings and ‘90 legs are gene. We quote as follows: Choice. 1'-lb. Then the p or suffering creature falls rolls 16 to 170. selected dairy to the gro' nd, wriggling and twist- tubs. 15 to 16c; S'ocomgq, grades ing and dying, to be trampled under (store packed), 12 to 13%: cmaLmnc-rv the foot of man. Such are the nw- prints. 19 10 20c; solids; 18 (:0 ml results which follow when the 18“. ‘ human insects play about the hiss- Eggsâ€"The market continues firm, ins. blasting fires of a summcn’a‘ "with small supplies. We quote: s9 flirtation; It may be pleasant '2er 10.6th stock,,15c: ordinary, 140; set» awhile to feel the hot flush uponthe“ om mini checks. 11¢, > , ‘cheek. It may seem ”131411313229 i. cheese-rmrke ; ; ti» lpass a few hours as a coqugtt: “’ j .g ' "I ' ~ - _ Christi an workers ing and inflaming the tenderest feel- ings of a. true man in a summer row- boat or in romantic Walks through the woods. It may seem to be a glorious act to boast how many you can conquer in love. as an Indian Warrior boasts of his prowess in war by the number of scalps he carries at his belt. But by the scorched and bruised and multilated hearts of thousands which have been malformg ed for time and eternity in the glowing flames of a. summer flirta- tion I denounce trifling with human love. I denounce it before the young people who may be participants dur- ing their next summer vacation in this merciless, heartless and damn- ing universal evil. PERIL 01“ THE WINE CUP. Summer red light the fifth. Be- ware of the serpent which lies coiled up in the bewitching wine cup. Men carry their bottles of intoxicating beverages when they 'go fishing or dancing or taking a tramp in the Iwoods, and men drink everywhere. But this for which is not the greatest curse} Olll‘ SUHlIXIOI‘ resorts are‘ famous. They are noted as places where women get drunk as Well as the men. To me the most. abjectly repulsive creature on earth is a drunken woman. When 1 see one I know not which feeling predominates most in my heart, that of pity or of horror. In our summer hotels women now drink everywhere. There- fore, friends. I beg of you when you are in a summer party where wine is passed around do not touch it. For your Christian example’s sake do not touch it. For the danger of inflaming your own evil tastes do not touch it. Stand back from the evil wine cup though it may be offer- ed to you by the jewoled hand of a hostess or by the companion who pretends he is your friend, The tempter may not be able to enslave you in a city where you are in ac- tive work, but he may be able to ldig for you a drunkard'mgrave 1among the many sinful summer fas- cinations of a hotel piazza. FAMILY SEPARATIONS. Summer red light the last: Bc~ Ware of the family separations which itake away for any length of time. awives from husbands, husbands from 'wives, brothers from sisters and liparents from children. Mark this. [my friends, and what I say. I speak 3calmly and deliberately: Nine-tenths of all the evil temptations of our summer resorts are dirertly or in- :directly due to the separations of ,families. These sqwrations lay fiemptations, awful tcmpatations. at ithe feet of the men who are com- polled to stay at homo and Work. They lay temptations, awful tempta- tions, at the foot of the women who are oil in tho summur hotels. Go to a. summer rosort ‘m-ar to your homo. Be in a place where all the members of the family can get together eu-ry few days. Never let your husband learn the lesson how to be happy without you and the children. Wives and mothers. never learn yourselves the lesson how you can be happy without your husbands and the chil- dren by your side. As fair as you may be able, during the years of your earthly life nmor he separated from your low-d ones for any length of time until you are compelled to lay them aWay for the last, sloop in a, new made grave. w- a-‘wov-;...-v --,wu~avae-9»-u:~_-~ In closing I would speak to you Words of congratulation and {good cheer. Before we separate for the summer months I Would say. men and women. I congratulate you be- cause you have well earned your rest. I congratulate you because you have finished a hard winter’s work. I congiatulate vou that. you are going out among the trees and the flOWOIS and the mountains and the Valleys: that you are going to drink out of the cool spring and see the cows gather for the evening milking And I also congratulate vou that the same Christ whom vou worship here _\ou can worship there Take along the Saviour's compan- ionship. Pray during;r the next few weeks for divine protection and help. :Then, if you have Christ along. there will be no fear that. you will lsuccumb to the evil temptations which beset every one during a. sum- mer vacation. \V "A choesr with an indication of goodness will have an even colored, not mottled, rind. . The moment you press your finger tips on the rind you can begin to judge of the in- ferior makeup of a. cheese. If it yields readily to the pressure of the fingers, and the rind breaks, or does not spring back readily when the nressurc is withdrawn. you have got a soft article, caused by the slack cooling of the curd, a. want of acid or both. At best, it will have an insipid flavor, and will ‘go off" as it. ages. Choose which feels so hard that you can not press it on the rind is vitln-r sour, salted too heavi- lyk cooked too much, skimmed, or suffering from a touch of all these complaints. , "A good choose will be mellow to the touch, yet firm. Its rind will be of an even lint, elastic, and free fr‘om pulls, and the sample will re- vcul firm, close grained, buttery cheese of a nutty flavor." THE DAIRY MARKETS. Butter â€" The market was quiet. to-day,' with no change in prices. We quote as follows: Choice, 1-11). rolls, 16 to 17c; selected dairy, tubs, 15 to 16c: socandaq' grades (store packed), 12 to 13$; cromnnn' prints. 19 .10 20c; solids, 18 to 181C. _ « . . .., n, HOW TO CHOOSE CHEESE. :. W. RICHARDS, Publisher and Proprietor THE MARKETS Prices of Grain, Cattle, etc in Trade Centres. Toronto, June 30. â€" Wheatâ€"Mar- ket is firm, with fair demand. N0. 2 white and N01 2 red quoted at 74; to 75¢ cast, and 74§c middle Heights. N0. 2 spring at 700 mid- dle: N0. 2 goose at (36 to 67¢ on Midland. Manitoba wheat, firmer; No. 1 hard quoted at 86c Goderich. and No. 1 Northern, 85c Goderich; No. 1 hard, 92c grinding in transit. lake and rail, and No. 1 Northern, 91c. Oats â€" The market is firm on lim- ited oflexings. X0. 2 white quoted at 32 to 32. ,c middle freight, and No. 1 white at, .3350 cast. Barley â€" Trade is quiet. No. 3 extra quoted at 44c middle freight. an‘d N0. 3 at 42?2 to 43c. Rye â€" The market is steady at 520 cast, for No. 2. l’eas â€"- Trade dull, with No. 2 white quoted at (54 to 65¢ high freight. Corn â€" Market is firm; N9. 3 Am- erican yellow quoted at 59c on track, Toronto, and No. 3 mixed at 58c Toronto. (meadian iced com, 5] i0 west, and at 56c, Toron- to. Buckwheat â€" Nothing doing, “ith prices nominal at 39 to 40¢ outside. Flour -â€" Ninety per com. patnnts quoted 10-day at $2.75 middle insights, in buyors' sacks, for exâ€" port. Straight rollers of special brands for domvstic trade quoted at $3.25 to $3.40 in bhls. Manitoba. fio’ur steady. No. 1 putnnts, $47.10 to $4.20, and strong buknrs', $3.85 to $3.90 in bags, Turonto. 1151mm â€"â€" Bran is firm at $18, and shorts $19 here. At outside points bran is quou-d at $16.50 to $17, and shorts at $18. Manitoba. bran in sacks, $20, and shorts at $22 hero. Smoked nmats â€" Hams, 13 f0 13.1.c; rolls, 11;c; shoulders, 1047c; backs. 1-1 to 155c; breakfast bacon. 13; to 140. Lard â€" The market is Steady. We quote: Tivrcos. 10c; tubs, 105:; pails, 10;c; compound, 8 to 90. Dressed hogs are steady. Cured 11108.15 are unchanged, with a good demand. We quote; Bacon, clear, 10 to loge, in ton and cage lots. Pork, moss, $21; do., short cut. Month-:11, June 230. â€"â€" The local markets are fairly active and Steady“ Wheat is shady, and flour pricvs are firm, though as yet un- changed. Buttcr and choose are un- changed, though chaos.- is a little easier. The Lin-umol quotation for cheese is 533 (id for w-‘m‘te, and 553 6d for colored. Grain â€" No. 1 Manitoba hard wheat, 81c; No. 1 Northern, 7950. afloat Fort .Wil- liam; peas, 63c high i‘roig‘hts, 720 here: rye, 52c cast. 58k afloat here; buckwheat, 46 to dfigc: oats. No. 2, 3843c in store hero, and flaxseod, $1.15 on track here; food barley, 480; No. 3 barley. 51c: com. 58 to 59¢ for No. 3 yellow American. ‘ Flour â€" Manitoba pawn-ts, $4.10 to 134.20; seconds, 83.80 to 84; strong ‘bakex‘s', $3.40; Ontario straight rol- Was, 53.45 m $3.60: in bags, :1.â€" 67} to $1.75; patents. $3.70 to $4. Buffalo, Juno 30. â€" Plourâ€" Firm. Whvat â€" Spring stowdy: No. 1‘ non-horn. c.i.f.. 87M: winter, No. 2 white 830, No. ‘2 rod 805C. Comâ€"- Strong: N0. 2 yellow. 56“: No. 2 corn, 545C. OMSâ€"«Strong; No. 3 white, 445cc No. 2 mixed, 42c. Bar- by â€" Western ofi‘omd at 52 to 58¢. Rye -â€" No. 1, 57¢. Canal heights â€"Stead_v. ' St. Louis. June 30. â€"- Wheat â€" July, 8241c: September, 763C; De- cember, 773C. Mil“ aukoo. June 30. â€" Wheat ~â€" ic highcr;1\‘o. 1 Northern 87 to 872C; No.2 Norths‘rn 86 to 86“; Jul\', new, 793C. nominak old, 8010. Ryeâ€"£30 higher: No.1, 540. Barley AStrong‘; No. 2. 58 to 60¢: sample. 48 to 53c. Comâ€"11115. 515:. Minneapolis. J unc 30. â€" “1:anâ€" Cash, 8)§c; July, 81'C;Scptembor. 753 to 75;c; \o 1 hard 86’c: No. 1 Northern, 85 ;:c No. 2 Northern, 84: c; No 3 Northern, 80 to 83¢. ' C A'I‘TLE MARKET. Toronto J mm 30. â€" General trada conditions at the “cs-tern Cattle Market to-day were about stand} with those of the last market day. The run of cattle was fairly good¢ and with the exception of export cattle the demand kept abouf steady. Exporters are quoted slightly oasier, in sympathy with Chicago markets. Butchers' run about steady, and prices of other live stock are unchanged. The total run amounted to 89 cars. and in- eluded 1.230 cattle. 1,289 sheep, 1,- 518 hogs, and 85 calves. Export cattle, extra choice ...... ... ...$4.90 g5.10 do ch‘nice ...‘ 4.70 4.90 do medium ... 4-.‘30 4.60 do cows 3. 3.0 4.00 Inferior cows ......... 2." m 3.25 Butxhors' picked lots 4.60 4.75 do choice 4.40 4. 50 do fair to good 4.10 4. :30 Good cows 3.25 rough do .. .. 2.50 Bulls export hoaxy .. 3.75 do medium ......... 3.00 do light 2.75 Feeders. sho‘rt keen. 4.40 do medium ... 4.00 do light 3.60 Stoakcrs, choice :3. 50 pr 'do common ......... 2. 1-) ‘Milch cows each ..'30 00 Export ewes, per cwt 3." (5 do bucks, per am. 2.75 C‘ulls, oath ......... ... 2. 50 Spring lambs, each .. 2.50 Calves. per 1b...3: . 40,04“ do each ... ‘ MARKETS OI',‘ THE WORLD .A<h~:./OF Pt mu QZHWDQ UNITED STATES MARKETS. HOG PRODYC'TS. . . 3.25 3.75 .. 2.50 .2 00 1t heavy .. 3.75 425 m ......... 3.00 3.50 .. .. 75 3.00 hort keen. 4.40 4.60 m ... 4.00 4.40 ......... .. 3.60 4.00 :hoice 3.50 4.00 on ......... 2.75 3.00 rs. each 30.0 40.00 as, per cwt 3 75 3.90 . per cm 2.75 3.00 2.50 3.50 . .......... 2 :06 10.00- per art '5. 75 0.00 _..A AAA 3.25 4.75 4.50 4.30 3.00 4.25 3.50