The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

»hr tA* »Sr I&T *9* -SAT SI*. STO S&T SI* SBI *KT Y&T jyC jy? JyT T^f Jy* JyC * MMM WTWF : _ A £ . * • • / • * . - = - R • • • ,}vy $#$*« Hall** • LOVRT. *%-' ' t£&. CHAPTER VII.--(Continued.) "Rate, Mr. Magnum! Do you pre­ tend to be wiser than the whole coun­ try side?" "By no means, my love." "Well, every one says, the place is fail of ghosts!" "Yes. my dear." "What every one say* must be true." Mr. Magnum did not dire :#S> ;*iay "And so the place is haunted," re­ plied his better half, triumphantly. "Ugh! I would not live in that old house for the whole world," said Kitty, , shrugging her shouders. "Does Mr. Cowleylikeit?" asked Mrs. Magnum. ?'„• • "No--I think not." "Then why does she stay?" Mr. Magnum coughed and looked embarrassed. "My dear, Mr. Cowley is a very pe­ culiar man--very. I am afraid he gen­ erally does what he likes, without con­ sulting his wife." "And she lets him?" exclaimed Mrs. Magnum, shutting her lips, viciously. "I am afraid she does." "Well, if women will 'be fools, they must But I only wish I was Mrs. Cow­ ley! Do you feel tired, Miss Marjorie? You don't look quite well." "I am rather tired," replied the gov­ erness, very quietly. "Then pray don't sit tip longer than you like." Miss Marjorie took the hint, put away her work, said good-night, and left the room. Two pairs of eyes fol­ lowed her with anything but loving looks. "Nasty, proud thing! I hate her!" said Kitty, in a low tone. "And so do I!" replied her mother, with emphasis. "But she will be go­ ing next month, so we need not trouble ourselves about her." CHAPTER VIII. Miss Marjorie did not, however, go to her own room. She took a cloak from its peg in the hall, threw it over her head, opened the front door softly, and went out. Mrs. Magnum would have been shocked out of all her propriety if she had seen her pacing up and down the garden walks alone; but Just at that moment Miss Marjorie cared little for Mrs. Magnum, or any­ thing she could say. The night was dark and starless, the sir chill and raw. But after that heat­ ed room it was a positive luxury to feel the fresh, damp wind coming from the hills . After those sharp, unnerv- ^ * tag voices it was soothing to listen to * the leafless trees breathing and whis­ ky - pering of the coming of the rain. Storm and cold and darkness--they Sf^ were all preferable to that snug par­ se: ° lor and its disagreeable inmates; and * * - so Miss Marjorie paced up and down, Bp and down, and thought. v * Thought of another time which had been far happier than this! A time Xv, , when she was also a companion, but Ik}/*"-- not Miss Magnum's companion! A IP time when there was one voice that i ways soften id when it spoke her - name; when there were eyes that brightened at her coming--lips that welcomed her as only privileged lips might do! She thought of long, pleas­ ant eveningB, spent with books and work and music, around a cottage fire. Of quiet walks and talks by summer moonlight Alas! where had those blissful moments fled? Why had the fV dearest, the sweetest of ties failed her? \K Why, from that wealth of love and ten- -v " H1" WW: M:, . derness had she been cast out into Che cold world alone? She had been foully slandered; she had been cruelly distrusted; she had been heartlessly deserted! Over and * ^ over again she said this to herself. Yet : . on that night, as she walked up and down the gravel path, the sense of In- f jury and of wrong seemed to die away and in their place came a wild yearn- |g,. Lag for the olden time--but for one ~f moment of the happiness of yore! "Ob, that it were possible * , In this dull life of pain, I J find the arm of my true love Around me once again!" she murmured, as she clasped her ;X hands above her aching heart Where . was the? What was he doing now? fi;: Beautiful and bright, he had risen like |jb ' S a star above her lonely path; had won v?' her heart, and worn it for a time; j|" had bound her to him by the most sa- I,"" cred ties; then left her for years, per- f4' " # haps forever! Where was he--where ' ^ was he? And she stretched out her arms to the sullen night sky in her ' vain and passionate appeal to him 3 who would come no more. qjgf The sky grew darker. A drop of rain touched her cheek. She turned to go in, yet, with a strange, uneasy feeling, she lingered a moment beside the gate looking out upon the dark road that led Into the village. Then her eyes wandered away beyond Banley, and out towards the hill where the haunt­ ed house stood. How strange the un­ seen and unacknowledged link that bound her to the people there! What would they say' when she went to them and told her tale? Would they think her mad or would they take compassion upon her for the sorrow she had undergone, and admit her to their family circle as a welcome and honored guest? Was it likely? Had they ever heard her name? Yet how well she knew theirs; and how much die could tell of their daily life and habits, from the stern banker down to his favorite daughter, Rose! "Cous­ in Rose! Cousin Rose!" She said it aloud twice, and then started and flushed guiltily, lest any one should have heard her. feome one had heard! Not Mr. Mag- nnm--not even Kitty, but a tall, hand­ some young man, who had been walk­ ing along the public road, with his hands in his pockets and his head bent down. He had passed the gar­ den gate without even looking that way, but the low voice made him start round.iaan instant he, had " I?;.,, MM. leaped the iron fence, and stood by Miss Marporie's side. "Have I found you at last?" he ex­ claimed. ' "I have looked for yon all over England, and in vain. Now, Mar­ jorie--" But Miss Marjorie looked In his fllce, gave a low cry, and fainted. He caught her in his arms and kissed her passionately. "Marjorie, my love, my darling, look up and speak to me!" . Slowly she revived. Slowly she "ieame to the knowledge that life was no longer a blank--that he had re­ turned, and that he loved her still. "Oh," she sighed, "is this a dream?" "No dream, but trutti, my darling." "Are you sure? I have dreamed so many times." "But you are awake now. Awake, to hear me say that I wronged you-» that I was a jealous, suspicious fool to listen to a word against you; awake to see me kneel at your feet and ask your pardon! LOok, Marjorie! I won't rise till you say you have entirely for­ given me!" "My love--my love!" answered Miss Marjorie, bending over him with a ra­ diant smile. And then the long misery of the past was wiped away "and for­ gotten. "But where have you been?" she asked, when the first surprise was over. "Where have you been, and how did you know I was here?" "I have been in Australia, my love. I would not come back till I could lay a fortune at your feet, as some amends for all I have made you suffer; and I can do it now. Thanks to a spade and pickaxe, I am a rich man, and you shall have a new silk dress every day, and eart; off gold and silver plate, it you like, Marjorie!" "As if I cared for that!" site said, kissing him. "No, I know you are not mercenary; but still, money is one of the best things you can have, my child. Money and love--love and money; any one who can get those two things may think himself remarkably well off In this vale of tears, Miss Marjorie! And you have both; and if you don't feel obliged to me for getting them, you are a very ungrateful young woman, I must say." c "Oh, I do, I do, but how in the world' did you know I was here?" ."I did not This is the strangest part of the story. I came home to En­ gland lonely and sad enough. For three years in Australia I have been trying to find you out, through agents and advertisements, in rain. Where have you been?" I taught in a school at Brixton for two years after I lost you; and then one of the pupils, daughter of this Mr. Magnum--" The gentleman who owns this house?" Yes; his daughter was educated at that school, and she thought I would make a suitable companion for her mother, who is ill, or who fancies her­ self so. at least I have been here a year. I shall leave the place in a month's time." In a week--in a day!" was the im­ petuous reply. "Do you suppose I am going to have you slaving here now I am home again? You will pick up your traps to-night and be ready to go with me when I call for you to-mor­ row, which will be as soon after break­ fast as I can get over from Banley. Do you hear?" "Yes, but I must give some notice." "Not a bit of It Are they kind to you?" "Not very." "Do yon like them?" "Not at all." "You don't mean to say that they have ill-used you?" "Oh, no." "But, in fact, yon hate them?" "Exactly." "Poor darling! And yon have a year of this drudgery?" "Never mind; It is all over now." .. "That it is." "But finish your story. Tell me how you happened to flnd me here." "Do you know that my uncle Cowley is here?" "Yes." "Shut up with all his family In a house full of ghosts?" "I have heard of it" "I went straight to his house In Mecklenburg square, only to flnd It empty. The housekeeper gave me the present address, and, on reaching Ban- ley, I found his name in everybody's, mouth. If he had seen half the sights and heard half the sounds villagers re­ late he must be a lunatic by this time. In the place of waiting till to-morrow to pay my visit, I thought I would go to-night, and see if there was any truth in these marvelous tales. And while I was walking along, thinking of ghosts and hobgoblins, I heard a little voice plainly say in the darkness, 'Cousin Rose!--Cousin Rose!' It was the voice I had been hungering and thirsting to hear for three long and weary years. Now you know the whole. Were yon thinking about Rose?** "YeS." "You will like her dearly. She is a good little thing, and will make a sis­ ter of you the moment I tell her your story. Will you go there with me to­ morrow?" "Will they welcome me?" "Of course they will, you goose! Oh, Marjorie! My own Marjorie! they will love you for my sake, even as I love you for your own, you wicked, fas­ cinating, cruel little monster!" "He! he! he! That's prime!" ex­ claimed a boyish voice in the shrub­ bery; and Marjorie started from her lover's arms. "Julius, is that you?" she cried. "I should rather think it was!" the promising youth replied, standing out upon the gravel path. "I've been watching you for ten minutes at the least, and haven't you been going on kissing and hugging! Oh, *yt won't mother go Into a tantrum when she hears of it! I shan't have to learn Mf amre Latin lessons! You'll hav# Mian Marjorie, as sure as eggs Is eggs! Helgho, jeminy, and a rig^ duia!" | His exulting dance was speedily brought to an end. Mr. Cowley, who. had kept silent so far from sheer as-* tonishment, now grasped him firmly*; by the collar. "You young scoundrel!" he exclaim-* ed, "how dare you speak In that man-f ner to Miss Marjorie?" i; "She's my governess; I'll say what I like to her I" was the impertinent r«4 ply. ^ "And she is my wife! And If yotr dare to say a word about her--to loofc^ at her insolently--to insult her in the smallest way--I'll give you such 4 flogging that you will never want to| utter a lady's name as long as you live! Do you hear, sir?" and he shook him in the air as a terrier shakes a. rat "Oh, my! let me go! I'll call my fa­ ther!" said the frightened boy. "Hold your tongue, you whelp! Where is the key to the garden gate?" "In the hall, sir." "Go and get it--and don't let anyone see you! Be quick!" ' ^ Julius, thoroughly subdued, ran up the steps, and in a moment reappeared with the key. "What are you going to do,Charles?" inquired Miss Marjorie, wonderingly, as he opened the gate and held out his hand to her. ^ -"I am going to take yon away with me." "Impossible." "I don't know what that word means!" "But I have not even got cm my bon­ net." "Never mind, your cloak will protect you, and we have not far to go. Into that house you shall never step again, after the specimen of your treatment I have just seen." He drew her out upon the footpath, and turned to the boy, who stood with open moijth at the gate. "Lock it, and go in," he said. ^ "But what am I to say to mother?" "Tell her that Miss Marjorie has gone away with her husabnd," was the laughing reply. "Come, my love, draw your cloak well round you. I never ran away with a lady before; but, upon my word, this eloping with one's wife is a very pleasant business!" And so, while Julius ran in with his wonderful news, and sent Mrs. Mag­ num into a fit of screaming hysterics, the strangely re-united pair walked on arm in arm right through the dark­ ness towards the haunted house. (To be continued.) 1 : REMEMBERED CJRAVE.*^# BY MARY E.WILKENS. -J HIS HORSE STOOD SENT#?* Gmt Batter stood Guard Over Sk In­ toxicated Driver.- This reads like a fairy tale, but it is true. At the sale of the late Marcus Daly's thoroughbreds William Lake­ land, one of our well known metro­ politan trainers, bought Ogden for $4,200. This is a valuable horse by Kil- warlin--Oriole, foaled in 1894, winner of the Futurity of his year and many other important events and whose family figures show twelve English Derby winners. All this just to show the kind of gentleman he is Lakeland wished him taken down to his Sheeps- head stables that night and after a talk with his foreman, Frasch, Ogden was dispatched by road in the care of a colored stable boy, to whom Lake­ land gave $5 as an inducement to take extra care of the horse. Blanket­ ed and hooded from hoofs to ear tips, Ogden serenely wended his way through the falling snow, and doubt­ less wondered if he were going back to Montana and the familiar Bitter Root farm. Later Mr. Lakeland went home and sat up hour after hour wait­ ing for the coming of his new pur- Chase, but none came. His feelings may be better imagined than describ­ ed. He loves his horses, as evinced by his wonderful success with Tea Tray and other erratic animals which he brought round to a proper state of mind. He sat up all night, sending messengers in all directions until dawn, and by that time he was ready to take up the quest himself. It was not the money that was worrying him; It was the exposure of a good horse to the Inclement weather and what the probable results might prove. Just then came a call from the telephone which sent him flying down the boule­ vard at a rapid gait The police pre­ cinct wanted to know if he had lost a horse and what he was like, reports ing that Ogden had been found by an officer standing fn the road, with the colored boy drunk at his feet. In other words, the horse was taking care of the drunken lout, as .many a horse has done beforehand will again, blesa them for it! Mr. Lakeland found Oi^pn safe and sound at the precinct, apparently very much at home, and soon had him in his own stall. As for the stable boy, Mr. Lakeland declined to bother with him. He did not want a justifiable case of assault and bat­ tery on his hands. He had Ogden and that was all he cared about.--S9.lrit.j9f the Times. 1 guess there won't be a great •how of flowers on Sylvester's grave this year," said Sarah Cook. Her voice had a certain triumph in it, but it ended in a decorous sigh. "I guess there won't, either," re­ turned her sister Mrs. Kemp. "I guess Phebe Ann is too sick to think much about it" Her voice sounded like Sarah's. Lucy Kemp dropped her sewing for a minute and turned her face toward the window. "It seems 'most too bad, don't it?" she said, meditatively. "When she's done so much every year, and thought so much about it." "I don't know as I think it's too bad," said Mrs. Kemp. "Of course I'm sorry Phebe Ann is sick, but when it comes to these flowers she's always covered Sylvester's grave with, Dec­ oration day, I guess there was a great deal of it for show. It would have seemed different if he had been In the war, but I've thought a good many times, when I've seen Sylvester's gravj with more flowers on it than any of the soldier's, that Phebe Ann had a little eye to what folks would say, for all she felt so bad." "There's the band!" cried Lucy, tt was a very %arm day for the sea­ son--almost as warm as midsummer. The windows were wide open. The two women and the girl leaned their heads out and listened. They could hear far-away music. Two little girls with their hands full of flowers ran past They're just forming down at the town hall," said Lucy. "Annie Dole and Lottie are just going." 'They came over here for flowers this morning," said her mother, "and I told 'em I hadn't any to give. All had was lilacs, besides that little early rose bush, and they'd got all the lilacs they wanted of their own, and there was only just three roses on that bush, and I could not bear to cut 'em. The procession ain't coming--the mu­ sic don't sound a mite nearer. It won't be here for an hour yet." I don't s'pose Phebe Ann's husband will lift his finger to help us, even if •he should be taken away, and he left without a chick nor child in the world," said Mrs. Kemp. Phebe Ann's husband was her own dead husband's brother, but she never •poke of him by his own name. "I wonder how much Phebe Ann's husband has got?" said Sarah Cook. "Well, I guess he's laid by a littla something. They must have, with no family!" "Mebbe he will do something if It ever happens that he ain't under any­ body else's thumb." 'It won't make any difference now. He's laid under the thumb so long that he's all flattengd out of the shape ha What Finger NalU Show. That the mental condition of a per­ son who is suffering from some physi­ cal ailment may be judged from the condition of his finger nails was re­ cently shown by Dr. Marco, an Ital ian physician, who has for some time been making investigations in this di­ rection. According to him, a patient whose nails are not quite smooth, but contain many furrows, is subject to acute diseases, which makes the nails defective. He also maintains that series of grooves will be found in the nails of those persons who are men tally unbalanced, and especially of those who are periodically afflicted by some form of mental disturbance, and that from a simple examination of the nails any skilled physician can tell how frequent and how violent the mental attacks will be. As Dr. Marco has carefully examined the nails of hundreds of patients and Is widely known as a scientist of high rank, his novel doctrine in regard to the value of nails as indicators of health is nat­ urally attracting wide attention. He that would have fine guests, let him have a fins wife.--Ben Johnson. she whis- she was said her for-- igfchr J/% si® ISMI: m n •• #ONI>BR WHO PUT THOSE FLOWERS THERE?" was made in. He used to bow Kind of sideways behind Phebe Ann's back when I met him, but he don't do that now. I met him face to face the other day, and he never looked at me. 1 don't know what poor Thomas would •ay If he was alive. I wonder what Lucy is picking lilacs for? Luey!" "What say?" Lucy's sweet, thin Toice called back. Her smooth, fair head was half hidden in a great clump of lilac busbes by the gate. She was bending the branches over and break­ ing off full purple clusters. "What you picking those lilacs for?" **I Just thought I'd pick a few." "What for? I ain't going to have any in the house! They're too sweet-- they're sicklsh!" "I ain't going to bring them into the house," said Lucy. She let a branch fly baok and went across the yard with a great bunch of lilacs ina her 'hands. "I wonder what she's up to?" said her mother. Lucy returned just before the pro­ cession passed. The cemetery was a IHtle way beyond the house. Her and annt, and a neighbor who! sum,' r" had eoDM tt itood at flw windows listening eagerly to the approaching music. Lucy joined them. The pro- cesleon filed slowly past: The Grand Army men, the - village band, the min­ isters and local dlgnitarleB, and the rear-guard of children: with flowers. An accompanying crowd thronged the sidewalks. "Tre Just been saying to Sarah that Phebe Ann won't have Sylvester's grave decked out much this year," said Mrs. Kemp. Her voice was pleas- anter and more guarded than before. "I heard Phebe Ann was pretty low," said the neighbor. Phebe Ann's husband went softly behind the nurse to the bedroom. Pheb© Ann looked up at him and beck­ oned Imperatively. He went close and bent over her. "What Is It, Phebe Ann?" said he. "Is it--Decoration day?" pered with difficulty, for growing very weak. "Yes, 'tis, Phebe Ann,' husband. "Have you got--any flowers Sylvester's grave?" "No, I ain't. I ain't thought of It, Phebe Ann, with your being so slek, and all." "Go--get some!" she panted. Her motioning hand and her eager eyes spoke louder than her tongue. "Yes, I will, I will, Phebe Ann! Don't you fret another mite about It" The nurse followed him out of the room. "I can't go to the green-house!" he whispered agitatedly. "It's five miles away!" "Land, get any kind of flowers!" said the nurse. "Get dandelions and buttercups, if you can't flnd anything else." The old man took his hat down with a bewildered air and went slowly out of the yard. At the gate he paused and looked around. There were no flowers in the yard; there were several bushes, rose and phlox, but it was too early for them to blossom. Over at the left stretched a field, and that was waving with green and gold. Phebe Ann's husband went over into the field and began pulling the buttercups in great handfulls, and the grass with them. He had all he could carry when he left the field and went sol­ emnly down the road. Sylvester's grave was at the farther side of the cemetery. The old man, with his load of buttercups and grass, made his way to it The soldiers' graves were decorated with flags and flowers, but the people had gone. The cemetery was very still. When John Kemp reached Sylvester's grave, h« started and stared. There was a great bunch of lilacs on the grave and three charming, delicate pink roses in a vase. I wonder who put those flowers there!" he muttered. He laid the but­ tercups and grass down on the grave; then he stood still. It was over twen­ ty years since the boy Sylvester had been laid there--a little soldier who had fought only his own pain. "I wonder who put those flowers there!" John Kemp muttered again. He went out of the cemetery, but Instead of turning down the road toward his own home, walked hesi­ tatingly the other way toward the house of his sister-in-law--Thomas' wife, as he always spoke of her. Lucy's face was at one open win­ dow, her Aunt &rah Cook's at the other. "Lucy!" called the old man, stand­ ing at the gate. Lucy came out to him tremblingly. Sarah Cook ran to tell her sister; she thought Phebe Ann must be dead. "Do you know who put those flow­ ers there?" asked the old man. in a husky voice. "I did," said Lucy. Her face flushed. "I thought there wouldn't be anybody to see to it, now Aunt Phebe Ann is sick," she explained timidly. Her uncle looked wistfully at her, his eyes full of tears. "Sylvester was a dreadful sufferer," he said. Lucy did not know what to say. She looked up at him, and her soft face seemed to take on distressed lines like his. The old man turned abruptly and went away. "Phebe Ann is sinking," he said, indistinctly, as he went. Lucy's mother and her aunt rushed to the door to meet her. "Is Phebe Ann dead?" Sarah Cook called out. "No, she ain't dead." "What did he want to see yon for?" asked Mrs. Kemp. Lucy hesitated; a shamefaced look came over her face. "What did ha want?" her mother asked, impera­ tively. "He wanted to know who put sons flowers on--Sylvester's grave." "Did you?" "Yes'm." "What did you put on?" "Some lilacs and--roses." "You didn't pick those roses?" "O, mother, the lilacs didn't seem quite enough! Aunt Phebe Ann has always done so much!" Lucy said. Her mother and her aunt looked at each other. "I shouldn't have thought you'd have picked those roses without saying anything about it," said her mother, but her VOICA was embar­ rassed rather than harsh. She went back to the kitchen and proceeded with her work of making biscuits for supper. The sewing was all finished. Lucy Bet the table. After supper they went out In the cemetery and strolled about looking at the flowers, in the soft, low light "Who brought all that mess of buttercups and grass. 1 won­ der?" said Sarah Cook, as they stood over Sylvester's grave. "I guess it must have been Phebe Ann's husband--it looks Jnst like a Mrs. Kemp replied. Laey f»f down on her knees and straightened the buttercups Into a bouquet "I wonder if she'll live the night out,'* said Sarah Cook, soberly. "I've listened to hear the bell toll every morning this week," said Mrs. Kemp. "I don't believe she can live much longer. I'd go up there tonight If I thought she wanted me to." The next morning Mrs. Kemp, list­ ening with her head thrust out of the window in the early sunlight, heard indeed the bell tolling for Phebe Ann "She's gone," she told Sarah Cook and Lucy; and Lucy cried. .They all went to Phebe Ann's funer­ al and followed her to the grave. Mrs. Kemp s and Sarah Cook's eyes were red when they came home. "There were a great many good things about Phebe Ann, after all," Mrs. Kemp said. "I always said there was," Sarah returned defiantly. The morning after the funeral John Kemp came to the door. Lucy .an­ swered his knock. He looked old and dejected, but he tried to smile. "I want to see you a minute," said he. "No, I can't come in--not this morn­ ing. I'm coming before long; I hope things will be different from what they have been. It was her wish. I went home that day and told Phebe Ann how yeu'd put the flowers there, and she beckoned to me to come and lean over. Then she made out to tell me. She wanted you to have Sylves­ ter's money that we put in the bank for him when he was born. It's been growing. We haven't spent any, ex­ cepting for the flowers, and Its near five hundred dollars. She wanted ma to give it to you right away, and you're going to have it just as soon as I can get it out of the bank. Phebe Ann said you could have some more schooling and not have to work so hard. And I guess you'll have more than that, too, some day, if you out­ live me. Phebe Ann, she thought mebbe I could make some arrange­ ments with your mother and aunt to come to our house and live, and take care of It. She said she didn't want any other women in there. She knew they were good housekeepers and would keep things the way she did. You tell your mother I'm coming in to see her some time before long." John Kemp went feebly down the walk, and Lucy returned to the kltch- "DO YOU KNOW WHO PUT THOSE FOLOWERS THERE?" en. The door had been ajar, and her mother and Sarah Cook had heard every word. They were both crying. "Coming just now when we didnt know which way to turn!" sobbed Sarah Cook. "Poor Phebe Ann!" "Well, there's one thing about It," said Mrs. Kemp, brokenly, "there sha'n't one Decoration day go by as long as I live, without Sylvester's grave being trimmed as handsome as if his mother was alive!"--Youth's Companion. •••••.•?*• J\. SI ION. Wa sometimes wish when we see the universal patriotic zeal that expands itself in the lavish decoration for one day of graves that during the rest of the year are consigned to oblivion, that the flood of sentiment could be crys­ tallized into something of permanent value. This may sound treasonable and will doubtless challenge the in­ quiry, "Are not the ceremonies of Memorial day of permanent value as lessons In patriotism to the rising gen­ eration?" We assent without argu­ ment, but would like to carry the mat­ ter further and make the lesson more Impressive by caring for the neglected graves during the remainder of the year. Bvery one familiar with rural life call to mind forlorn country cemeteries where weeds and wild grasses contend for supremacy and where the head-stones lean awry. Here and there a grave is tended, but these exceptions only serve to make more conspicuous the absence of ear# in the balance of the enclosure. TMs Is not necessarily an evidence that ths dead are forgotten, but rather shows a lack of organised effort The cities of the dead should be beautiful re­ treats calculated to tempt the feet of the passer-by, weary of the fret and worry of a busy world. Little or no money and not much effort is netdsl to keep a cemetery tidy, particularly In a country community where titers are always plenty of volunteers who will give time and labor to a cause that appeals to them. Why would It not be a good idea, therefore, to organise a Memorial Day Cemetery Improvement association, whose duty it would be to keep alive the spirit of remembrance and patriotism throughout the year in­ stead of allowing It to wilt with the flows-- or evaporate in fervid oratory. What Mmrirn Boasts oft In our country we have ths follow­ ing, pays 811 Correo de Sonoro: Ths WgMSt fountain in North America, Fopotifctapetl; the deepest mine in ths world, Valenciana; the richest vein in the world, and the one which has yielded the most silver, that of / tks mountain of Guanajuato; the most ex­ tensive and wonderful caves, those of Cacahuamilpa and Villa Garcia; ths oldest city in the Americas, formerly Tol|an, now Tola; the oldest commer­ cial house in America, the book store of Abadano, founded 21 years ago; ths sCity in which printing was first estab­ lished in the new world, Mexico, in 1533; the sanctuary most venerated in which only may be compared that of Lourdes in France; the people, rwhose tongue, like that of the Basques, can­ not be classified among any of ths continent, the Serl; the capital, with a higher altitude than the other cities of its country, Mexico; the biggest known tree, the "Santa Maria del Tule" In Oaxaca; the most recently created volcano, Jorullo; finally, ths ruler now in power who has done most to preserve peace in all the countries of America freed from Spanish rule. General Porflrio Diaz. r AM, D'»" Open LotMffr;', ->* ®, 111., May 20--R. H. iHnawaqr; M. D., of this place, in an open letter, makes the following startling state­ ment: "I had Diabetes with all its worst symptoms. I applied every remedy known to the profession, as well as every prescription suggested in our books. In spite of all, I was dying, and I knew it. "As a last resort, and with scarce­ ly any faith whatever, I commenced taking Dodd's Kidney Pills. In one week I saw a great improvement. After I had taken five boxes, I was sound and well. This is ten months ago, and I have not taken any medicine of any kind since, and am convinced my cure Is a permanent one. "As a practicing physician with years of experience, I most positively assert that Dodd's Kidney Pills are the best medicine in the world today, for Diabetes or any other Kidney Disease. Since using them myself, I have used them in many cases in my practice, and they have never failed. "I am making this statement as a professional man, after having made a most thorough test of Dodd's Kidney Pills, and because I feel it my duty to the public and to my professional brethren. The truth can never hurt anyone, and what I have said is then absolute truth." R. H. DUNAWAY, M. O. It Is no wonder that the public are enthusiastic over this new medicine, when our leading physicians them­ selves, are being won over to its use. War Blejrelo Kzhlbtted. One of the special bicycles built iMr' wi6 use of the British troops in South Africa which went through the cam­ paign with Gen. Ian Hamilton's col­ umn was recently exhibited in London, where its excellent condition, consider­ ing the knocking about it had received, excited general comment. England seems busy with the organization of cyclist soldiers, and many companies of wheelmen will figure in the Easter *13 M •H Do Tour VmI Aeho and Boa t Shake into your shoes, Allen's Foot- Ease, a powder for the feet. It makes tight or New Shoes feel Easy. Cures Corns, Bunions, Swollen, Hot and Sweating Feet At all Druggists and Shoe Stores, 26c. Sample sent FREE, Address Allen S. Olmsted. LeRoy, Moaqaltooa Rooted an Aria jr. When Hannibal's army descended from the Alps into the valley of Lom- bardy the whole force was well nigh routed by a plague of mosquitoes, which drove men and animals almost wild with pain. ' VH-r The Government Bnllding^M ' Pan-American Exposition is rapidly being filled and many most interest­ ing exhibits have come in. The light house exhibit is being put up. It will contain a first-order flashlight, giving twenty-four flashes at each revolution, a flash every five seconds. A pris­ matic lens will reflect rainbow colors. The light is similar to the one on Fire Island and at Great West Bay. The Burlington, Cedar Rapids A Northern Railway has got out a neat booklet descriptive of the beautiful summer resorts at Spirit and Okoboji Lakes in Northwestern Iowa. Free copies will be mailed upon application to Jno. G. Farmer, Assistant General passenger Agent, Cedar Rapids, la. "Lawn mowers are not so bad." "Why not?" "Why, when my wife wants me to hang pictures I tell her I have to out the grass."--Chicago Tissss Herald. "There's a movement afoot fn vill­ ous states to prevent any but regular physicians practicing hypnotism." "It's slightly in line with the legislation which forbids sluggers putting each other to sleep."--Philadelphia Times. 9 Tied Up When the muacles feel drawn rad tied up and the flesh tender, the* tension to - . Soreness and Stiffoess ss cold or over exercise, ft bat a short time after St Jacobs Oil la applied. Thecal* ;..to prompt and ran. Oe0eO*O< '3*1,L ̂