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T w 1 111 jbi •11 jiiî ,j""" f 7̂ 1 ANOT * V, '4 ^ 1 L \N V.S V. i^fl ILLIJSTBATIONS BY ANDRE BOWLES 3Y Cms <Scmstt£R$ £>OMS ^; - • SYNOPSIS. "f* Murray Sinclair andt his gans of wreck-. i- . srs wore called out to clear the railroad tracks at Smoky Creek. McCloud. a ypung road superintendent, caught Sin­ clair and his men in the act of looting the wrecked train. Sinclair pleaded in­ nocence, declaring it only amounted to a. small sum--.1 treat for the men. McClo'ua discharged the whole outfit and ordered the wreckage burned. McCloud became _ acquainted with Dieksie Dunning, a girl at the west, who came te look at the Wreck. "Whispering" Gordon Smith tdld President Bucks of the railroad, of Mc- Cloud's brave fight against a gang of crazed miners and that was the reason for the superintendent's appointment to . his office. McCloud arranged board at the boarding house of Mrs. Sinclair, the / ex-forenmn's deserted wife. Dieksie Dun­ ning was the daughter of the late Rich­ ard Dunning, who had died of a broken heart shortly after his wife's demise. Which occurred after one year of mar­ ried life. Smoky Creek bridge was mys­ teriously burned. President Bucks noti­ fied Smith that he had work ahead. A •jock train was wrecked by an open •witch. Later a passenger train was held up and the express car robbed. Two men £1 a pos^e pursuing the bandits were trilled. "Whispering Smith" approached Sinclair. He tried to buy him off, but railed. Hp warned McCloud that his life was in danger. McCloud was carried forcibly into I^ance Dunning's presence. Dunning refused the railroad a right-of- way, he had already signed for. Dieksie Interfered to prevent a shooting affray. .Dieksie met McCloud on a lonely trail to warn him hfs life was in danger. On his i Yay horrle a shot passed through his hat. /. A sudden rise of the Crawling Stone riv­ er created consternation. Dieksie and Ma- Flon appealed to McCloud for help. Whis- i Paring Smith joined the group. McCloud took his men to tight the river. L.ance Dunning welcomed them cordially. Mc­ Cloud succeeded in halting the flood. Dieksie and Marion visited Sinclair at his f«.nch. H«» tried to persuade his deserted wife to return to him. She refused. He accused Whispering Smith of having Stolen her love from him. A train was Ifceid up and robbed, the bandits escap­ ing. Smfih arid McCloud started In pur- Sim. At Bfiggs ranch IXi Sang killed old Bagg3% Whispering Smith befriended his ten-year-old son. They came to Williams Cache." Smith was certain the lmndit# were there. He Importuned Rebstock, *ying of the cache," to givfe up Du Sang. Rebstock refused. Smith declared he s Si00'4* out the whole gang, iuclu- Olnc Rebstock. Smith came upon the Wtnrtits, T>u San? among them. Marion grayed tbat he should come back alive. ^ J$inith learned that Sinclair. Rebatock. .and "an escaped band't had Joined forces." He #|arted after them with Wic!kwire. 5 v; 4 CHAPTER XXXV.--Continued. f u . l W h i l e t h e J o h n s o n s w e r e l a u g h i n g . Smith walked into the Blackbird. He tad lost 30 minutes, and in losing - ^em had lost his quarry. Sinclair ; bad disappeared, and Whispering ; Smith made a virtue of necessity by f inking the upsetting of his plans with ' " an unruffled face. There was but one , thing more, indeed, to do, and that / ,"%as to eat his supper and ride away. : .The street encounter had made so , 7 Wuch talk in Oroville that Smith de­ clined Gene Johnson's invitation to go •feack to the house. It seemed a con­ venient time to let any other ambi- • > Jflous rustlers make good if they were |jfllsposed to try, and Whispering Smith ." -fwent for his supper to the hotel where e Williams Cache men made their eadquarters. ;V When he rode away in the dusk his /""'°3lace was careworn. John Rebstock .•* >liad told him why Sinclair dodged; rthere were others whom Sinclair . Wanted to meet first; and Whispering ' "«®mith was again heading on a long, ,:fcard ride, and after a man on a better xllorse, back to the Crawling Stone and | $tedicine Bend. "There's others he ^ Wants to see first or you'd have no * 1 Ttrouble via- talking business to-day. You nor no other man will ever get t,. *• llim alive." But^ Whispering Smith r^' ̂ new that; See that he doesn't get you alive, ebstock," was his parting retort; "If e finds out Kennedy has got the 3"ower W money, the first thing he c£l#oes will be to piit^ the Opwio^#ll '-.jjpwr ^' *5t 44 "wAwr'mvrr . vt* A Sympathetic Ear. h .^,45 when Whispering Smith rode after , Sinclair, Crawling Stone ranch, in . , fomrnon with the whole countryside, ",:fcad but one interest in life, and that Vas to hear of the meeting. Riders Across the mountain valleys met with iV.# put one question; mail-carriers f \ brought nothing in their pouches of ' . Interest equal to the last word con- ^|%erning Sinclair or his pursuer. It .v' :,,-"Was commonly agreed through the Sountains that it would be a difficult atter to overhaul any good man v^"]%lding Sinclair's steel-dust horses, but With Sinclair himself in the saddle, ' ..v' unless it pleased hiifi to pull up, the V Cifchase was sure to be a stern one. Against this to feed speculation stood ne man's record--fjiat of the man 'who had ridden alone a dross Deep reek and brought Chuck Williams out n a buckboard. Business in Medicine Bend, mefen- .^lime, was practically suspended. As ' k^"4he center of all telephone lines the /-v big railroad town was likewise the *' 'n Renter of all rumors. Officers and sol- '_^|[iers to and from the fort, stage driv- - -. ifers and cowmen, homesteaders and Rustlers, discussed the apprehension '} Sinclair. Moreover, behind, this ef- • ' f o r t t o a r r e s t o n e m a n w h o h a d s a v - «.gely defied the law were ranged all ^ , • .tof the prejudices, sympathies, and 'j. hatreds of the high country, and prac- ;$jically the whole population tributary 4 Ho Medicine Bend and the Crawling ^ "fetone valley were friends either to .. JBinclair or to his pursuer. Behind Sin- ^clair were nearly all the cattlemen, C • $iot alone because he was on good * 4erms with the rustlers and protected Irfs friends, but because he warred bpenly oa the sheepmen. The big 1 i'"i" • I range interests, as a rule, were openly or covertly,friendly to Sinclair, while against him were the homesteaders, the railroad men, the common people and the men who everywhere hate cruelty and outrage and the making of a He. Lance Dunning had never concealed his friendliness for Sinclair, even aft­ er hard stories about him were known to be true, and it was this confidence of fellowship that made Sinclair, 24 hours after he had left OrovUle, ride down the hill trail to Crawling Stone ranchhouse. The morning had been cold, with a heavy wind and a dull sky. In the aft­ ernoon the clouds lowered over the valley and a misting rain set in. Diek­ sie had gone into Medicine Bend oh the stage in the morning, and, after a stolen half-hour with McCloud at Marion's, had ridden home to escape thfe storm. Not less, but much more, than those about her she was alive to the situation in which Sinclair stood and its danger to those closest to her. In the morning her one prayer to Mc­ Cloud had been to have a care of him­ self, and to Marion to have a care of herself; but even when Dieksie left them it seemed as if neither quite feli the peril as she felt It. In the afternoon the rain, falling steadily, kept her in the house, and she sat in her room sewing until the light failed. She went downstairs. Puss had lighted the grate in the living room, and Dieksie threw herself Into a chair. The sounds of hoofs aroused her and she went to a win­ dow. To her horror, she saw Sinclair walking with her cousin up to the front door. She ran into the dining room, and the two men entered the hall and walked into the office. Chok­ ing with excitement, Dieksie ran through the kitchen and upstairs to master her agitation. In the office Sinclair Was sitting down before the hot stove with a tumbler of whisky. "Lance,"--he shook his head as he spoke hoarsely-- "I want to say my friends have stood by me to a man, but. there's none of them treated me squarer through thick and thin than you have. Well, I've had some bad luck. It can't he helped. Regards!" He drank, and shook his wet hair again. Four days of hard riding had left no trace on his iron features. Wet to the bone, his eyes flashed with fire. He held the glassful of whisky In a hand as,! steady as a spirit-level and tossed it down a throat as cool a* dew. "I want to say another thing, Lance: I had no more intention than a child of hurting Ed Banks. I warned Ed months ago to keep out of this fight, and I never knew he was in it till it was too late. But I'm hoping he will pull through yet, If they don't kill him in the hospital to spite me. I never recognized the man at all tUl it was too late. Why, one of them used to work for me! A man with the whole railroad gang in these moun­ tains after him has got to look out for himself or his life ain't worth a glass of beer. Thank you, Lance, not any more. I saw two men, with their rifles In their hands, looking for me. I hollered at them; but. Lance, I'm rough and ready, as ail my friends know, and I will let no man put a drop on me--that I will never do. Ed, before I ever recognized him, raised his rifle; that's the only reason I fifed. Not so full. Lance, not so full, If you please. Well," he shook his biacs hair as he threw back his head; "here's to better luck in worse countries!" He paused as he swallowed, and set the tumbler down. "Lance, I'm saying good-by to the mountains." * "You're not going away for good, Mwrayr "I'm going away for good. What's the use? For two years these railroad cutthroats have been trying to put something on me; you know that. They've been trying to mix me up with that bridge-burning at Smoky creek; Sugar Buttes, they had me there; Tower W--nothing would do but I was there, and they've got one of the men in jail down there now, Lance, trying to sweat enough perjury out of him to send me up. What show has a poor man got against all the money there is in the country? I wouldn't be afraid of a jury of my own neighbors--the men that know me, Lance--any time. What show would I have with a packed jury in Medicine Bend? I could explain anything I've done to the satisfaction of any reason­ able man. I'm human, Lance; that's, all I say. I've been mistreated and I don't forget it. They've even turned my wife against me--as fine a woman as ever lived." Lance ftWor* sympathetically. "There's go<ra stuff In you yet. Mar- ray." • "I'nr going to say good-by to the mountains," Sinclair went on, grimly, "but I'm going to Medicine Bend to­ night and tell the man that has hounded me what I think of -him be­ fore I leave. I'm going to give my wife a chance to do what is right and go with me. She's been' poisoned against me--I know that; but if she does what's fair and square there'll be no trouble--no trouble at all. All I want. Lance, is a square deal. What ?" Dieksie with her pulses throbbing at. fever-heat heard the words. She stood half-way down the stairs, trem­ bling as she listened. Anger, hatred, the spirit of vengeance, choked in her throat at the sinister words. She longed to stride Into the room and confront the murderer and call down retribution on his head. It was no fear" of him that restrained her, for the Crawling Stone girl never knew fear. She would have confronted him and denounced him, but prodaence checked her angry impulse. She knew what he meant to do--to ride into Medlctne Bend under cover of the storm, murder the two he hated, and escape in the night; and she resolved he should never succeed. If she could only get to the telephone! But the telephone was in the room where he sat. He was saying good-bv. Hei cousin was trying to dissuade him from riding out Into the storm, but he was going. The door opened; the men went out on the porch, and it closed. Dieksie, lightly as a shadow, ran into the office and began ringing Medicine Bend on the telephone. „ „;, . CHAPTER XXXVIW Dicksi«*g>ltld«. Wlkbtt Lance Dunning entered the room ten minutes later Dieksie stood at the telephone; but the ten minutes of that interval had made quite an­ other creature of his cousin. „ The wires were down and no one from any quarter gave a response to her frantic ringing. Through the receiver she such thing," he growled, curtly. "And to kill George McCloud, Si he can." t He stared without reply, ' "You heard him say so," persisted Dieksie, vehemently. Lance crossed his legs and threw back the brim of his hat. "McCloud is nobody's fool. He will look out for himself." ~ "These fiendish wire§j to Medicine Bend are down. Why hasn't this line been repaired?" she „£ried, wringing her hands. "There is no way to give warning to any one that he is coming, and you have let him go!'" Lance whirled in his chair. "Dam­ nation! Could I keep him frOm go­ ing?" ' "You did not Want to; you are keep­ ing out of trouble. What do you care whom he kills to-night!" "You've gone crazy, Dieksie. Your imagination has upset your reason. Whether he kills anybody to-night or not, it's too late now to make a row about it," exclaimed Lance, throwing his cigar angrily away. "He won't kill us." "And you expect me to sit by and -'•fold my hands while that wretch sheds more blood, do you?" "It can't be helped," *T say it can be helped! I can help it--I will help it--as you could have done if you had wanted to. I will ride to' Medicine Bend to-night and help it." Lance jumped to his feet, with a string of oaths. "Weil, this is the lim­ it!" He pointed his finger at h ^ the rain beating tier burning face and' her horse leaping fearfully into the wind. No man could have kept the trail to the pass that night. The horse took it as U the path flashed in sunshine, and Swung into the familiar stride that had parried her so many times over the 20 miles ahead of them. The storm driving into Dicksie's face cooled her. Every moment she recol­ lected herself better, and before her mind all the aspects of her venture ranged themselves. She had set herself to a race, and against her rode the hardest in the mountains. She had set herself to what few men on the range would have dared and what no other woman on the range could do. A gu3t drove into her face. They were already at the head of the pass, and the horse, with level ground underfoot, was falling into the long reach; hut the wind was colder. Dieksie lowered her head and gave Jim the rein. She realised how wet she was; her feet and her knees were wet. She had no protection but her skirt? .though the meanest rider on all her countless acres would not have braved a mile on such'a night without leather and fur. The great lapels of her riding-jacket, reversed, were but­ toned tight across her shoulders, and the double fold, of fur lay warm and dry against her heart and lungs; but her hands were cold, and her skirt dragged leaden and cold from her waist, and water soaked in upon her chilled feet. ^ Slv'e became conscious * of how fast she was going. Instinct, made ke£n by thousands of saddle miles, told Dieksie of her terrific pace. She was riding faster than she would have dared go at noonday and without thought or fear of accident. In spite of the sliding and the plunging down the long hill, the storm and the dark­ ness brought no thought of fear for herself; her only fear was for those ahead. In supreme moments a horse, like a man when human efforts be­ come superhuman, puts the lesser dan­ gers out of reckoning, and the facul­ ties, set on a single purpose, though strained to the breaking-point, never brgak. Low In her saddle, Dieksie tried to reckon how far they had come and how much lay ahead. She could feel her skirt stiffening about her knees, and the rain beating at her face was sharper; she knew the sleet as It stung her cheeks, and knew What next was coming--the snow. There was no need to urge Jim. He had the rein and Dieksie bent down to speak to him, as she often spoke when they were alone on the road, when Jim, bolting, almost threw her. Recovering instantly, she knew they were no longer alone. She rose alert In her seat. Her straining eyes could see nothing. Was there a sound in the wind? She held her breath to lis­ ten, but before she could apprehend Jim leaped violently ahead. Dieksie screamed !n an agony of terror. She knew then that she had passed anoth­ er rider, and so close she might have touched him. Fear froze her to the saddle; It Ifnt wings to her horse. The speed "be­ came Wild. Dieksie knit herself to her dumb companion and a prayer choked in her throat. She crouched lest a bullet tear her from her horse; but through the darkness no bullet came, only the sleet, stinging her face, stiffening her gloves, freezing her hair, chilling her limbs, ai)d weighting her like lead on her struggling horse. She knew not even Sinclair could overtake her no*--th*t no living man could lay a hand on her bridlo-rein--and she pulled Jim in down the winding hills to save him for the long flat. When they struck it they had but'four miles to go. Across the flat the wind drove la fury. Reflection, thought and reason were beginning to leave her. She was crying to herself quietly as she used to cry when she lost herself, a mere child, riding among the hills. She was praying meaningless words. Snow purred softly on her cheeks. The cold was soothing her senses. Unable at last to keep her seat on the horse, she stopped him, slipped stiffly to the ground, and, struggling through the wind as she held fast to the bridle and the horn, half walked and half ran to start the blood through her benumbed veins. She struggled until she could drag her mired feet no farther, and tried to draw herself b»ck into the saddle. It was almost beyond her. She sobbed and screamed at her help* lessness. At last she managed to climb flounderingly back into her seat, and, bending her stiffened arms to Jim's neck, she moaned and cried to him. When again she could hold her seat no longer, she fell to the horse's side, dragged herself along In the frozen slush, and, screaming with the pain of her freezing hands, drew her­ self up into the saddle. She knew that she dare not venture this again--that if she did so she could never remount. She felt now that she should never live to reach Medicine Bend. She rode on and on and on--would It never end? Then came a sound like the beating of great drums in her ears. It was the crash of Jim's hoofs on the river bridge, and she was in Medicine Bend. A horse, galloping low and heavily, slued through the snow from Fort street into Boney, and, where it had so often stopped before, dashed up on the sidewalk in front of th« little shop. The shock was too much ftr lta unconscious rider, and, shot hesAtong from her saddle, Dieksie was f>ng bruised and senseless against on's door. By Lydia E. Pinkhatfl's Vegetable Compound Gardiner, Maine.--MI hare been m great sufferer from organic trouble# 1 and a severe female w e a k n e s s . T h e doctor saidl would have to go to the hospital for an ope ration, bat 1 could not bear to think of it. I de­ cided to try Lydia E. I>inkham!fs Veg­ etable Compound and Sanati ve Wash --and was entirely cured after thxe* months' use of them."--Mrs. S« A. WILLIAMS, R. F. D. No. 14, Boat S8^ Gardiner, Me. No woman should submit to a surgi­ cal operation, which may mean death, until she has given Lydia E. Pinkham'f Vegetable Compound, made exclusive ly from roots and herbs, a fair trial. This famous medicine for women has for thirty years proved to be the most valuable tonic and renewer of the female organism. Women resid­ ing in almost every city and town in the United States bear willing testi- mony to the wonderful virtue of Lydia E. Finkham's Vegetable Compound. It cures female ill's, and create® radi­ ant, buoyant female health. If W# are ill, for your own sake as well AS those you Love, give it a trial. Mrs. Ptakbam, at Lynn, Mass ̂ Invites all sick women to write ber for advice. I ter advice is frMt and always helpful. WAS IN NO HURRY TO LEAVE Dieksie Gave Jim the fTeln. could hear only the sweep of the rain and the harsh crackle of the wind. Sometimes praying,sometimes fainting and sometimes despairing, she stood clinging to the Instrument, ringing and pounding upon it like One fren­ zied. Lance looked at her in amaze­ ment. "Why, God a'mlghty, Dieksie, what's the matter?" He called twice to her before she turned, and her words almost stunned him: "Why did you not detain Sin­ clair here to-night? Why did you not arrest him?" Lance's sombrero raked heavily to one side of his face, and one end of his mustache running up much higher on the other, did not begin to express his astonishment. "Arrest him? Ar­ rest Sinclair? Dieksie, are you crazy? Why the devil should I arrest Sin­ clair? Do you suppose I am going to mix up in a fight like this? Do you think I want to get killed? The level­ headed man In this country, just at present, is the man who can keep out of trouble, and the man who succeeds, let me tell you, has got more than plenty to do." Lance, getting no answer but a fierce, searching gaze from Dicksie's wild eyes, laid his hand on a chair, lighted a cigar, and sat down before the fire. Dieksie dropped the tele­ phone receiver, put her hand to her girdle, and looked at him. When she spoke her tone was stinging. "You know that man is going to Medicine Bend to kill his wife!" Lance took the cigar from his mouth and returned her look. "I know no1 "Dieksie Dunning, you* won't stir out of this house to-night." » „ Her face hardened. "How dare you speak in that way to me? Who are you, that you order me what to do, where to stay? Am I your cowboy, to be defiled with your curses?" He looked at her in amazement. She was only 18; he wpuld still face her down. "I'll tell you who I am. I am master here, and you will do as I tell you. You will ride to Medicine Bend to-night, will you?" He struck the table with his clinched fist. "Do you hear me? I say, by God, not a horse shall leave this ranch in this storm to-night to go anywhere for anybody or with anybody!" "Then I say to you this ranch is my ranch, and these horses are my horses! From this hour forth I will or­ der them to go and come when and where I please!" She stepped toward him. "Henceforward I am mistress here. Do you hear me? Henceforward I give orders In Crawling Stone house, and every one under this roof takes orders from me!" "Dieksie, what do you mesa? For God's sake, you're not folitf to try to ride--" She swept from the room. What happened afterward she could never recall. Who got Jim for her or wheth­ er she got the horse up herself, what was said to her in low, kindly words of warning by the man at Jim's neck when she sprang into the saddle, who the man was, she could not have toll All she felt at last was that she was free and out under the black sky, with CHAPTER XXXVIH, At the Door. She wo*ke in a dream of hoofs beat Ing at her brain. Distracted words fell from her lips, and when she opened her swollen eyes and saw those about her she could only scream. j Marion had called up the stable, but the stablemen could only tell her that Dicksie's horse, in terrible condition, had come in riderless. While Barn» hardt, the railway surgeon, at th% bedside administered restorative^ Marion talked with him of Dicksie's sudden and mysterious coming. £)ioft> sle, lying In pain and quite conscious, heard all, but, unable to explain, moaned in her helplessness. She heard Marion at length tell the doctor that McCloud was out of town, and the news seemed to bring back her senses. Then, rising in the bed, while the surgeon and Marfon coaxed her to lie down, she clutched at their arms and, looking from one to the ether, told her story. When it was done she swooned, but she woke te hear voices at the door of the Bhop. She heard as if she dreamed, but at the door the words were. dread reSWty. Sinclair had made good his word, i*v4 had come out of the storm with a sunv mons upon Marion and it was the sui* geon who threw open the door and saw Sinclair standing in the snow. CTO BE CONTINUE®:) , ^ JJUTJ-LTJIJJLi u'W^rrsiririrri- *imm Delight to Weary Travelei Green Gardens of Damascus Rest the . Eye After Long Journey Through the Desert. The chief attractions at Duoascus are the world-famed gardens which surround the city, the glimpse we get of oriental life as found in the bazars, fine streets, the shops, and last, hut by no means of less interest, the fa­ mous mosque of Omclades. One hundred and fifty square miles of green lie in compact order round about Damascus, spread out with all the profusion of a virgin forest Or­ chards and flower gardens, parks, plantations of corn and of other prod­ uce pass before the eye in rapid and changeable succession. The natives claim that there are more than 3,000 miles of shady lanes in the gardens of Damascus through which it is possi­ ble to ride. On such a ride the visitor passes orchards of figs and orchards of apricots. For hedges there is the briar rose and for a canopy the wal­ nut. Pomegranate blossoms glow through the shade; the vine boughs trail across the briars; a little water­ fall breaks on the edge of the road. and all this water and leafage are sv lavish that the broken mud walls anfl slovenly houses have no power to vea the eye. These long gardens of Da­ mascus form the paradise of the Arab world. Making a pilgrimage to the city after weeks and months of dreary and desolate desert life, the running water is a joy to his sight and musio to his ears, and it is something to walk through shady lanes, to admire the variety of landscape and the beau* ty of scenery in a land where the sun beats down all day with unremitting force until the earth is like a furnace of iron beneath a sky of molten brass. --Biblical World. Prisoner Put Coming Gastronomic Joy Ahead of a Brief f^Od'Tr *3 || of Liberty. / r, • A colored man from Georgia had ; | lived in Washington but a few year* -* J when he was arrested for some slight '.J violation of the city ordinances. Upon M hearing that the negro was in jail, the secretary of the colored Y. M. C. A. secured the services of a minister te go with him and sign the prisoner's bail bond. They reached the jail shortly before noon, and told the negro the object of their visit. la re» sponse to the proffered kindness few X said: t "Mistaii Johnslng,: I sho Is glad yoli-"a":. ail is gwine tah git me out, but Z wants you-all to fix It so I can't git out till late dis evenin'." ' Of course the two Samaritans were \ somewhat taken aback by this u«u»- ual request. But -a moment later they lost their breath when, in answer to the secretary's question, the Georgia negro replied in a whisper: "Well, sah, dey's a-gittin* dinnah ready, an' dey's cookln' greens; an' I sho would like to git some o' dem greeps bgfo" I leabes dis place! '--L^- ptncOttl. " ' * - • >< POOR BOY. "Dear me!' Why do you cry so bit­ terly?" "I'm cryin' 'cause I'm so wicked jjtat I'm goin' ter play hookey, Instead*# goin' ter school, boo hoo!" Dorothy ana the btork. When little Dorothy Walworth was introduced to her baby brother la the ^ First Methodist Episcopal parsonage in Yonkers, N. Y.. she manifested In­ tense Interest, but was not ished. "I knew he was coming." claimed; "I knew it" Pressed for an explanation, the five- year-old said: "I was down te the Bronx zoo the other day and saw the stork in his cage. I recognized him by the black stripes tat his wings that papa said were there. Well, when the stork was standing alone on one leg. I went close to him and whispered in his ear that I wanted him to bring me a baby brother or sister. He ddin't say anything, but I knew he would do it. because he bent his head toward me and winked an eye." i - \ Queer Freah of Natwa A picture of a young and beautiful woman, attired in the latest fashion, Is the freak of nature that William Stevenson, living on one of Joseph J. White's cranberry hags, near Haa over, N. J., has found in an ordinary egg. He is at a loss to account few the presence of the picture In the egg; and all the scientists consulted thus far have failed to give any explana> tlon. d= , . ,r" :JTurkish Day of Rejoicing, *" ospitable Welcome Accorded to All During the Month ef Ramazan. Every»ye*r in Turkey. 4a t»e mo» if Ramazan, as they term it--which '• .> - Ihe month when the Koran was re F " ) Sealed, in 2G parts, to Mohammed-- for years a general custom la ^ ^Turkey tor the Turks to open theii set time, to strangers and anyone was permitted to enter and take supper, a meal the Turks call oviftar, during Ramasan. No matter how poor or how rich the persons, and whether a complete stranger or near friend, they come just before the sunset hour, and all are seated at truly hospitable table before 12 o'clock. Immediately after sunset the Turks teat either an 6llve or a .date, It being the legend that the holy prophet did this, and those who smoke may begin as soon as the date or olive, supposed to be the fruits of paradise, disappears. Then come Jel­ lies, as it is a belief In Turkey that sweets "collect the senses," whatever that may mean. Oddly enough, soups follow the sweets, and then arier thai eggs cooked In butter are served, fol­ lowed in turn by mutton chops or roasted meat; these are succeeded, by podding, called this the famous sort of sugarless beurek, and after baclava Or kadaif. After all this more meat courses, fish, and vegetables are served, and such sweets as rice milk (gullaj sud- laj), native blanc mange (mahallebl). pllaf with hlshad or Junket (yaourt) and cottee. . V'-i-vr---- -- ::j$, Forget it« * f We owe inuch to our "ability to 'far- Good--If True. A Jersey commuter sayi that the other day his wife hired a Swedish carpenter to repair some blinds on the outside of the house. When he was at work on a ladder propped up against the side of the building the madame went out to see how he was getting on. "Is there anything you need, Mr. gwenson?" she asked. The carpenter gulped once or twice, but made no reply. The lady repeated the Again a gulp, but no answer. "Why don't you answer me, sir!" said the madame, indignantly. The Swede turned and looked dowa at her gravely. . "My mout* is full nt sgrews," ha said. "I cannot speag undid I sdafc ler some!" innocent. "Clifford," asked the teacher, "whe wrote the Junius letters?** "I--1 doat know, ma'am," answers* tka terrified I little hoy. "I dldn'tr - Only for it, education must hati made fools of us long ago.--Fuck. -5 rsMM A BANKER'S NERVE % . Broken by CofTee and Restore ̂ If ̂ Postum. *• * *.• " $'4 V{': A banker needs perfect' control liF * the nerves, and a clear, quick, accu­ rate brain. A prominent banker oi Chattanooga tells how he keeps him­ self In condition: "Up to 17 years of age I was aot, allowed to drink coffee, but as sooa as I got out in the world I begau to use it and grew very fond of It. For some years I noticed no bad effects from Ma use, but in time it began to affect me unfavorably. My hands trembled, the muscles of my face twitched, my men­ tal processes seemed slow and in other ways my system got out of order. These contiiuous grew au Iwu at l&fii that I had to give up coffee altogether. "My attention having been draw* to Postum, I began its use on leaving off the coffee, and it gives me pleasure to testify to Its value. I find it a delicious beverage; like it just as well as I did coffee, and during the years that I have used Postum I have been free from the distressing symptoms that ac­ companied the use of coffee. The nerv­ ousness has entirely disappeared, and I am as steady of hand as a hoy of 25, though I am more than 9* years old. I owe all this to Postum.** "There's a Reason." Read the Uttle book. "The Road to WeUvlUe," Ift pkgs. Grocers sell. • Em rw< the »»•*• rtttM tlM* t» tta» trw#» *•< •* f/>