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

',w «*aw iH*« yP»pwii»w»j,I f % 5 ^ ~ . n f f * - , \ «*vf> - , ' i,*® <* VM v, \\.± •'yl-•- - •»',• •?>' ,•••]!* i-'-;•'••*<"#, -•• " ; .'- !" "- • ^ ;..., ' ••' .""->• 1 ^ T ' .'J' J j " ,u# • • .' '1 lyf*.-.' f ' j •y'T ?v*4 w- T. HABION Crawford AUTHOR OF "JARACmseA" "ARUHU^A"fTTJlC. iLm&mmsjjf a.w&L* m: "",-r &VJr.JaJLOJ*it4 ojtjtwjrajta " w ::: .f*fX.04#*T JOG* OAAWSXM s - : • . % % A S Y N O P S I S . •&» V> -r *••&? - ,o, <>1 ,$:.- Baraka, a Tartar girl, became enamored Mf** a golden bearded stranger who waa \. prospecting and studying herbs., in the i ' v Vicinity of her home in central Asia, and j:.;. ireveaied to him the location of a mine V * of rubies hoping that the stranger would ?. r love Jier in return for her disclosure. - i'T""They were followed to the-cave by the <% ." ,. *lrl'3 relatives, who blocked up the en- -;r »•"' trance, and drew oft the water supply, ' "*~v.vlntj the couple to die. Baraka'* cousin <3, her betrothed, attempted to climb th' iawn a clift overlooking the mine; but him. The stranger waa revived from a water gourd Saad car- ems she could carry, and started in pur- ult. Margaret Donne (Margarita da ,'ordova), a famous prima donna, became rig-aged la London to Konstantln Lo- j'otheti, a wealth? Greek financier. Her nttmate friend was Countess Leven, ,,Known as T^ady Maud, whose husband jnad been killed by a bomb in St. Peters- Imrgr; and Lady Maud's most Intimate i'friend was Rufus Van Torp. an Amerl- T v $ean, who had been a cowboy In early *lfe, but had become one of the richest v- v; tnen in the world. Van Torp was in love jgj&r . jrtth Margaret, and rushed to Loodoa as » as he heard of her betrothal. "You have sold the Nickel Trust?" Tjpii Sn' I to the pocket of his white, waistcoat. . :*'It's only a funny little bit of glass ^ picked up," he continued, producing ^ J;^a small twist of stiff writing paper. "You needn't think It's so very fine! But it's a pretty color, and when you're out of mourning I daresay you'll make a hatpin of it I like hand­ some hatpins myself, you know." He had untwisted the paper while speaking, it lay open in the palm of his hand, and Lady Maud saw a stone of the size of an ordinary hazel nut, '^irery perfectly cut, and of that won- f !5|j£ iderful transparent red color which is " fKnown as "pigeon's blood," and which It is almost impossible to describe. Bunllght shining through Persian rose- leaf sherbet upon white silk makes a little patch of color that is perhaps ^.snore like it than any other shade of I fed, but not many Europeans have ever > s $.«e«n that, and it is a good deal easier .yto go and look at a pigeon's blood >'^;%uhy in a Jeweler's window. % "What a beautiful color!" ex­ claimed Lady Maud Innocently, after a moment. "I didn't know they imi­ tated rubles so well, though, of course, I know nothing about it. If it were not an impossiblity, I should take it for a real one." . , "So should I," assented Mr. Van Torp quietly. "It'll make a pretty hat­ pin anyway. Shall I have It mounted for you?" "Thanks, awfully, but I think I should like to keep it as it is for a little while. It's such a lovely color, Just as it is. Thank you so much! Do tell me where you got It." "Oh, well, there was a sort of a traveler came to New York [the other day selling them what they call prlv- / ately. I guess he must be a Russian < Sf^or something, for he has a kind of an .«ft>ff look of your husband, only he 5 Vjwears a beard and an eyeglass. It t V/imust be about the eyes. Maybe the I ^forehead, too. He'll most likely turn i, t- fjup in London one of these days to sell S^*>fchis invention, or whatever it is." jf; 4b Lady Maud said nothing to this, but c\ «he took the stone from his hand, j' ^\|ooked at it some time with evident r *<(ft|adniiration, and then set it down on ' • Its bit of paper, upon a little table "jby the end of the sofa pi-lC "I' I were you, I wouldn't leaye it ^ y laround much," observed Mr. Van Torp " - Carelessly. "Somebody might take a kj/ - fancy to it. The color's attractive, see. and it looks like real." "Oh, I'll be very careful of it, never -fear! I can't tell you how much 1 M .Jlike it!" She twisted it up tightly in /a; _ its bit of paper, rose to her feet, and • ^>ut it away in her writing table. % •. 3* "It'll be a sort of souvenir of the old Jfickel Trust," said her friend, watch- her with satisfaction. "Have you really sold out all your terest in it?" she asked, sitting flown again: and now that she re­ turned to the question her tone showed ffchat she had not yet recovered from Jier astonishment. That's what I've done. I always old you I would, when I was ready. rf : w. , '",7Why <lo you look so surprised? Would ® V:i|jrc Lady Maud shook her head and her rou rather I hadn't?" "I can hardly Imagine yon without the Nickel Trust that's all! What In the world shall you do with your­ self?" "Oh, various kinds of things. 1 think I'll get married, for one. Then I'll take a rest and sort of look around. Maybe something will turn up. I've concluded to win the Derby next year--that's something anyway." "Rather! Have yoti thought of any­ thing else?" She laughed a little, b;«t was grave the next moment, for she knew him much too well to believe that he had taken Buch a step out of caprice, or a mere fancy for change. He noticed the grave look and was silent for a few moments. "The Derby's a side show," fef Add at last. Tve esse over to get mar iw *w>U dm, Do you belie v« shell be miserable with Logothetl or not?" "I think she will," Lady Maud an­ swered truthfully. "But I may be wrong." "No; you're right I know It. But marriage Is a gamble anyway, as you know better than any one. Are you equally sure that she would be mis­ erable with me? Dead sure, I mean." "No, I'm not sore. But that's not a reason--** "It's a first-rate reason. I care for that lady, and I want her to be happy, and as you admit that she will have a better chance of happiness with me than with Logotheti, I'm going to marry her myself, not only because I want to, but because it will be a long sight better for her. See? No fault in that line of rcssouiag, there?" "So far as Reasoning goes--" Lady Maud's tone was half an admission. " "That's all I wanted you to say," interrupted the American. "So that's settled, and you're going to help me." "No," answered Lady Maud quietly; *1 won't help you to break off that en­ gagement. But if it should come to CHAPTER II.--Continued. Lady Maud laid her left hand affec­ tionately on the man's right, which . <was uppermost on hers, and her Toice rippled with happiness. "1^ you had only said a lark instead a hen, Rufus!" she laughed. \ ^ "We could get along a lot better "^"without larks than without hens," an- iswered her friend philosophically. L '^."'But I'll make it a nightingale next ^'"f'ame, if I can remember, or a bald * .*,:<«agle, or any bird that strikes you as P*$"icheerful." ;VC The terrible mouth had relaxed ai- 'Sj^-jmost to gentleness, and the fierce blue INeyes were suddenly kind as they looked into the woman's face. She led him to an old-fashioned sofa, their hands rted, and they sat down side by ide. Cheerful," he said, in a tone ot re­ flection. "Yes, I'm feeling pretty cheerful, and it's all over and set- ""*^~!iled." . "Do you mean the trouble you were In last spring?" "N--no--not that, though it wasn't as funny as a Sunday school treat while it lasted, and I was thankful \iwhefl. it was through. It's another ^matter altogether that I'm cheerful k -about--besides seeing you, say dear. 'i ' Jjl've done it, Maud. I've done it at g" . "What?" ' ' r ' . . "I've sold my Interest in the Trust. <2t won't be made known for some ;. ...."'^jtime, so don't talk about it, please. <; a^But It's settled and done, and I've got 't "the money.' ,1 Lady Maud's lips remained parted ,,f surprise. V| "And I've bought you a little pres- |i.«nt with the proceeds," he answered, >•> / ; " .voice rippled delictoa^r w At an-. Hwered: A f/ S Y i V^vwl \ 6. € tune between his t»eth mad his open Hps, without quite whistling. "Well--" he said aloud, in a tone of doubt, after a minute or two. But he said no more, for he was much too reticent and sensible a per­ son to talk to himself audibly even when he was alone, and much too cau­ tious to be sure that a servant might not be within hearing, though the door was shut. He stood before the win­ dow nearly a quarter of an hour, think­ ing that Lady Maud might come back, but as no sound of any step broke the silence he understood that he was not to see her again that day, and he quietly let himself out of the house and went off, not altogether discon­ tented with the extraordinary impres­ sion he had made. Lady Maud sat alone upstairs, so absorbed in her thoughts that she did not hear the click of the lock as he opened and shut the front door. She was much more amazed at her­ self than surprised by the offer he had made. Temptation, in any reasonable sense of the word, had passed by her in life, and she bad never before un­ derstood what it could mean to her. She was eight-and-twenty years of age and a widow, and now it came to her suddenly in a shape of tre­ mendous strength, through her trusted friend, who had helped her for years to help others. It was real tempta­ tion. The map who offered her a mil­ lion pounds to save miserable wretches from a life of unspeakable horror, could ofter twice as much, four, five, or ten millions perhaps. No one knew the vast extent of his wealth, and in" an age of coloisal fortunes she had often heard his spoken of with the half-dozen greatest. "You can do quite a great deal of good with forty thousand pounds a year." Van Torp's rough-hewn speech rang through her head, and somehow its reckless grammar gave it strength mother's old American friend, the ex cellent Mrs. Rushmore, with whom she meant to go to Bayreuth to hear "Parsifal" for the first time. Mrs. Rushmore had disapproved pro­ foundly of Margaret's career, from the first After Mrs. Donne's death, she had taken- the forlorn girl under her protection, and had encouraged her to go on with what she vaguely called her "music lessons." The good lady was one of those dear, old-fashioned, kind, delicate-minded and golden- hearted American women we may never see again, now that "progress" has got civilization by the throat and is squeezing the life out of it She called Margaret her "chickabiddy" and spread a motherly wing over her, without the least idea that she wai rearing a valuable lyric nightingale that would not long be content to trill and quaver unheard. immense and deserved success had half reconciled the old lady to what had happened, and after all Margaret had not married an Italian tenor, a Russian prince, or a Parisian com­ poser, the three shapes of man which seemed the most dreadfully immoral to Mrs. Rushmore. She would find it easier to put up with Logotheti than with one of those, though it was bad enough to think of her old friend's daughter marrying a Greek instead of a nice, clean Anglo-Saxon, like the learned Mr. Donne, the girl's father, or the good Mr. Rushmore, her la­ mented husband, who had been an up­ right pillar of the church in New m i" "What a Beautiful Color 1' rled, and 1 want yoti to help me. Will you?" . "Can It" Mked Lady Mated, evas­ ively. "Yes, you can, and I believe there'll be trouble unless you do." "Who is she? Do I know her?" She was trying to put off the evil moment "Oh, yes, you know her quite wall. It's Mme. Cordova." "But she's engaged to Mans. Logo­ theti--" "I don't care. I mean to marry her If she marries any one. He shan't have her anyway." "But I cannot deliberately help you to break off her engagement! It's im­ possible!" "See here," answered Mr. Van Torp. "You know that Greek, aift you know me. Which of us will make the best husband for an English girl? That's what Mme. Cordova is, after all. I put it to you. If you were forced to choose one of us yourself, which would you take? That's the way to look at it" "But Miss Donne is not 'forced' to take one of you--" "She's going to be. It's the same. Besides, I said 'if.' Won't you answer me?" "She's in love with Mons. Logo­ theti," said Lady Maud, rather desper­ ately. "Is she, now? I wonder. I don't much think so myself. He's clever and he's obstinate, and he's just made her think she's in love, that's all. Any­ how, that's not an answer to my ques­ tion. Other things being alike, if she had to choose, which of us would be the best husband for her?--the better, I mean. You taught me to say "bet­ ter,' didn't you?" Lady Maud tried to smile. "Of two, yes," she answered. "You are forcing my hand, my dear friend," she went on very gravely. "You know very well that I trust you with all my heart If it were possible to Imagine a case in which the safety of the world could depend on my choosing one of you for my husband, you know very well that I should take you, though I never was the least little bit in love with you, any more than you ever were with me." "Well, but if you would, die ought" argued Mr. Van Torp. "It's for her own good, and as you're a friend of hers, you ought to help her to do what's good for her. That's only fair. If she doesn't marry me, she's cer­ tain to marry that Greek, so it's a forced choice, it appears to me.** "But I can't--" "She's a nice girl. Isn't sheT* "Yes, very." "And you like her, don't you?" "Very much. Her father waa ay te­ ther's best friend." "I don't believe la atavism," ob­ served the American, "but that's neith­ er here war there. Yon know what nothing, without your Interfering-- that is, by the girl's own free will and choice and change of mind, I'd help you to marry her if I could." "But you admit that she's going to be miserable," said Van. Torp stub­ bornly. Tm sorry- for her, but it's none of my business. It's not honorable to try and make trouble between en­ gaged people, no matter how 111* matched they may be." "Funny idea of honor," observed the American, "that you're bound to let a friend of jrours break her neck at the very gravel pit where you were nearly smashed yourself! In the hunt­ ing field you'd grab her bridle if she wouldn't listen to you, but in a mat­ ter of marriage--oh, no! 'It's dishon­ orable to interfere,' 'She's made her choice and she must abide by it,* and all that kind of stuff!" Lady Maud's clear eyes met his angry blue ones calmly. , "I don't like you when you say such things," she said, lowering her voice little. "I didn't mean to be rude," an­ swered the millionaire, almost hum­ bly. "You see I don't always know. I learnt things differently from what you did/ I suppose you'd think it an insult if I said I'd give a large sum of money to your charity the day I mar ried Mme. Cordova, if you'd help me through." "Please stof." Lady Maud's face darkened visibly. "That's not like you." "Ill give a million pounds sterling," said Mr. Van Torp slowly. Lady Maud leaned back in her cor­ ner of the sofa, clasping her hands rather tightly together In her lap. Her white throat flushed as when the light of dawn kisses Parian marble, and the fresh tint in her cheeks deepened soft­ ly; her lips were tightly shut, her eyelids quivered a little, and she looked straight before her across the room. "You can do a pretty good deal with a million pounds," said Mr. Van Torp, after the silence had lasted nearly half a minute. "Don't!" cried Lady Maud, In an odd voice. "Forty thousand pounds a year," ob­ served the millionaire thoughtfully. "You could do quite a great deal of good with that couldn't you?" "Don't! Please don't!" She pressed her hands to her ears and rose at the same instant Per­ haps it was she, after all, and not her friend who had been brought suddenly to a great cross-road in life. She stood still one moment by the sofa without looking down at her com­ panion; then she left the room abriiptly, and shut the door behind her. 4 Van Torp got up from his seat slow­ ly when she was gone, and went to the window, softly blowing a queer > f I # A 3 V Went to the Window, Softly Blowing a Queer Tune. and made it stick in her memory, word for word. In the drawer of the writ­ ing table before which she was sitting there?, was a little file of letters that meant more to her than anything else in the world, except one dear memory. They were all from rescued women, they all told much the same little story, and it was good to read. She had made many failures, and some terrible ones, which she could never forget; but there were real successes, too, there were over a dozen of them now, and she had only been at work for three years. If she had more money, she could do more; if she had much she could do much; and she knew of one or two women who could help her. What might she not accom­ plish in a lifetime with the vast sum her friend offered her!--the price of hindering a marriage that was almost sure to turn out badly, perhaps as badly as her otfn!--the money value of a compromise with her conscience on a point of honor which many wom­ en would have thought very vague In­ deed, if not absurd in such a case. She knew what temptation meant now, and she was to know even better before long. The prima donna had said that she was going to marry Lo­ gotheti chiefly because he insisted on it. The duel tor Margaret's hand had begun; Van Torp had aimed a blow that might well give him the advan­ tage if it went home; and Logotheti himself was quite unaware of the skillful attack that threatened his hap­ piness. .. trust CHAPTER III, York, and the president of a company that could be trusted. After all, though she thought all Greeks must be what she called "de­ signing," the name of Konstantln Lo­ gotheti was associated with every­ thing that was most honorable in the financial world, and this impressed Mrs. Rushmore very much. Logotheti was undoubtedly consid* ered honest, and Mrs. Rushmore made quite sure of it, as well as of the fact that he had an immense fortune. At Versailles, with its memories of her earlier youth, the prima donna wished to be Margaret Donne again, and to forget for the time that she was the Cordova, whose name was al­ ways first on the opera posters in New York, London and Vienna. She traveled incognito. That Is to say, she had sent her jirst maid and "My Deareet Child!" She Cried. theatrical dresser Alphonsine to see her relations in Nancy for a month, and only brought the other with her; »he had, moreover, caused the state­ room on the channel boat to be taken in the name of Miss Donne, and she brought no more luggage to Versailles than could be piled on an ordinary cart, whereas when she had last come from New York her servants had seen 87 pieces put on board the Bteam- er, and a hat-box had been missing after all. Mrs. Rushmore came out to meet her on the steps in the hot sunshine, portly and kind as ever, and she ap­ plied an embrace which was affection­ ate, yet imposing. "My dearest child!" she cried. was sure I had not quite lost you yet!" "I hope you will never think you have," Margaret answered, almost quite in her girlish voice of old. She was very glad to come back. As soon as they were alone in the cool drawing room, Mrs. Rushmore asked her about her engagement in a tone of profound concern, as though it were a grave bodily ailment which might turn out to be fatal. "Don't take it so seriously," Marga­ ret answered with a little laugh; "I'm not married yet!" The elderly face brightened. "Do you mean to say that--that there is any hope?" she asked eagerly. Margaret laughed now, but In a gen­ tle and affectionate sort of way. "Perhaps, just a little! But don't ask me, please. I've come home to forget everything for a few weeks." "Thank heaven!" ejaculated Mrs. Rushmore in a tone of deep relief. "Then if--if he should call this after­ noon, or even to-morrow--may 1 tell them to say that you are out?" She was losing no time; and Marga­ ret laughed again, though she put her head a little on one side with an ex­ pression of doubt "I can't refuse to see him," she said, "though really I would much rather be alone with you for a day, or two." "My darling child!" cried Mrs. Rush- more, applying another embrace, "yov shall! Leave it to me!" Mrs. Rushmore's delight was touch­ ing, for she could almost feel that Margaret had come to see her quite for her own sake, whereas she had pictured the "<ihlld," as she still called the great artist, spending most of her time In carrying on inaudible conver­ sations with Logotheti under the trees in the lawn, or in the most remote corners of the drawing room; for that had been the accepted method ot courtship in Mrs. Rushmore's young days, and she was quite ignorant of the changes that had taken place sinee then. Half an hour later, Margaret waa in her old room upstairs writing a let ter, and Mrs. Rushmore had givea strict orders that until further notice Miss Donne was "not at home" for any one at all, no matter who might call. When the letter already covered tea pages, Margaret laid down her pen and without the least pause or hesita­ tion tore the sheets to tiny bits, ink­ ing her fingers in the process because the last one was not yet dry. "What a wicked woman I am!" she exclaimed aloud, to the very great surprise of Potts, her English maid, who was still unpacking in the next room, the door being open. "Beg pardon, ma'am?" the woman asked, putting in her head. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Refines Brain and Spirit • few days after she had talked with Lady Maud, and before Mr. Van Torp's arrival, Margaret had gone abroad, without waiting for the promised advice in the matter of the wedding gown. With admirable re­ gard for the proprieties she had quite gratitude, declined to let Logotheti cross the PbelPs ^ Harper s Bazar. channel with her, but had promised Take the situation without idle ro- to see him at Versailles, where she I mance or misdirected restlessness, was going to stop a few days with her j You suffer pala. Hut earn jw» eleept i Result of Continued Physical Suffer Generally speaking, can you eommand tng--3ome Thoughts on Relativ­ ity of Human Suffering. After all, the relativity of human misery is a matter of profound sig­ nificance to the miserable. It Is idle to say that we cannot bear our own pang any better because some one else suffers a sharper one. In point of fact, if we do not bear it better for knowing how much more severe it might be we are either stupid of-un­ grateful, or both, and which ot us is ready to answer to this charge? It is the tendency of oontinued physical suffering to refine the brain and the spirit, and as a class, invalids are not dull; nor do I think them lacking in writes Elizabeth Stuart a sufficient number of hours' uncon­ sciousness out of the 24? Then is pain a secondary and quite manage­ able affair. Your nerves are shaken or shattered. But are you disabled? Can you move about? Then, if you cannot (which Is altogether possible), exercise your nervous system into obedience. At least, you can control it so far that you ought to thank heaven for every motor muscle left at your eommand. Puzzled the Oriental, Although the young Oriental under­ stood ordinary methods and occur­ rences very well In his new California abiding place, hej occasionally found a puzzle. "Japanese boy pretty smart when he can speak American in a year," he said, "but Missouri boy he speak good after he has been here month#" The Exceptional ?% Equipment of the California Fig Syrup Co. and tho scientific attainments of its chemist# have rendered possible the production of Syrup of Figs and Elixir of Senna, in all of its« excellence, by obtaining the pure medic­ inal principles of plants known to act most beneficially and combining them most skillfully, in the right proportions, with its wholesome and refreshing Syrup o^ California Figs. As there is only one genuine Syrup of Figs and Elixir of Senna and as the gen- * uine is manufactured by an original method known to the California Fig Syrup Co. only, it is always necessary to buy the genuine to get itg beneficial effects. A knowledge of the above facts enahlee one to decline imitations or to return than if, upon viewing the package, the full name of the California Fig Syrup Co. is not louad printed on the front thereof. BENEFIT OF HOME TRAINING I-#* Probability That Father "ImprevedP y on Anything Willie Had Heard on the Street | "When Willie's father came hotite supper there was a vacant chair at the , table. "Well, where's the boy?" "William ie upstirs in bed." The answer came with painful pretMsion_ from the sad-faced mother. x "*• "i "Why, wh-whats up? Not stek, ipV he?" (An anxious pause.) ^ "It grieves me to say, Robert that our son--your son--has been heard swearing on the street! I heard him." "Swearing? Scott! Fll teach him to swear." And he started upstairs in the dark. Half-way up he stumbled and came down with hia chin on the top step. When the atmosphere cleared a lit­ tle Willie's mother was saying sweet­ ly from the hallway: "That will dow dear. You hay? given him enough fa*, on? lesson."--Judge. A MAN OF RESOURCE. Actor (of provincial company)-- Can you give me ten cents oa ac­ count? I must get a shave. I have been playing Hamlet for four days, and my beard is beginning to grow. Manager--Well, that's easily rMM* died. We'll put on Othello. Schools for Tuberculous Children. Special schools for tuberculous chil­ dren have now been established itt Providence, Boston, New York, Roches­ ter, Washington, Hartford, Conn., Chi­ cago and Pittsburg. New York has three schools and Washington, D. C., two. The board of education of New- York city is proposing to establish three more, and similar institutions are being planned in Detroit Buffalo, Philadelphia, Cincinnati and Newark, N. J. In cities like Providence, Boston and New York, where outdoor schools have been conducted for two years, the re­ sults obtained from the treatment of children in special tuberculosis open air schools seem to show the great ad­ vantage of this class of institutions. This, coupled with the experience of open air schools in Germany and Eng­ land, proves that children can be cured of tuberculosis and keep up with their school work, without any danger tct fellow pupils. * r < Special Note from Atchison. The engagement of Mr. Hiram Har- desty and Miss Suzette Snarley is an­ nounced. It occurred the other even­ ing at 9:46 on the red sofa in Miss Snarley's parlor. The young lady waa dressed in black, and wore no orna- vents. She did not look unusually pt'etty, and what caused the youns man's mental aberration is not known. Neither one could remember exactly what was said, and both admitted it was not the first time he kissed her* We print the details for the romantic young things wbe are always curious to know how an engagement is brought about--Atchison Globe. SECRET WORKERS The Plan Upon Which Coffee < Coffee is such a secret worker that it is not suspected as the cause of siefe* ness or disease, but there is a wry sure way to find out the truth. A lady In Memphis gives an inter­ esting experience her husband had with coffee. It seems that he had been using it for some time and waara» invalid. The physician in charge shrewdly suspected that coffee was the "Worm at the root of the tree," and ordered. It discontinued with instructions to use Postum regularly in its place. The wife says* "We found that was the true remedy for his stomach aad heart trouble and we would have glad­ ly paid a hundred times the amount of the doctor's charge when we fOUBd how wise his judgment was. "The use of Postum ^instead of cef- fee was begun about a year ago. and it has made my husband a strong, well man. He has gained thirty-five pounda in that time and his stomach and heart troubles have all disappeared. "The first time I prepared It I dHI not boil it long enough and he saM there was something wrong with It. Sure enough it did taste very flat, but the next morning I followed directions carefully, boiling It for fifteen minutes, and" he remarked 'this la better than any of the old coffee.' "We use Postum regularly and never tire of telling our friends of the bono fit we have received from leaving off COffOQ M Look for the little hook, "The Road fc* Wcllville." in pkgs, "There's a Reason.1* read the letter t A M e N p f H M M i t r v m . lUlM if