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' "jm I £*&•'. ••'£ • - i x v- M- m&Tth -I " .* ; ? w 4 " *** "v -. " • V *• • ' > r } f ' ::'•;:r > : 1 ' ;' -*f M\.-'.--0,."y. '.. '-^Mfr-I-- --'V -•• ••• . ...,>s • .-;1 - • .v.. •/,• V *. ••. • ,•--•. '. i- . .,- v .. -..- - • '. Br , y CybujIBTOKOT) v y BHADY llLU3TPAT/0tiSWRAyn/*fiKt WtMKJfflKtU WCCMUW# CtfYtKKTm CfVAT OflJXIlt SYNOPSIS. A young woman cast ashore on a lone­ ly Island, finds a solitary inhabitant, a young white man, dressed like a savage and unaMe to speak In any known lajn~ fuage. She decides to educate him a«>t« mold his mind to her own Ideals, S"'- finds evidence that leads her to believe that the man is John Revell Charnock or Virginia, and that he was cast ashore when a child. Katharine Brenton was a highly specialized product of si lea dine university. Her writings on the sex prob­ lem attracted wide attention. The son of a multi-millionaire becomes :nf^tuatod With her and they decide to put her theo­ ries into practice. With no other cere­ mony than a handshake, they go away together. A few days on his va<"ht re­ veals to her that he only professed lofty Ideals to possess her. While drunk he at­ tempts to kiss her. She knocks him down and leaves him unconscious, escaping in the darkness in a gasoline launch. Daring a storm she is cast ashore on an island. Three years' teaching gives the man a splendid education. Their love for each other Is revealed when he rescues her from a cave where she had been impris­ oned by an earthquake. A ship Is sighted and thev light a beacon to summon it. Langford. on his yacht, sights the beacon and orders his yacht put In. The woman recocntzes the yacht and tells her com­ panion that a man on board had injured ner in the greatest way. I^angford recog­ nizes Katharine. He tells the man that she had been his mistress, and narrowly escapes being killed. An American cruis­ er appears. Officers hear the whole story and L,angford asks Katharine to marry hiin. CHAPTER XVII--Continued. "1 can answer that," said the wom­ an. "When I landed on this island, I found this man here. He had been here a long time. I believe he had been cast away here as a child and had grown up alone. He had no speech or language. He had no mem­ ory of the past. His mind was a blank. I was giad to find him here. He gave me occupation, companion­ ship. I had been well educated. I de­ termined to teach him. I knew that his ignorance was" the result of his environment. I believed him to be naturally acute. I found my beliefs warranted. I taught him all that 1 could of life and letters from memory. For three years my sole and only oc­ cupation has been to teach him what I knew. No preceptor ever had apter or more dt>clle pupil." "No learner ever sat at the feet of such a teacher," cried the man, touched by the recollection. "Think, men, all that I knew was a childish babble of prayers which had remained in my memory. I was ignorant of everything, even that I myself exist­ ed; that there was any difference be­ tween me and the palm tree or yon­ der bird; that man was made in the Image of his God; that there was such a thing as a woman upon earth. 1 had no Ideas of honor or honesty, or pur­ ity, or sweetness, or truth, or life, or God, until she taught me. I believed in her as I believed in God, and 1 loved her as I love sunlight and fresh air and the sweet wind, i loved her, as I learned to love under her teaching, goodness and truth and «very virtue. And to think, to think, to think--" he threw up his hands in a wild ges­ ture--"that it has come to this." "And he taught me something, Mr. Whittaker." said the woman. "He gave me back my faith in manhood which you--" she swept Langford with a bitter glance--"had destroyed. He gave me back, 1 think, my faith in God. He taught Die many things. And when two days ago an earthquake bur­ led me within the ca\*e I call my home, and he tore the rocks asun­ der and freed me and caught me in his arms, 1 knew that he had taught me what love was, and as he con­ fessed befftre you all that he loved me, that he did love m*»4will confess the same, and say that I afelfiist have not changed in this hour." "Kate. Kate!" cried T-angford, "for God's sake, think of what you say and do!" "Sir," said Whittaker, turning to the man of the island, "you are a very fortunate man." "Of all on earth," was the bitter an­ swer, "I cannot think there are any more miserable than I." "Did you learn nothing of his past, Miss Brenton?"" asked Whittaker, un comfortably, unable to answer this strange yet natural assertion. "Could the man remember nothing?" "1 learned a great deal," returned the woman. "In the cave which he had made his home and which he has since yielded up to me--' "Where is this cave?" "On the other side of the island. You shall see it presently. I found a Bible. There was a date in it some SO years back and a name In It." "What is the name?" "John Ravell Charnock." "Of Virginia?" asked Whittaker, eagerly. "I think so, although there 'was nothing but the name and the date in the Bible." "I know Charnocks in Virginia. They come from Nansemond county. "It is a further confirmation," said the woman. "With the Bible there was a little silver box container a flint and steel by means of whict--" she turned to Langford--"we lighted that beacon which brought you here this morning." "It was my own eye caught the sig­ nal." answered Langford. "Would God I hpd died ere I gave it up to her!" interposed the man. "1 Insisted upon it. So soon as I realized this man loved me, I told him I had a story to tell. I knew it would bring sadness to his heart. I wanted htm to hear the voice of the world in cam merit upon my relation, and I knew he woulil find it on yonder ship." "I was hajysy," said the man, "to go on as we w ire. I should not have lighted that fire" •Pray continue with your story, Miss Brenton," said the lieutenant commander. "I am deeply interested In It. There is a great Charnock es­ tate in Virginia which has been held for 30 years or more by the last sur- rivor of the ancient familj. And I re­ member some romantic story connect* •d with it. too." "The silver box that Inclosed the flint and steel," continued the woman, "was marked 'J. R. C.' Exploring the island I came upon the remains of a boat, and any of you majf examine It. Near the boat in yonder coppice there were two skeletons, one of a woman and the other of a dog. I excavated the boat, found that it had belonged to the ship Nanssmcnd of Virginia. I have the stern pieces with the name painted on it in my cave. I put the skeletons of the dog and the woman in the boat and filled it up again with sand. There they li-e waiting Chris­ tian burial. The place where they had died, the woman and her dog, I carefully inspected. Everything but metal, and most of that, had rusted away, but I found two rings." She stretched forth her hand. "They are here." She stripped them off. "One of them is a wedding ring. You see it is marked." She read the markings off, "J. R. C. to M. P. T. September 10. 1869, II. Cor. xii, 15. The verse of Scripture to vrhich reference is made is 'I will very gladly spend and bo spent for you, though the more abun dantly I love you, the less I be loved.' There was a piece of silver, also, which had evidently been part of a dog's collar. It, too, was marked: 'John Revell Charnock--His Dog, July 22-1875.' And that was all." "Do you remember nothing of your early life, nothing whatever, sir?" asked Whittaker, turning to the man. "I have a dim recollection of some sort of a sea happening, of a long voy­ age with a woman and some kind of an antmal in an open boat, of horrible sufferings, of a few words of prayer; that is all." "I think that this man, then a child," resumed the woman, "and his mother must in some way have been involved in a shipwreck, and that she and her son and a dog must have been cast away on this island; that the woman died and the child survived. There is nothing here that would in any way harm him and his life and growth un­ der such circumstances and condi­ tions are quite possible. He had prob­ ably seen his mother read that Bible. He carried it with him, put it in that cave and forgot it with the flint and steel in the silver box of which he would have no knowledge and which he could not use. The dog probably lived some time and when he died crawled back to where his mistress lay and gave up his life at her feet. And therefore I believe this man's name to be John Revell Charnock; that he is an American, and that he came from Virginia. I know him to be a Christian and a gentleman. In all the days that we have been togeth­ er on this island he has done me no wrong. He has been gentleness, kind­ ness, docility itself, and despite our­ selves we have learned to love each other. Until yesterday we did not know it. Now it is for him to say what we will do." "Kate, Kate," cried Langford, "you cannot let this untutored savage--" "Not that," said the woman, "for I have taught him all I know and ail I believe." "You cannot let him decide this question," continued the man, passing over her interruption. "Yes," said the woman, "he must decide, but whatever he decides, what­ ever the relationship between this man and this woman is to be, I can Devcr be anything on earth to you." "Don't say that," said Whittaker. "Think, my dear lady, what you do, what this man offers you, the position in which -- God forgive me!--you stand." "Sir," said the woman, addressing the lieutenant commander, "this man wronged me grievously, terribly. He deceived me. He broke my heart. He killed ambition, aspiration and respect for my own kind within my soul. I know him through and through. The ) fact that he failed quickened his pas­ sion; the fact that men say I am beautiful made him the more eager; the fact that he was away and that he could not lay his hands upon me made him the more insistent; the fact that I had flaunted him and said him nay and struck him down made him the more determined." "Kate. Kate, you wrong me. Before God you wrong me!" interrupted Langford. "And indeed, madam, I believe you do," commented Whittaker. "I>et her speak on," said the man of the island. "It may be that you are right," con­ tinued the woman. "It may be that he is higher, nobler, truer than I have fancied. I should be glad to be able to think so. I am willing to take your view of it, his assertlpn of it, but I do not love him. Should I marry him, I would bring to him a heart, a soul, a body that turns to some one else. He could never be anything to me. As I am a Christian woman, a lover of my God and a follower of his Son, I cannot see but that I would be add­ ing one wrong to another to come to this man in compliance with any sug­ gestion of the world, following any dictate of society, subservient to any convention. I cannot see but that I would be doing as great or a greater wrong than I did before in flaunt­ ing all of these forces. I have learned what love la and what marriage 6hould be. 1 will not give my hand and yield up my person where I cannot yield my heart. And there Is no expiation or reparation that requires It of me, no voice Cliat can coerce me into it. I will not martj you, Valentine Lang­ ford i "111 accept your expressions as evidenced by your wdAi-s, ij 7 Jur presence here, as testimony to your regret. Indeed, I realize that your con­ fession was itself a great humiliation to a man like you. And perhaps I have spoken harshly of it. But the bare fact remains, I do not love you, I could not love you, I don't even want to love you. My heart, my soul goes to this man." she turned to her companion of the island, "whom up to to-day I have J made ami fashioned and taught and trained until these hours when he has broken away from me. I *ove this man who stands silent, who thinks of me as a thing spotted, polluted, damned. Him I love, though he slay me, yet will I love him. Him I trust, though he disobey me, yet will I love M W M l l l f ! I M l , f l 'S "No Christian Ever Believed In His G him. Him I will serve, though he cast me off, yet will I love him. And with this in' my heart in which 1 glory and which I confess as openly and with as little hesitation as you confessed your shame, I give you my final, abso­ lute, utterly Irrevocable decision. I will not marry you, I will not go back with you. No, not for anything that you can proffer, nor for any reason that you can urge, will I come to you when in my soul 1 belong to another. There may be no end to this hut my despair. This man may cast me off. This man may trample me under foot. The spots upon my soul may loom larger In his view and hide what else is there. 1 know I have been for­ given by God, I will not be for­ given by men, but I tell you here and now, again and again, that 1 will not be your wife. I will be his wife or no man's." Langford turned away and hid his face in his hands. Whittaker stepped forward and laid his hand upon the shoulder of the man of the island. He shook him for a moment. "You stand immobile," he cried, sharply, "after such a confession as that, after such an appeal? What have you to say, man? You ought to get down on your knees and thank God for the love of such a woman." "Aye, aye," burst out the deep tones of the old coxswain of the cutter. "So say all of us." "God help me," cried the man, lift­ ing his hand and releasing his shoul­ der from the grasp of the officer, "1 did love this woman. Think how it was, think how I believed in her. No Chris­ tian ever believed In his god as I be­ lieved in her. She told me what purity was, what innocence was, what sweet­ ness was, what light was, what truth was, and I looked at her and saw them." "And you can look at her and see them now," cried the officer. "No," said the man, "I can ijever look at her and see her the same." "Oh, Man! Man!" cried the woman. The test was upon him. He was failing. Her sorrow, her gi lef were more for him than for herself. "Don't mistake me," said the man. "I can't help loving you, whatever you are. If you had been as guilty as, when he began to speak and when you corroborated him, I fancied that you were, I should have loved you just the same and I should have married you, and I shall marry you. This . . . this awful thing has come between us, buf we will try in some way to live it down, to forget it, to go on as we were." He stepped toward the woman. She drew herself up to her full height and looked him unflinchingly lu the face. "No," she said, "we are not going on as we thought. We will not marry and live together. We will not bury this wretched happening in the past in any oblivion. I /Will marry no man. although he may have my whole heart, who is not proud and glad to take me, who does not realize that I am as pure and as innocent of wrong and shame as he would fain think his mother, as he would absolutely know his wife must be. I told you that your manhood must be put to the test. I told you that your love must be tried by fire. What I loved in you was the assurance that you would survive the test, that you would triumph in the trial. It is not I that have been before the great judge this morning, but you, and you have failed." "Kate," said Langford, "he casts you off; take me. I swear to you that were I in his place, I would not have hesitated a moment." "I respect you more than ever." said the woman; "but 1 don't love you and I cannot, I will not take you!" "Charnock," said Whittaker, "if that's your name, permit me to say here, saving tfce lady's presence, that you are behaving like a damned fool" The man looked at him dumbly, un- comprehendingly, and made d# reply. It was the woman who spoke, coldly, impartially. She bad seemingly dis­ missed the whole affair, though at what a cost to herself BO one could know. "Sir," she said, "Is there anyone on your ship empowered to administer an oath?" "I have that power," answered the lieutenant-commander. "Why do you ask?" 3 "I wish you would bring some of your officers here with paper and ink. 1 wish to make a deposition as to the facts that I have learned concerning this man which may be of service to him in establishing his identity and discovering his history when he re­ turns to the United States." "But are you not going' back with us. Miss Brenton?" asked the officer In amazement. "We are sailing for Hon­ olulu and thence for San Francisco as directly as we can go." "No," said the girl, "I will not leave the island. You can take my fr»end here ." "The Southern Cross," said Long­ ford, "is at your disposal, Kate." "I have had one voyage upon h*r," said the woman bitterly. "I want nev­ er to see her again." "Woman." said the man of the is­ land suddenly, "if you stay here. I stay here. Without you I will not go»" "Not so." said the woman scornful­ ly. "I would not be upon the same island alone with you again. You have failed me." Her voice broke, but she caught *t again instantly and resumed her iron self-control. "Then if one of us must stay, it shall be I." "No," said the woipan. "1 have been in the world and you have not. You may go and learn what it holds for you. I have tried to prepare you, to give you lessons. Now, you may put them in practice." "The island is mine," said the man. "I was here when you came. I shall be here when you return.'5 "We shall see," returned the wo­ man looking boldly at him. The clash of wills almost struck fire wlthlo the eyes of the two who thus crossed swords. "Meanwhile," 8he turned to Langford, "if you will leave the is­ land and go back to your ship, 1 shall be very glad. There is nothing you can do here. You have nothing to gain by remaining." "Kate," he cried, "one last appeal." "It is as unavailing as the first." She looked at him steadily. He saw that within her face and bearing which convinced him that what she said was true. "At least," he said, with the dignity of sorrow and disappointment, "if I have played the part of the fool, I have done my best to play the man." He turned slowly awty. In a step the woman was by his side. "You have," she said. "Whoever else has failed me in this hour, it has not been you. I am sorry that I do not love you, that I never did love you and that I cannot love you." She reached her hand out. 'Good-by." "Good-by," he said, "if you think of me, remember that I did my best to make amends and if you ever change--" "I shall not change," said the wo­ man. "Good-by." He moved off down the strand, called his sailors to him, got into his boat, shoved off and was rowed over the blue lagoon and through the open­ ing in the barrier toward the yacht tossing slowly upoa the long swells of the Pacific. "As tor you, sir," said the woman, after she had watched Langford a lit­ tle while in silence, "will you go back and bring some officers ashore to hear my story?" "At your wish. Miss Brenton," said the lieutenant-commander gravely. The woman turned to her compan­ ion. "Will you go with them?" "And leave you here alone?" cried the man. "I shall be here when you come back, I give you my word upon it. I do not break my word. You know whatever else you may have against me, I have always told you the truth. If you will remember, I said but yes terday that I was not worthy of you " She smiled bitterly. "4nd in that, madam," said Whitta­ ker, "give me leave to say that you broke your record for veraolty." " Tis good of you to say so," she re­ turned. "Believe me I have taken more comfort from your words and ac­ tions in this dreadful hour than I had dreamed it possible for men to give. Now, if you will all go away and leave and not come baek until evening 1 shall be so glad and thankful." "Come, sir," said the lieutenant-com­ mander, not unkindly, touching the man upon the shoulder. "As a gentle­ man you cannot do less than accede to the lady's request." Suffering himself thus to be per­ suaded, the inan followed the Officer intfc the boat, in which the whole par­ ty embarked and was rowed away from the island. His first touch with the world had separated him from the woman he loved and who loved him. Nay, his own frightful folly, his own blindness, his own criminal and heartless decision had done that. And the world upon which humanity loves to load the blame cf its transgres­ sions, and with which it would fain share the consequences of its own follies, had nothing whatever to do with it. In fact, it was because he was so Ignorant of the world, so utter­ ly unable to see things in their rela­ tive values--and in relation we ascer­ tain truth--that he had taken the tone that he had used and entered upon the course which he had fol­ lowed. He could only see one thing, that this woman who he supposed belonged so completely and entirely and abso­ lutely to him, who was as fresh and unspotted from the world as he was, who had been his own as he had be­ longed entirely and utterly and abso­ lutely to her, was--different! That the difference was more in his own Imagination than anywhere else brought him no comfort. He still loved her, he still wanted to marry her, but he loved her in spite of her shame. A greater, a wiser man would have loved her because of it. And some day this fact which he himself was inherently large enough to realize, or would be after a time, would cause him a grief so great that the anguish that he suffered now would be noth­ ing. Whittaker was a man of great tact and shrewdness and one with a wide knowledge of the world. He realized something of what was in the man's mind. He saw in some measure how the proposition presented itself to him and he felt a deep kindness and pity toward his unhappy fellow passenger. m CHAPTER XVIII. Divided. The best thing on earth for a man in the islander's position would have been isolation and a chance to think it over. The worst thing on earth for a woman In Katharines position was isolation and a chance to think It over. If the man had been enabled by lack of outside interests to give free rein to his thoughts and let them draw him whither they would, he might have ar­ rived at a different viewpoint, whence he could have enjoyed a eight of the affair in all its bearings and could have adjusted himself to them, but the op­ portunity he needed he did not get. He was immediately plunged Into an at­ mosphere of such strangeness to him, filled with such compelling necessity for attention, that, although he loathed the necessity thus imposed upon him, he was constrained to take part in the life that flowed around him. His instinct--and he was al­ most a woman in his instinctive ca­ pacity--was to be alone, but it was Impossible, and in spite of himself what he saw dl^racted him. The people he met did more. Whittaker hustled him below, of course, as soon as possible and took him into his own cabin. Fortunately they were men of much the same height and build, although the islander was the more graceful, symmetric and strong, and he succeeded In getting hiin into a civilian suit of clothing for which he had no present use. There were both loss and gain in his appear­ ance There was no gaitf in the island­ ers feelings, at least, he thought not, in view of the irksome restraint of clothing, and yet there was a certain satisfaction to his soul in being no longer singled out from among his fel­ lows by the strangeness of his apparel. As clothes the garments became him, nnd it all depended upon your point of view as to whether von preferred the handsome barbarian with a hint of civilization in his carriage, or the civ­ ilized gentleman with a suggestion of the barbaric in his bearing. Whittaker reasoned rightly that the sooner he became accustomed to these things the better, and that the time to begin was immediately. He had had a ha3ty word or two with the captain before he took him below, and when he was dressed--and it required assistance from the lieu­ tenant-commander ere the unfamiliar habiliments were properly adjusted-- the two passed from the ward room to the cabin of the captain in the after part of the ship. The few sentences in which Whitta­ ker had made his brief report to his superior had in a measure prepared the captain for the more lengthy dis­ course that followed, and, feeling that the situation was one which required more than the simple authority of the master of a ship, he had summoned to conference the surgeon and the chap­ lain. It was to these three men, there­ fore, that Whittaker and the islander presented themselves. The chaplain, like Whittaker, was a Virginian. He had not noted the islander's face when he came aboard in his semi-savage garb, but as his eye dwelt upon him standing clothed and In his right mind before him he gave a start of surprise, and so soon as the formal salutations had been ex­ changed, with a word to the captain for permission, he asked Whittaker a question. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Whittaker, but what is this gentleman's name?" The word gentleman was used natu­ rally and unconsciously, with an ab­ solute sense of its fitness, as every­ one In the cabin could perceive. "It is not rightly known," said Whit­ taker, "but he 1b believed to be a Virginian of the--" "I knew It," said the chaplain. Im­ pulsively; "he is one of the Charnocks of Nansemond county." "Your recognition, chaplain," said the lieutenant-commander, eagerly, "will be of great value In determining this stranger's name and station. The evidence of It 1b circumstantial. I do not know how it will be regarded In a court of law." "I have always understood that the Charnock estate was a vast one," said Capt. Ashby, "and since coal has been mined on the Virginia lands it has be­ come very valuable." "It is true." answered the chaplain. "Who holds it now?" asked the sur­ geon. "It is held by an old man, my friend of many years' standing, the brother of John Revell Charnock." "I believe that to be my name," said the islander. "I have little doubt of it," repiie« the chaplain, continuing. "The first John Revell Charnock was lost at sea. He and his wife and young child some 30 years ago set forth on a voyage around the world for her health. The ship, In which I believe he had some ownership, was called the Nansemond. Its course was traced as far as Val­ paraiso, thence it sailed for the Philip­ pines and was never heard of again. I know the story," said the chaplain, turning toward the captain, "because John Revell Charnock was one of my best friends, as is his brother, Philip Norton Charnock, who now holds the estate." (TO BE CONTINUED.l iSmall Boy Solves Problem *- 8imple Solution of Trouble That Was Worrying the Man Without a Family. ("apt Tom Grasselli Is the father of three sons, C. A. II., Tom. Jr., and Henry. But Tom Is hardly ever known by his own name. Everybody calls him Buddy. The three boys have come to look upon Wade park as their very own. They iairiy live in the park and their parents, who know what's good for little boys, let 'em. It beats doctor hills all hollow. Their taste runs In the direction of the zoo. too, and they are on excellent terms with the ani­ mals. Particularly are they fond of the ostrich, which they regard as a Htork'irom his general resemblance In a picture book to that wise old bird The boys are great favorites lu Rock Island. 111., their mother's home, and frequently visit there. One neigh­ bor. a friend of the family, has play­ fully proposed to adopt Buddy, and Buddy has signified his acceptance of that honor The last time Buddy was out there their friend proposed to con­ clude the bargain, but his elder broth­ er, Caesar, interposed an objection. " Tain t fair," he said, with a sense of duty toward the family, "to take Buddy away from us this way. We couldn't get along without him, Hen­ ry and me." "But I haven't any little boy," argued the friend In serio-comic des­ pair. "nor any little girl What am I going to do about it?" "Tell you what you do," consoled Buddy, to whom his brother's plea had appealed. "You just come to Cleveland with us and we'll intro­ duce you to the big stork in Wade park. You tell him what you want and he'll do it. He's a friend of the family end my father knows him well."--Cleveland Leader. Bavarian Beer. Bavaria remains easily ahead in Its consumption of beer, for last year, we are told, it drank 24S quarts for ev­ er} man, woman and child in the king dom. Though the ladies assist, we may set aside the children and con­ clude that the average Bavarian man is not far outside a gallon a day. But this is not so dreadful •»$, it sounds, since if alcohol in any forth be harm­ less, it is surely least harmful and most delightful in the form of Bavari­ an beer as drunk in Its native land. And the stalwart peasants and moun­ tain dwellers love it so well that they do not yearn for the grosser indulg­ ence of intoxication. The day is not long enough for a man to make himself drunk on Munich beer. Often Too Many Pictures. Attention was called to the fact that there are no pictures on the walls of the house of Mark Twain, in which his daughter was recently married to '.he Russian pianist, Ossip Gabrilo- witsch, because the author thinks that the natural pictures framed by the casements are much more beauti­ ful than any artificial ones can be. The trouble with most houses is that there are too many pictures, and this is especially often the case where the natural beauty of the landicape ought not to be disregarded. : a DtflMrt Prof. Shaw, «he Wefi-Knawa Agsfc Says About it? "I *em*r nim catti* l» VMtna So fch® eoTK. of the •• St ate*. FMdt and oHnsftS# hrft". fer Jits Pari***. lour market, will im* frovf" faster ih&fi ycrai* Brmera th« ^PpUf-3, Wb.pt?, cars, tm crown up to thefT'tli [m miles north of t-hf' Int-ernEtiosFii bctmd* aryj: Yoor vaearis i«o4 wilt be taken a*, b rat# bejond present eoneess- E'Wpl# "in. the t&tm •who wank to lakr tio fefelff iand." Hearif $7 j ̂ 70,006 lissrisiii .idmaltetheir homes Wcitsra Cnwito ttai«s tpbiv 4808 rodewd another l&rgm :rop of wiieat, end t?Brley» in addition to whlcfe the cattla sport*, fs» an .imifWEMC Item» ('ante raising, dalryiEg, mlxea ."arming imd arair. igtowin* In !-'•# j srorlnws .of Nmltotei MHkftt* «_ „J chewm and Albert*. P59?S|H Free bemestend and pre-emo* tloa Meat, «a wei.1 a® lauds heif f'y railway ami Ss,r.ri coirtminie®, w5SI I morlde home® for BJIIHOIW. Adaptahle *o1S Iwoltlsfssl <?!!• sehaois and rhurvhn, and srnsd. railways. For (settlers* rates. mcTls-liw9 Mtwfetnwi "tilt Best West." bow i .1 reach the conntir sad oihst p»T« • jwrftn tn sinp't- ,,-ir.iUios!, Ottawa* Canada, or to the | Stwerameot Agent. t Se-af ' '">&£•• 'I'rMtieR TrrVita&l A. Bail, tSO St.. an-aisikw* Wl*. m- •Mi WOl re<fare ntnlaoa »wt.U#a XetidoE#, ! igttBneuMk Hmelea or lftratr.ee, Cb>« tfct L . a * n < o n e » s f i n d s t o p p a i s i t o a » Splint, Sid# Bons or Bom^paip No bdstcr, no hair g.ine. Ixoraa can used. $2.00 a bottle. Horse Book % E frea. _ AHSORBIXK, JK,. for marklcd, St ani PL Rcducps strained torn ugMnmt*, mtitfei g!aaj% spins or Btusetes--heals ulcere--«Uars pstn. Tow druggist can supply and. si*-.* references. Will •you more i f vow write. Book Free: MM, onl y 'hv Try Gillette Shariag NO zoning 9 WfWM, HAIR1 BALSAM Ctmm* mi Ill® VtvmoUt a Istsiiriarit g'ttwtfi, l8Mf JNtto to BNbM Hate to its Temttsftal Cotwr« (>ito esaip dtseas^B St halt: IsStssfi "Dj utnl tH-V iiiit§H foiiR mm. with direct fKMB the factory--FREE ROGKRS' SIIA'EK with each order--ono year to pay. 8end today for la- strcutluna how we<loit. A. LeatliACo.. Klgln,lBL PI*"" i. ii» WiImi Vt.Olenma,' r£a* KIND TO KIDS. 1 Clara--He's a kind-hearted autom#> billst, isn't he? Clarence--Expectionally so. I nev­ er knew him to ran over even a chJlA unless he was in a hurry. Dangerous Job. Kind Lady--Here is a rhubarb ptaw my poor man. How did you get that wound on your arm? Tired Tim--I was a lookout, mum. Kind Lady--Ah. a lookout on • steamer and there was a collision? Tired Tim--No, mum, a lookout for a second-story man an' de watchman winged me, mum. There's a Rv*on. "Paul, If I were to die, should 7M marry Widow Muller?" "Good heavens, no!" "Why not? Every one says like me she la." "Yes, that's just the reason." Girls don't take much Interest &B pugilism, but they will continue !• train for the engagement ring. A "Corner" In Comfort For those who know the pleasure and satisfaction there is in a glass oi ICED P0STUM Make it as usual, dark and rich--boil it thoroughly tto bring out the distinctive flavour and food value. Cool with cracked ice, and add sugar and lemon; also A little cream if desired. Postum is really a food-drink with the nutritive elements of the field grains. Ice it, and you have a pleasant, safe, cooling drink for summer days--an agreeable surprise for those who have never tried it. "There"! a Beam" far POSTUM Foctam Cereal COL. United Battle Creek. Mich.