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To the right, on some thickly wooded, slightly ~rising ground, could be discerned the unmistakâ€" â€"able outline of a great wall, built to a monstrous height, no doubt the boundary of a villa of unusual size â€"and magnificence. Beneath the wall, halfâ€"hidden by a grove of chestnuts, was the usual cluster of huts; the dwellings of the hinds and vassals of the villa‘s noble owner. But n« #moke trailed ugwards, nor did any J f life strike upon the ear e will try those huts yonder,"‘ FErancisco. ‘"‘They are far gh from theâ€"road for security, ot too far to hamper any reâ€" i hither.. They seem deserted, even if inhabited, they are e likely to refuse me shelter 9or a_ wounded boy."" And Vittore, looking at his size wd stern appearance, thankfully. sgreed with him. Almost carrying Tomaso, FEFrancisco led the way, and quickly reached a footpath which, _ after _ many twistings, brought them out into a turfâ€"grown cpening round three sides of which the cottages were built. The fourth was the wall enclosing the grounds, RBand along it, bordering a ditch, ran a pleasant path which, as they subâ€" sequently discovered, led to a small ream, artificially extended, where he villa, to a lake of some ble size. cisco had surmized, ‘"But Della Scala‘s wife, the Duchess, is yonder, prisoner in @lilan." ‘‘And that proves, thou thinkest, Bella Scala must be dead! Maybe ; who knows? All the same, thou are a brave lad and a gallant for the thought." a He paused to rest Tomaso on tho boulders that had been his seat. ‘‘And for that speech of thine I‘ll tell thee something, boy. I am the Visconti‘s foe. For the sake of Delâ€" la Scala, whom I knew, for the sake of Verona, where I lived, for toe gake of something dearer to a man than life, I am sworn to hunt him downâ€"and now, no more. We will see to shelter." R _ Resting Tomaso‘s. head against kis knee, EFrancisco turned a trainâ€" ed and searching gaze about him. ._‘"‘My father,‘"‘ whispered Tomaso feebly, "Giorgio Ligozzi.‘"‘ Leanâ€" ing against the stranger, indeed balfâ€"carried by him, Tomaso felt him start. _ "Thou knowest him, messer 1‘ ~ "He was put in high favor at Delâ€" la Scala‘s court, and sert for us to share his fortune,‘‘ put in Vitâ€" tore eagerly. ‘Ah,‘* said_ Erancisco. _ ‘"Della Bcala‘s court has perished. I am frem Verona. Iâ€"saw it burnt." _ _ Tomaso‘s head sunk dizzily upon bis helner‘s shoulder. Vittore‘s woung" heart swelled, then seemed ho ak within him. He choked his sobs. j ‘And Della Scalaâ€"and my uncle ; did they perish too L‘ ‘‘Who can tell?‘ replied the stranger steruly. ‘"‘Who shall say who perished or who not on such ?lfight as that on which Verona ellt? }, CHAPTER ILâ€"(Cont‘d). Revived by his tendance and by the cool evening air, Tomaso was FEelped upon his fset. Vittore clasped his hands in joy to sce him move again. ‘‘Messer, how shall we thank t ‘‘ he exclaimed. â€" all me Francisco,‘"‘ said the ller. "Thou wert journeying 30 Verona, didst thou say? What <insman hast thou there?‘ ‘ The Price of Disheonor ; eeen 304 m naeedome se es i ied t 6 d t e oi arte 4 6P 4 Cf 4 C PC x Ei Bi+ oL9 o o 1 $ 05 110. + B0X 4 . id 4000 4 S 4 04 C RROH $ PR NCR Or, The Lerd cfi Verona‘s Disappointment gazed about them It was a place of stâ€"grown grass. was ers; and a wooden ly_ from its chain en runnel. omaso, â€" Francisco nearest hut, and Ptter fashioned and n many of the like. admitted into the the space} each lit e openings in the by now Ihad fadâ€" t it was tmpty of uld_ have been disâ€" rtion of \the roof‘ 'e stood empty and h it could not have e the faggots had }pen hearths. Signs ere too recent. away, 33 if by eckless thnust, and the swedt spring faintly their surâ€" stools, 2 wooden iMroa brolean ~aal Prr} I niti ds teet ste fro n aintâ€" e he ran he 1t en Nothing to be heard! nothing to ke seen! Had he lost his chance, had the Duke reâ€"entered Milan ? Or had he gone too far to return that night? He sat upon the boulders where he had rested previously, his face turned towards Brescia, his hand upon h‘is dagger. The soft air was strengthening into a gentle wind; the poplar leaves were dancing, and darkenâ€" ing clouds began to drive across the moon.â€" But the man heeded nothing the changing; light or dark, what matter once Visconti had. crossed his path? Long he waited. Not a. sound save the dancing of the leaves, the rising wind, the soft noises of the night. At length Franâ€" cisco leaped to his feet, and his| breath came short and fast. Hoâ€" could hear something. The wind was. against him. He lay down; he! put his ear to the ground ; then he, leapt to his feet again, transformâ€" ed. Itf was unmistakable, though still far off; the thud of horses‘ fying Feet. & Francisco waited. With each second the wind rose ; the clouds raced and gathered, and darkened half the sky, and the mem,] straining every nerve, thought at first it was the wind he heard mingâ€" ling with the trample of the oneomâ€", mig hoofsâ€" . Then bhe kpow if for sereams of fury and wild shouting. "It is the Visconti," he said, and Francisco‘s giant sinews tightenâ€" ed. Ho went forward swiftly to the road, and strained his cyes and ears along its silver length. â€"_The spell of the moon and of the hour lay on everything; a weird ghostliness seemed to step among the trees; a sighing came from the great bushes in the garden of the villa; "Visconti is abroad !‘‘ § Francisco touched his dagger and went forward. Across his path two white moths fluttered, white by day, now silver purple, illusive and mysterious. To the man‘s fevered mood they seemed an omen; souls ‘f the dead allowed to take fareâ€" well of earth; and with straining eyes he watched i them float away and up, and out of sight. ‘"‘Who. had perchance just died ?" ] Francisco .noticed â€" them, and thought grimly they were the color ol blood just dry. the semiâ€"dark, like flame behind a veil, the clumps of wallâ€"flowers gave cut intoxicating scent. _ s Francisco stepped out intol the spring night, fire beating at his temples: Visconti was abroad! _ The moon, half shouldered in a musty £por, was rising above the fragrant chestnuts, and brilliant in Then he dozen unwittingly, and, waking with a start, saw the moonâ€" light streaming through the broken roof, the faint stars, and near him Vittore sleeping. The goblet still shone upon the crazy table, but the hut door had been closed and, save for themselves the place was empty. ‘"Who is he?""‘ thought the youth, not sure he gazen upon reality. "Who is he ?" There was no light in the hut, but the moonshine_ began to show across the open doorway. Francisâ€" co pulled a stool to the table, and sitting, drew out his dagger and carefully examined it ; laid it ready. Then he felt in his wallet as if to resssure himself of something, and then Tomaso saw him slip something on his handâ€"it gleamed : a ring ! "I am grateful,""‘ he murmured. «Toâ€"morrow 1 shall be well.‘" "Ay, get better," said Francisâ€" co._ ‘‘Thou mayst be of some serâ€" vice if thou wilt. Nay,‘‘ he adces, checking Tomaso‘s feeble but eager impulse, "I know not yet what [ can do myself. But we_ have a cause in common,"‘ and ho smiled faintly, ‘‘And now sleep. _ You sought Della Scala‘s court. I will not desert thee."" bad laid Tomaso down and took it from him eagerly. And his teeth ground over the name as he set the goblet on the table, where it gleamsed with a faint ghostly light. Taking his tattered cloak from his shoulders, he laid it over him, and Tomaso lay back on the. ready spread couch of heather, and watchâ€" ea peacefully. _ 5 The piece was heavily chased, bearing a raised shield wrought with the German eagle and letterâ€" ing «‘Câ€"3." The boy, glancing up into his face, believed him, and was soon lost to everything in the deep sleep cf utterâ€" weariness of mind and body. FErancisco bent above Tomaâ€" so and gave him wine to swallow, and set waer by his side. The youth caught the hand that tended him and kissed it. “Slf;ep,"' he said presently to Vitâ€" tere. "Eat this and then sleep. Thou carst do so with safety." _ "Cerman,"‘ he said.. ‘ Plunder. Possiply from the villa. This may account for its desertion. Yesâ€"no doubt; the owner of the villa has crossed Visconti‘s path.‘"‘ ‘‘They consider thomsely paid," returned â€" Viscon M if I can find a daught tagenets for brotheé us firmly placed 4 ties of Europe M# Early in the fou\s@@ ‘‘Yet they qonsfder themselves honored by this match, my lord," said the secretary. ‘"‘My sister‘s alliance with the Duke of Orleaus gratifies my ambiâ€" tion, Giannotto,""‘ he said, ‘"and is well worth a hundred thousand florins. So far the Valois have never married out of Royal Houses." The Duke moved to the window and stood there in observation awhile, then turning, spoke to Giâ€" annotto with a smile. _ His eyes were a beautiful grey, open wide, and just now lighting up a pensive, pleasant face. But the secretary knew it too under a different guise. "A hundred thousand florins, to be paid in gold,""‘ repeated Visconâ€" ti; ‘‘and no more, Giannotto." He rose and began to pace the room. _ Long habit and constant contact had not lessened the secreâ€" tary‘s fear of Visconti, nor mitiâ€" gated the hate, none the less inâ€" tensified for being for ever conâ€" cealed under the mask of cringing servility. But in Giannotto‘s disâ€" l‘ke there was nothing noble ; it was merely mean haste of a sordid soul that grudged the success of the bold crimes itself could never dare to undertake. Had the secretary been in Visconti‘s place, there would have been as vile a tyrant, of equal ctruelty and far less courage. i The room was small and cireular, hung with leather stamped in gold, and furnished plainly even to barâ€" eness. _ A narrow lancet window, placed low in the wall, admitted a subdued light, which fell upon the only spot of color in the room, the suit of turquoise blue the secretary wore. ‘"‘The demand is a hundred and fifty, my lord,"‘ he said, his voice meek, his eyes furtive. "They said two hundred to beâ€" gin with,"" was the curt answer. ‘"A hundred thousand florins, or I go elsewhere."" The secretary‘s pen flew nervousâ€" ly across the parchment, filling it with a cramped, mean writing that trailed unevenly along the page. Visconti‘s secretary wrote a charâ€" acteristic hand. _ Visconti leaned kack in his chair, watching him in silence. It was the Visconti who spoke. In a small dark room in the Visconâ€" ti1 palace, he and tue paleâ€"faced, redâ€"haired man, who. held the bridle of his horse two days before in the procession that had wended towards Brescia, were seated opâ€" posite to one another at the table; between them a pile of papers over which the secretary bowed his shoulders. "A hundred thousand florins â€" and no more, even if they refuse the bargsam." The dawn was showing when Francisco, spent with the passion of failure rather than from any hurt, came slowly back and picked his dagger from the road. Not far from it he saw a parchment roll tossed from Visconti‘s doublet in that frantic forward lungeâ€"Visconâ€" t1 who had safely disappeared with in the walls of Milan! Francisco picked up the roll. It& was inscribed with poetry and patched with blood. But his dagger was dashed from him. The horse‘s foam blinded him as it sprang desparately on. He lheard Visconti‘s demon seream, and as the earth whirled round with him, caught one fleeting glimpse of the white, distorted, hated face â€" then, he was prone upon the ground and Visconti, spurring on his way, looked back upon him with triumâ€" phant yells. §2. 2: festare ces t rnes 2 "Fly, fly!‘ he ssreamed, ‘"‘they are after us, but we escape them. Fly But .the next instant his courage and his purpose had returned. The borse was upon him. Swift as thought, Francisco leapt and clutched the bridle in a hand of steel _ But the mad inpetus defeated him. He wos dragged forward like a reed ; only his own great strength for the moment saved him. And now his wild shouts were added to the rider‘s. He struck upward with his dagger; he tore blindly. _ > ie oc acecatee ce 7 C o reaate ce is ‘"Do you not know me, Visconti!‘ s 7 $ ») he called. ‘"Do you not know me? _ For a breath Francise paused. This could be no human rider; well was it known in Lombardy that the Visconti trafiicked with the fiend, and this must be he ; and the man shrank and turned his eyes, lest he should see his damning face. "He rides with his own soul for company,‘‘ he muttered, grimly. Now the furious cries came clearâ€" ly, terrible, inhuman; and in anâ€" other moment, horse and rider were in view. ‘"YÂ¥es.. Viscontr."‘ Standing in the stirrups,. be lashed at the foaming horse in a blind rage and horror. His cap was gone, and hair and cloak were klowa about him. He shouted wildly, cursed and shriecked. involuatarily his tenze arm sank and his muscles loosened ; those mad shricks could freeze the marâ€" row. Nearer came the onset, trampling borse and yelling rider ; and Franâ€" cisco set himself anew. !)3 CHAPTER III. ell "‘Still, thou hast his wife, my lord," he â€"said.. Gian‘s eyes flashed afresh. ‘"Isotta d‘Este=ah !"‘ He leant back against the wall in. silence. _A certain winter mornâ€" ing, five years ago, rose clearly beâ€" fore him; a massive castle, frownâ€" ing from the rocks above Modena, and on its steps a_ fair girl who stood there and laughed to see him ride away back to Milan, his offer, of the Visconti‘s friendship seorned and flung in his face by her proud Family, the haughty Estes. Visâ€": puti‘s face grew dark as he rememâ€", red her; almost more than Della ate Isotta, Della Scala‘s wife. Andâ€" He turned from the window. Giâ€" annotto followed, cringing. "Ah, Giannotto, look,"" cried Visâ€" conti, ‘‘Della Scala‘s collection, Della Scala‘s jewels. How my treasury will be enriched! Only one thing mars it, that he should not be here to see !" } The secretary gazed into the courtyard, where a group of soldiâ€" ers and servants were busy conâ€" veying statues, gilt and silver plate, rich tapestry, glass, china and arms, from carts and mules into the narrow doorways that led into the grim interior of the palace. They were presided over by a maâ€" jorâ€"domo in a black gown, who callâ€" ed out directions in a shrill voice. To one side a few unhappy men, ~f note enough to have been sparâ€" ed, watched in grim silence the unâ€" loading of spoils that came from the sacking of their palaces. The great gates stood at their widest, and through them wound a long trainl of soldiers, some driving before. them groups of prisoners, tightly‘ chained together, cthers galloping! in laden with plunder of all kinds,l art treasures, blackened as if by fire, banners and suits of armor. ‘ Carried away by his transgsports, e seized Giannotto by the arm and dragged him to the window. . "‘Twas a man I hate1, Giannotto â€"I would he had lived to feel it. The only man I ever hated, because ‘the only man I ever feared, the only man who ever dared to deâ€" spise me!_ But he has fallen, he is dead, his wife is in my power, and in his fall he has placed me higher than my highest hopes."‘ Giannotto winced before Visconâ€" ti‘s passionate joy. 2 _ A noise without broke the sudâ€" den silence of reflection. Visconti, responding at once to. what it meant, glanced a moment from the window where he still stood, then swept down to the head of the table. He leant across to Giannotâ€" to, not that he valued any response he could offerâ€"Visconti‘s secretary was no more to him than the chair or which he sat, valued solely for bis skill in lettersâ€"but his triumph had to have its vent. ‘"‘Hark!‘"‘ he cried. ‘‘Listen to it, Giannotto! The wealth of Verona is pouring into Milan! The spoils of Verona, Giannotto, the treasures from Masâ€" tino della Seala‘s palace!‘‘ _ Visconti frowned. He thought of Conrad von Schulembourg, the brilâ€" liant young German noble, who had keen a favorite with him and all bis court, and had won the heart cf Valentine Visconti; no favorite cf his now. ‘"As for my lady sisâ€" tetr,""‘ he said, ‘‘let her â€"dare turn her eyes save where I bid her.‘"‘ â€" ‘"‘For love, my lord?‘‘ ventured tie secretary, with a hint of sarâ€" casm. ‘‘Whom I please,‘"‘ said Visconâ€" ti. ‘"Which is not what Valentine is doing,‘""‘ he added with a smile. "‘She may give trouble yet, my lord." Hisâ€"own grew ominous, and Giâ€" annotto shuffled uneasily. § ‘"‘And thou thyself, my lord,""‘ he said. "Thou will marry a Valois to thy sister! _ Who will be thy bride ?"" Visconti smiled. ‘"These marriagâ€" es are for ambition. _ Dost thou think I shall marry for ambition ? No, Giannotto, I have placed myâ€" self above need of that. The alliâ€" ances that make the Visconti one with the kings of Europe are for Valentine and Tisio; I shall marâ€" I‘yâ€"” All this Giannotto knew. . Della Scala, Duke of Verona, had owned fair lands and wide. . Verona, Brescia, all now in Visconti‘s hands. The secretary wondered, as he thought, how long it would be before the triumphant Gian threw away the mere rag of respect, the mere mockery of a title which bound him to the Empire, and became King of Lombardy in name as well as power. Almost the whole of Lombardy was under his sway, and that sway extended from Verceli in Piedmont to Feltre and Bellvino. Florence lately leagued against him in supâ€" port of his deposed father, had been beaten in battle after battle and was glad to escape, shorn of her fairest possessions, and cherâ€" ishing only her liverty. but no more than a meagre fifty years ago, before the last Visconti culminated the evil of his race, Matteo Visconti, Gian Galeazzo‘s grandfather, had first firmly estabâ€" lished his family as lords of Milan, supplanting their rival the Toriâ€" ani, who had long reigned as magisâ€" trateâ€"inâ€"chief, and urder Martin della Torre risenâ€"to some eminence. Every year of the fifty since then kad seen some increase of territory, some fresh acquisition of power, till with his last overthrow of Della Scala, the seizure of Verona, and the murder of his father, already miserably deposed, Gian Galezzo kad planted himself upon a level with kings. f hung â€"with faded tapesti The huge door creaked and swung en its hinges, and he stood at the top of two low stone steps, looking gown into Isotta‘s prison. It was li.tle better than a dungeon of stone, lofty but dark, with one winâ€" dox deep set, high out of reach, 1nd thickly barred. The walls were ‘She must be more humbled now,"‘"‘ he said to himself. ‘"‘She must turn and implore me for im ‘"‘By the look of her she will die of it,"" continued the old. woman. "But it ~I know anything of prisâ€" oners, and I have seen a few, thou will neverâ€" break her _ spirit, my lord." "I would I had hirs, to. stand Fim gagged against the door to hear ker,"‘ said the Duke. ‘‘When I am with her, my lord, she sits in silence, her eyes for ever on her missal; indeed she has not spoken since we brought her here; but when she is alone, she weeps. I have keard her through the door ; she weeps passionately, and calls wildly upon her husband to save her."" The old woman glanced tovards an inner door, massive and ironâ€" clamped. > ‘How is she?" he said. ‘"How does she bear h>r changs of priâ€" son ? Gian Maria closed the door beâ€" hind him. The door let him into a long narâ€" row passage flagged with stone, and lit by diamondâ€"shaped holes left in the walls; the air was damp and chill, and Visconti drew his cloak around him. â€" Unlocking a second door, he ascended a flight of stone steps, pitch dark, from which he emerged into a large cirâ€" cular chamber with a thick pillar in the middle from which the groinâ€" ed ceiling sprang. Save table and highâ€"backed chair of blackened wood, there was no furniture. This chamber was the outer guardâ€"room of the prisonâ€"wing, and a gloomyâ€" faced man leant against the pillar, his eyes fixed upon the opening door. It could be no other than the Viscormti entering thus, and he croutched almost to the ground. ‘What is thy guard?" said Visâ€" conti. But Gian had bent his steps elseâ€" where._ Plainly dressed, he passed almost unnoticed across an inner ecurtyard to a dark angle of a wall where a secret door anew admitted him. The whole Visconti palace was a sombre and gloomy place ; men crept about it on tiptoe, glancâ€" ing fearfully around them, afraid &E their ¢wn shadows. _ Visconti smiled to himself? at the sight of fear ; he loved to be feared, to ho‘d lives in the hollow of his hand, and play with them and death. _ "I wonder if she loved him,‘"‘ he mused. ‘"I do not think she did. Dear God, she did not need to wait to love a man, her life was not such that she could pick and choose her way of escaping from it. Conrad offered one and she was ready to take itâ€"nowâ€"five days ago! YÂ¥esâ€" Count Conrad is dead, and she will marry the Duke of Orleans! Ah, well! The Gorman was a fool, he acserved no better fate than a fool | I do not think she‘ll break her heart if she can find some other way.‘" He returned to his papers, pausâ€" ing now and then to glance towards the door, as if to keep himself on the alert for the Duke‘s noiseless entry. _ hss . He laughed an instant. A rustle‘ of the hangings and he was gone. CGiannotto sat silently, looking in} front of him. His thoughts were with Valentine Visconti, Gian‘s unhappy sister, whom he had been told to watch ; from her they travelâ€" led to the German Count, who, five| days ago, had left the palace.. l "‘Be watchful, Giannotto, the Princess Valentine may try to leave the palace. I have spies on her| every movement; still, thine eyes| upon ber also will do no harm â€"â€"‘ to. me !"/ ‘‘Where hast thou finally placed her, my lord?""‘ asked Giannotto, with his stealthy glance. The Duke started from his reveric. _‘ "‘In the West Tewer,""‘ he smiled. ‘Every «day I go to gaze on the room that holds her to make sure it is not a dream; to see and feel with my eyes and my own hands that her prison is doubly sure. If Isotta d‘Este should now escape meâ€"but she will not !*‘ He crossed the room to leave it, but paused at the door. . Isotta d‘Este was a valuable hosâ€" tage to be used against her family, should they think of avenging their fallen kinsman. she was in his power. Greatly would it have soothed him to know her death was in his power also, but the lust of ambition was greatâ€" er with this man even than the lust of pride or hate. pped vhe Visconti smiled again. Stooping, he raised her_ hand, audâ€"‘‘Will she bear this in silence*‘ was his thought. For a moment it seemed as if she might not. The delicate fingers stiffened and half closed, then, as if remembering anew, she left her hand passive in Visconti‘s hold, and only by a faint quiver told she knew the ring had been withdrawn. The despoiled hand fell back again on to the velvet arm, her eyes were fixed immovably upâ€" on her book, and Visconti, turning away to the door, silent as he came, leoked back at her incredulous of such control. _ She _ was sitting straight and slender, her delicate head poised high, butâ€"ah, yes, he thougzht it must be so!â€"he noted with delight that her breast heaved and the firm line of her mouth trembled ever so slightly. For a second he stood thus, a pzy of the pale prison light caught ,‘Ky the ring he held, then the door clattered and shook back into its bolts, and he. was gone. Millinery ever. She never stirred, nor raised her own. With his proiseless tread, Visconti paced round the chamber, raising the arras, and testing wâ€"h {his dagger every block of store. It was a superfluous precaution; any attempt to escape would have been simple madness, and Isotta d‘Este was not likely to give way to frenâ€" zy. Still it was joy to be sure and doubly sure that she was safe. ‘Every inch was inspected, every crevice searched. Meanwhile from time to time he observed her keonâ€" ly. But she seemed not to know her solitude was broken, save that once, when he passed her, she swept in the train of her gown, as she might have done had a leper come too nesar. A simple thing, but it goaded him, and for a moment she was near her death; rage almost cvercoming prudence. But as he stood behind her chair, halfâ€"inclinâ€" ed to strike, he noticed on her hand a ring. His expression changed ; he smiled ; his hand dropped down. The ring was of pearl,_cut with the arms of Della Scala, and worn on the third finger of her left hand ; her wedding ring. _ _ He waited, raging inwardly, but words would not come_ easily to break that silence. At_ last he slowly descended into the room, his eyes still on her face. s en this she kept her eyes. Not by so much as a flutter of her hand did she show she knew of the Visâ€" conti‘s presence. gloomy, sadâ€"looking folds droopâ€" ing .like torn, captured standards. A huge chest of sombre blackness leaned against the wall; above it hung a horn lantern, which after dark gave all the light that was obtained. For the rest, a few highâ€" backed chairs stood stiffly about the room. In his black dress Pisconti, pausing at the head of the steps, seemed part of its egloom. His wideâ€"open grey tyes looked straight ____ across at the solitary occupant. i Isotta sstft in one of the hugo . _ black chairs, her delicste hands _ resting on the faded crimson valâ€" â€" vet of the arms, her feet on a woodâ€" â€" â€" er footstool. She was of a fair and â€" noble appearance, but her face was _ marred by sorrow and her eyes red _ from many tears. Her pale, yelâ€" low hair was drawn away under a white veil. â€"Her long grey dress clung about her slender figure. On her knee rested a little book, and probably saved this child‘s life. Four doctors had been tried. Scort‘s Emursion seemed to be just the thing needed, and it is just the thing needed by thousands â€"of_ other_children. It‘s so easily digested, so pure and harmless, yet most powerful in building up the most deliâ€" cate child or adult. But be sure to get ScoTt‘s Emursron, there are so many worthless and harmful imitations, .. é-fb‘.;-‘__ > § % Scott‘s P uzs sion A full sopy of Mre. 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