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| j froa St Mrs. Elton wept bitterly, but with subdued grief of one to whom tears have been familiar; and when she reâ€" eovered sheâ€" soon brought her humâ€" ble tale to an end. She herself, inâ€" capacitated from all work by sorrow and a breaking constitution, was left in the streets of Liverpool withouy other means of subsistence than the charitable contributions of the pasâ€" sengers and sailors,on board the vesâ€" sel. With this sum she had gone to London, where she found that her old patron had been long since dead, and she had no claims on his family. She had, on leaving England, left on rela« tion settled in a town in the north; thither she now repaired, to find her last hope wrecked; the relation also was dead and gone. Her money was now spent, and she had begged her way along the road or through the lanes, she scarcely knew whither, till the accident which, in shortening her life, had raised up a friend for its close. "Children! no, sir; I never had but one child of my own" (she laid an emphasis on the last words), ~and that died in a foreign land!" "And no other relatives?" "None, sir. My history is very short and simple. I was well brought up, an only child. My father was a small farmer; he died _ when I was sixteen, and I went into service with a kind old lady and her daughter, whoâ€" treated me more as a companâ€" ion than a servant. I was a vain, gidâ€" dy girl then, sir. A young man, the son of a neighboring farmer, courted me, and I was much attached to him; but neither of us had money, and his parents would not give their consent to our marrying. I was silly enough to think that, if William loved me, he should have braved all; and his prudence mortified me, so I married another whom I didâ€"not love, I was rightly punished, for he illâ€"used. me, and took to drinking; L returned to my old service to escape from him, for I was with child, and my life was in danger from his violence. He died suddenly and in debt. And then, afâ€" terwards, a gentleman, a rich gentleâ€" man, to whom I rendered a service (do not misunderstand me, sir, if I say the service was one of which I repent), gave me money, and made me rich enough to marry my first lover, and William and I went to Amâ€" Africa. We lived many years in New Â¥ork upon our little fortune comfortâ€" ably; and I was a long while happy, for I had always loved William dearâ€" ly. My first affliction was the death of my child by my first husband; but I was soon roused from my grief. William schemed and speculated, as everybody else does in America, and so we lost all; and William was weakâ€" ly and could not work. At length he got the place of steward on board a vessel from New York to Liverpool, and I was taken to assist in the cabâ€" in. We wanted to come to London; I thought my old benefactor might do something for us, though he had nevâ€" er answered the letters I had sent him. But poor William fell ill on board, and diedâ€"in sght of land." "And such, sir,‘ said she, in ‘conâ€" clusion, "sulh has been the story of my life, except one part of it, which, if I get stronger, I can tell better; but you will excuse that now." "And you are comfortable and conâ€" tented, my poor friend? These people are kind to you?" "Ohb, so kind! and every night we all pray for you, sir; you ought to be happy if the blessings of the poor can avail the rich." ve Maltravers remounted his horse and sought his home, and his heart was lighter than before he entered that cottage. But.at evening Cleveland talked of Vargrave and Evelyn; and the good fortune of one and the charms of the other; and the wound, so well concealed, bled afresh. "One now dead, sir; dead many years ago. But it is a long story, and one that lies heavy on my conscience. Some day or other, if you will give me leave, Sir, I will unburden myself to you." "I heard from De Montaigne the other day," said Ernest, just as they were retiring for the night, "and his letter decides my movements. If you will accept me, then, as a travelling companion, I will go with you to Paris. Have you made up your mind to leave Burleigh on Saturday?" "If I can assist you in any way, command me. Meanwhile have you no friends, no relations, no children, whom you would wish to see?" ‘‘Yes, that gives us a day to recovâ€" er from Lord Raby‘s ball, _I am so delighted with your offer! we need only stay a day or so in town,. The excursion will do you good; your spirâ€" its, my dear Ernest, seem more deâ€" jected than when you first returned to England; you live too much alone here;â€" you will: enjoy Burleigh more en your return. â€" And perhaps then you will open the old house a little more to the neighborhood and to your friends. They expect it; you are looked to for the county." "I have done with politics, and sicken but for peace." ® "Pick up a wife in Paris, and you will then know that peace is an imâ€" possible possession," said the old bachelor, laughing. 4 Do as the Heavens have done; forget ® * Winter‘s Tale. The sweetest companion that e‘er man Bred his hopes out of. s your evil; With them, forgive yourself The curate of Brook Green was sitâ€" ting outside his door.. The vicarage which he inhabited was a straggling, irregular, picturesque building, humâ€" ble enough to suit the means of the eurate, yet large enough to accomâ€" modate the vicar. It had been built in an age when the indigentes éet pauperes, for whom universities were founded, supplied, more than they do now, the fountains of the Christian ministry; when pastor and flock were more on an equality. From under a rude and arched porch, with an oaken settle on either side for the poor visitor, the door opened at once upon the oldâ€"fashionâ€" ed parlor; a homely but pleasant fia‘;;,;",{g xa;,ii HER ATONEMENT CHAPTER XIX AY, JUNE 12TE, 1918 Ibid. room with one wide but low cottage casement, beneath which stood the dark shining table that supported the large Bible in its green baize cover; the Concordance, and the last Sunâ€" day‘s sermon, in its ebon case. There by the fireplace stood the bachelor‘s round elbowâ€"chair, with a needleâ€" work cushion at theâ€" back; a walnut tree bureau; another table or two;half The curate rose when he perceived her, and the lady‘s fair features were lighted up with a gentle pleasâ€" ure as she pressed his hand and reâ€" turned his salutation. There was a »peculiarity_ in Lady Vargrave‘s countenance which ; I kave rarely seen in others. Her smile, which was singularly expressive, came less from the lip than from the eyes; it was almost as if the brow smiled; it was as the sudden and momentary vanishing of a light but melancholy cloud that usually rested upon the features, placid as they were. "I have come, as usual, to consult my kind friend," said Lady Vargrave; ‘"and as usual also, it is about our abâ€" sent Evelyn." s The curate was seated then, one fine summer morning on a bench at the left of his porch, screened from the sun. by the cool boughs of a chestnut tree, the shadow of which half covâ€" ered the little lawn that separated the precinets of the houseâ€"from those of silent Death and everlasting Hope; above the irregular and mossâ€"grown palings rose the village church; and, through openings in the trees beyond the burialâ€"ground, partially gleamed the white walls of Lady Vargrave‘s cottage, and were seen at a distance the sails on the The old man was calmly enjoying the beauty of the morning, the freshness of the air, the warmth of the dancâ€" ing beam, and not least, perhaps, his own peaceful thoughts; the spontanâ€" eous children of a contemplative spirâ€" it andâ€"a quiet conscience. His was the age when we most sensitively enâ€" joy the mere sense of existence; when the face of Nature, and a passive_conâ€" viction of the benevolence of our Great Father, suffice to create a seâ€" rene and ineffable happiness, which rarely visits us till we have done with the passions, till memories, if more alive than heretofore, are yet mellowâ€" ed in the hues of time, and Faith softâ€" ens into harmony all their asperities and harshness; till nothing within us remains to cast a shadow overâ€" the things without; and on the verge of life, the angels are nearer to us than of yore. There is an old age which has more youth of heart than youth itself! As the old man thus sat, the little gate through which, on Sabbath days, he was wont to pass from the humble mansion to the house of God, noiseâ€" lessly opened, and Lady Vargrave apâ€" peared. They sat down on the rustic bench, and the seaâ€"breeze wantoned among the quivering leéaves of the chestnut tree that overhung their seat. ‘"Have you heard again from her this morning?" ter ‘"‘Not a great deal; but the little she does say betrays how much she shrinks from the union my poor husâ€" band desired; more, indeed,. than ever! But this is not all, nor the worst; for you know that the late lord had provided against that proâ€" bability (he loved her so tenderly, his ambition for her only came from his affection); and the letter he left behind him pardons and releases her if she revolts from the choice he himself preferred." a 7(ioien pizlin chairs constituted the rest of the furniture, saving some two or three hundred volumes, rangâ€" ed in neat shelves on the wainscoted walls. There was another room, to which you ascended by two steps, communicating with this parlor,smallâ€" er, but finer, and inhabited only on festive days, when Lady Vargrave or some other quiet neighbor came to drink tea with the good curate. rey himself ‘"Yes; and herâ€"letter increases the anxiety which your observation, so much deeper than mine, first awakâ€" ened." "Does she, then, write much â€" of Lord Vargrave?" > An old housekeeper and her grandâ€" sonâ€"a young fellow of about twoâ€" andâ€"twenty, who tended the garden, milked the cow, and did, in fact, what he was wanted to doâ€"composed the establishment of the humble minisâ€" "Lord Vargrave is perhaps a genâ€" erous, he certainly seems a candid, man, and he must be sensible that his uncle has already done all that jusâ€" tice required." "L think so.. But this, as L said, is not all; I have brought the letter to show you. It seems to me as you apâ€" prehended. Mr. Maltravers has wound himself about her thoughts more than she herself imagines; you see how she dwells on all that concerns him, and how, after checking herself, she returns again and again to the same subject." & The curate put on his spectacles and took the letter. It was a strange thing, that old gray haired minister evincing such grave interest in the secrets of that young heart! But they who would take charge of the soul must never be too wise to regard the heart! Lady Vargrave looked over his shoulder as he bent down toâ€" read, and at times placed her fingers on such passages as she wished him to note. The old curate nodded as she did so, but neither spoke till the letâ€" ter was concluded. ‘"Mighty waters rolling evermore." The curate then folded the epistle, took off his spectacles, hemmed, and looked grave. ‘"Well," said Lady Vargrave, anxâ€" iously, "well?" ‘"‘My dear friend, the letter requirâ€" es consideration. In the first place it is clear to me that, in spite of Lord Vargrave‘s presence at the rectory, his lordship so manages matters that the poor child is unable of herself to bring that matteer to a conclusion. And, indeed, to a mind so sensitively delicateâ€" and honorable, it is no easy task." ‘"Shall I write to Lord Vargrave?" "Let us think of it. In the meanâ€" while, this Mr. Maltraversâ€"" ‘"‘The child â€"shows us more of her heart than she thinks of; and yet I myself am puzzled. If you observe, she has only once or twice spoken of Colonel Legard whom she has made acquaintance with, while she treats at length of Mr. Maltravers, and conâ€" fesses the effect he has produced on We have digressed from Mr. Aubâ€" her mind. Yet do you know I more dread the caution respecting the first than all the candor that betrays the influence of the last? There is a great difference between first fancy and first love." _ "‘Is there?" said the lady, abstractâ€" edly. es "Again; neither of us is acquainted with this singular manâ€"I mean Malâ€" travers; his character, temper, and principles, of all ofâ€" which Evelyn is too young, too guileless to judge for herself. One thing, however, in her letter speaks in his favor." "What is that?" s ‘"He absents himself from her. This, if he has discovered her secret, or if he himself is sensible of too great a charm in her presence, would be the natural course that an honorable and strong mind would pursue." "What! if he loves her?" ‘"Yes, while he belives her hand is engaged to. another." s "Shall I, then, go to her? You know .how I shrink from strangers; how I fear curiosity, doubts, and questions; how" (and Lady Vargrave‘s voice faltered), "how unfitted I am for â€"forâ€"" she stopped short, and a faint blush overspread her cheeks. "True. What shall be done if Evâ€" elyn should love, and love in vain! Ah! it is the misery of a whole exisâ€" tence!" ‘"Dear friend," said he, "will you inâ€" trust this charge to myself? You know Evelyn is endeared to me by certain recollections! Perhaps, betâ€" ter than you, I may be enabled silentâ€" ly to examine if this man be worthy of her, â€"and one who could secure her happiness; perhaps, better than you, I may ascertain the exact nature of her feelings toward him; perhaps, too, better than you, I may effect an unâ€" derstanding with Lord Vargrave." "Perhaps she had better return to us," said Mr. Aubrey, "and yet, if alâ€" ready it be too late, and her affecâ€" tions are engaged, we should stilll reâ€" main in ignorance respecting the moâ€" tives and mind of the object of her attachment. And he, too, might not know the true nature of the obstacle connected ~with Lord Vargrave‘s claims." e The curate understood her, and was moved. ‘"You are always my â€" kindest friend," said the lady, with emotion; "how much I already owe you! what hopes beyond the grave! whatâ€"" ‘"Hush!" interrupted the curate; "your own good heart and pure inâ€" tentions have worked out your own atonement, may I hope also your own content. Let us return to our Eveâ€" lyn; poor child! how unlike this deâ€" spondent letter to her gay light spirâ€" its when with us! We acted for the best, yet perhaps we did wrong to yield her up to strangers. And this Maltravers; with her enthusiasm and quick susceptibilities to genius, she was haif prepared to imagine him all she depicts him to be. He must have a spell in his works that I have not discovered; for at times it seems to operate even on you.‘" ‘"Because," said Lady Vargrave, "they remind me of his conversation, his habits of thought. If like him in other things, Evelyn may indeed be happy!" > "And if," said the curate, curiousâ€" ly, ‘if now that you are free, you were ever to meet with him again, and his memory had been as faithful as yours, and if he offered the sole atonement in his power for all that his early error cost you; if such â€"a chance should happen in the vicissiâ€" tudes of life, you wouldâ€"‘‘ "If that were to happen," said she, in a very low voice; ‘"‘if we, were to, meet again; and if he were, as you. and Mrs. Leslie seem to think, poor, and, like myself, humbly born; if my forture could assist him; if my love could still, changed, altered as I am â€"â€"ah! do not talk of it; L cannot bear the thought of happiness! And yet, if before I die I could but see him again!‘ She clasped her hands ferâ€" vently as she spoke, and the blush that overspread her face threw over it so much of bloom and freshness that even Evelyn at that moment would scarcely have seemed more young. ‘"Enough,"‘ she added, after a little while, as the glow died away. "It is but a foolish hope; all earthly love is buried, and my heart is there!" She pointed to the heavens, and Woth were silent.. The curate stopped short, for he was struck by the exceeding paleness of his friend‘sâ€"cheek and the tremor of her delicate frame. Lord Raby, one of the wealthiest and most splendid noblemen in Engâ€" land, was more proud, perhaps, of his provincial distinctions than the eminence of his rank or the fashion of his wife. The magnificent chateaus, the immense estates of our English peers, tend to preserve to us, in spite of the freedom, bustle, and commerâ€" cial grandeur of or people, more of the Norman attributes of aristocracy than can be found in other countries. In his county, the great noble is a petâ€" ty prince; his house is a court; his possessions and munificence. are a boast to every proprietor in his disâ€" trict. _ They areâ€"as fond of talking of the earl‘s or the duke‘s movements and entertainments, as Dangeau was of the gossip of the Tulleries and Verâ€" sailles. Lord Raby, while affecting, as lieuâ€" tenant of the county, to make no polâ€" itical distinctions between squire and squireâ€"hospitable and affable to all â€"â€"still, by that very absence of exâ€" clusiveness, gave a tone to the poliâ€" tics of the whole county, and convertâ€" ed many who had once thought difâ€" ferently on the respective virtues of Whigs and Tories. A great man never loses so much as when he exhibits inâ€" tolerance or parades the rights of persecution. & ‘"My tenants shall vote exactly as they please," said Lord Raby; and he was never known to have a tenant vote against his wishes! Keeping a vigilant eye on all the interests, and conciliating all the proprietors in the county, he not only never lost a friend, but he kept together a body of partisans that constantly added to its numbers. Sir John Merton‘s colleague,.a young Lord Nelthorpe, who could not speak three sentences if you took away his hat; and who, constant at Almack‘s, was not only inaudible, but invisible in Parliament, had no chance of beâ€" ing reâ€"elected. â€" Lord Nelthorpe‘s faâ€" ther, the Earl of Mainwaring, was a new peer; and, next to Lord Raby, the richest nobleman in. the county. Now, though they were much of the same politics, Lord Raby hated Lord Mainwaring. They were too near each other; they clashed; they had the jealâ€" ousy of rival princes. Lord Raby was delighted at the noâ€" tion of getting rid of Lord Nelthorpe; it would be so sensible a blow to the Mainwaring interest. The party had CHAPTER XX, (Â¥To be continued) Composition on What Would You Do With a Dollar? And Why?â€"Writâ€" ten by Miss Edith Robb, Bolton, R.R. No. 2, aged 10 years. Two years ago this spring my faâ€" ther had a young pig that was very delicate. When it was about a week old the rest of the pigs began cheatâ€" ing it out of its food. It would soon have died had I not offered fifty eents for it, which my father accepted. I fed it out of a saucer for nearly a morith, when it began to pick up and afterwards grew to be as handâ€" some as any of the others. The same spring I bought fifty cents worth of potatoes and received for my money about threeâ€"quarters of a bushel. I planted the potatoes in my garden, kept them hoed all summer, and in autumn when I dug them I had seven bags full. â€" I kept both pig and potatoes over winter. The following spring. I planted the seven bags of potatoes out in the field, and in the fall when I dug themI had seventy bags inâ€" stead of seven. The same spring the pig I had fed all summer before presented me with twelve little pigs, which I cared for and looked after all â€"summer. When I sold the twelve pigs last autumn they weighed two hundred and fifty pounds each. I sold the lot for five hundred and twentyâ€"five dolâ€" lars. When I sold the potatoes I reâ€" ceived over a hundred dollars and had seed enough left to plant an acre of ground this spring. If this is a good year for potatoes I expect to sell as many as I did last year, and I have also the old pig, which may prove a little fortune to me in the future. Now to, finish my composition, I can say that out of the dollar I had in the first place I have sold as much potatoes and pork as would feed one hundred soldiers for thirty days. If every little girl in Ontario would proâ€" duce as much, there would be little trouble feeding the soldiers at the front. The father of the young man, Geo. Tucker, who was murdered at Wesâ€" ton not long since, died in the Lord Dufferin Hospital on Tuesday, the result of an injury sustained the preâ€" vious week. Tucker was driving along the principal street, when he saw a team running away.. He jumpâ€" ed from his own wagon, and attemptâ€" ed to stop the runaways by going in front of them and waving his arms. While directly in front of the team he feel, and was picked up insensible. Nothing could be done for him at the hospital where he was taken at once, and when an autopsy was held after his death it was found that he had fractured his skull. sUBURBAN TIME TABLE Weston Â¥ Cars leave West Toronto for Weston and Mount Dennis every 20 minutes: on the hour, 20 after and 20â€"to. Leave Weston on half hour, 10 to and10 after the hour. 7.50 11.05 6.11 7.40 Cars leave West Toronto every 16 minutes: on the hour, quarter past, half hour and quarter to. Leave Lambton on the hour, quarter past, half hour, and quarter to. Cars leave West Toronto on quarter to and after the hour. Leave Bathurst Street on quarter to and after the hour. Evelyn Crescent Woodbridge Cars leave West Toronto for Woodâ€" bridge every two bours: first car 6 AM.; last car 10 P.M. Leave Woodâ€" bridge: first car 7 P.M. last 11 P.M. zs 7.16, a.m: x. 9.10 a.m. dail . up.n. x. 4:45 p.m. x. T.0b pam. x. x Daily except Sunday. ACCIDENT AT ORANGEVILLE 8.04 a.m. x. 1022 am.«x. .25 p.m.x. 7.05 p.m. daily. 9O p.m.x. x Daily except Sunday. 8.38 9.45 5.53 am. 1150â€"CP.R., a.m. 8.27â€"CP.R., a.m. 9.10â€"GCTR., a.m. 10.22â€"G.T.R p.m. 5.53â€"C.EP.R. p.m. 7.05â€"G.T.R., p.m. 7.05â€"G.T.R., p.m., 6.10 Despatched am., 8.50 p.m., 5.30 THISTLETOWN & ETOBICOKE Received Office open from 6.30 a.m. daily except Sunday. a.m. daily. p.m. daily. Trains Going South a.m. daily. a.m. daily. p.m. daily. p.m. daily. T.15â€"GT.R, 8.27â€"CP.R. 9.10â€"G.T.R., 10.22â€"G.T.R 4.45â€"G.T.R., 1.05â€"G.T.R., 7.05â€"G.T.R., Trains Going North Mt. MAILS RECEIVED DISPATCHED am. 12 (noon) . R. TIME TABLE Going East R. TIME TABLE Going West Dennis received am., 11.10 Despatched a.m. 8.30 Davenport Lambton A. J. BARKER, P.M, No. No. 28. No. 705. No. 31. No daily. 29. 705. 31. 28. 189. 37. 34. 28. 707. 37. 34. a.m. to 6.30 1st. Fill in on blank side of tags your name andâ€" address, also your County as given on your application. Total No. Fleeces inâ€"sack or bag. Toâ€" tal No. sacks or bags. 2nd. There are two tags for each sack or bag. Place one tag inside the mouth of sack or bag before sewing up and securely fasten the other to the sack about the middle of the mouth. Do not attach tags to ears or carners of sack. Instructions re Shipping: 1st Be careful to protect your fillâ€" ed sacks from rain. _ 2nd Ship so that wool will have amâ€" ple time to reach Guelph between June ist and July 15th. 3rd Do not prepay freight, express or any other charges. Eollow them carefully; they are imâ€" portant! 4th As soon as you have shipped forward the freight shipping advice or the express company‘s receipt to R. W. WADE, . Winter Fair Building, Guelph, Ont. Use of Shipping Tags INSTRUCTIONS TO SHIPPERS EVANGELINES LAND TO HAVE A SHRINE The pioneers of Nova Scotia have blazed a trail over which a brush and palette laden army will follow in seasons to come. They will come to paint the gentle beauty of appleâ€" blossoms when the great Annapolis Valley is covered with a fragrant pink and white veil, They will come in cherry time to paint the rich red fruit and the happy people enjoying the Cherry Festival, a time honored custom. > They will come in autumn to transfer to canvas the mad riot of brilliant coloring with which Nature palnts the woods and hillsides and when the orchards groan bensath new Mecca is beckoning to deâ€" A votees of art and religion. Its name is Nova Scotia. Already the artists have made their pilgrimage and returned with charming picturés of Evangeline‘s Land. A collection of sixty paintings, the work of six New York men, known as the Nova Scotia Group, were exhibited recentâ€" y in New York and elicited much praise. A giant of the orchard in full bloom, The fisherman doing his bit, Memorial Park, Grand Pre, N.S DT ure ces 4e haxtranina +tn daâ€"ltheir heavy burdened boughs of!The railway company has purchased Farmers : Gardeners, Truckâ€" stere Creameries and. other Sundry %ricultural sers GOVERNMENT DEPARTMENTS 91 MANUFACTURERS Metalsâ€"All Classes 36 Furniture . 5 Packers, etc. 38 Building Materials 14 Printers and AGRICULTURE _ Publishers 24 Sundry 146 RETAIL MERCHANTS Dyers Dairies Dept. Stores Druggists Dry Gaods Flour and Feed Florists Bakers Butchers Coal, Wood Cleaners and Classified List of 9,706 Conâ€" secutive Ford Sales yers _ x 3 is\if%"c'fli'iié}&'[ ete. â€" 10L 101 _ _â€"â€" es ries . alesmen 92 .95 SUNDRY t. Stores 61 .61 _ Real Estate and Not included in iggists 30 30 Sundry 258 2.67 above classifiâ€" ; Gaods 25. _ .25 cation 1,156 11.93 ur and Feed 14 14â€" _ PUBLIC SERVICE w o an rists 9 .09 CORPORATIONS 24 .24 Grand Total 9,706 100. Gallons of ink and acres of paper are sometimes used to convey the thought summed up in this chart which states facts. Out of 9,706 consecutive sales, 8,550 purchasers regard the Ford car as a necessity in either agricultural or industrial activity. Only 11.95 per cent of these cars are being used, other than primarily for business. Prepare to meet business competition by buying a Ford. Runabout â€" â€" $575 Sedan â€" â€"~ â€" $970 Touring â€" â€" â€" 595. @ Oneâ€"Ton Truck 750 Coupe â€" â€" â€" 770 Chassis â€" â€" â€" 535 § F. O. B. Ford, Ontario w c o0 _ All prices subject to war tax charges, except trucks and chassis Graham & Carton Weston, Ont. Per Total Cent 5062 52.20 173 66 122 27 47 22 30 61 30 25 14 The Dominion Atlantlic Railway that swings you around & halfâ€"circle from Halifax to Yarmouth, takes you through & Land of Romance, the Land of Evangeline. At the little station of Grand Prg you will find a wide. meadow Which is soon to be transformed intb & shrge. Here previous to 1715, stqu 6 Roman Cathollc Chureh of Bt. Charles, the church of the Acadians. Toâ€"day a massive stone cross marks the site of the old burying ground that surâ€" rounded the church and nearby is Evangeline‘s Well, with its long sweep. 6 their heavy burdened boughs of ripened apples. They will come at all seasons to picture the quaint fAsherfolk and their quainter surâ€" roundings. The French Acadians have always cherished & reverence for this spot and now through the generosity of the Dominion Atlantic gaflwa.y Comâ€" pany they may call it théir own. 1.73 .24 1.50 .66 1.30 n 47 .36 .05 .38 .14 .91 Gents‘ Furnishing and Tailoring Store MAIN STREET, WESTON PHONE NO. 2 STRAW HATS tables Grocers Hardware Ice Jewelers Lumber Plumbers Stationery Tailors Tobacco Undertakers Shoes Retail Salesmen Sundry Fruit and Vegeâ€" JOBBERS Oil, Paint, Grease 7 Hardware 18 Building Material _6 Dry Goods 17 Groceries, etc. 46 Sundry 144 Implements, > Machinery, etc. 101 Salesmen 92 Real Estate and Sundry 258 AGENTS W. E. COLEMAN Per Total Cent All Sizes, Shapes and Prices 32 200 46 11 44 227 CAPS AND FELT HATS All for the Summer Time 10 62 43 14 20 .82 2.10 46 .01 10 .62 43 14 .20 .05 .08 1 2.40 .07 .18 .06 AZ 46 1.50 Total Cent TRANSPORTATION § Baggage, Express 89 Bus, Livery, Texi _ _ Cab Railroad Sundry TRADES Buildings, Conâ€" tractors Painters, Decor‘n- tors Engineers, Mechâ€" anics Sundry PROFESSIONAL Doctors _ Veterinaries Bankers CHARITABLE INSTITUTIONS TOTALâ€"Primâ€" arily for busifiess use SUNDRY Not included in above classifiâ€" cation. The railway company has purchased this meadow and will make it into. an oldâ€"fashioned garden surrounded: with a rustic fence and has deeded a‘ portion of the ground to the Societie‘ L‘Assomption, composed of French‘ Acadians, of whom the Rev. O. V.! Landry of Butoche, N.B., is Presi«‘ dent. The only consideration for| this transfer is the promise of the Sb-f cietie to erect a chapel. . This they; are eager to do and plans are now under consideration. 8,550 88.05 271 38 17 121 130 91 202 20 43 40 10 2.90 .38 47 1124 1.41 .91 2.10 20 A3 Per .40 89 10 _