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Parker’s TELY LOW’. Fall Goods. Ccme 9-9% I ’ Vtvea r be following re Paiters Sdale Boy.” “tom ptly attended to. ' GE 0 (I) our Straw and t the following SP: $.94 $133. $154)}. ’ his. RSIGNRD BEGS TO he Farmers and Horse- “:m and vicinit that ha horoughbred 1311658810 =dale Boy,” as per an- 4O 50 4O ARRIAG THE SHOE MAN. .AN T. Cattle v- 4 ‘ ’13‘ 43‘ “a? I“: a. I/ \ u, Drug 4;) £17812 k) Store With Catt! e. 1.50 .25 I 8’: ’m‘ ‘V’; 4;? \‘M! \V’; \Ir .4 an? «a. KW, '4? {We I) ‘\b Q?! vour answered. ‘\\nm a 5M u..- .. .. had here I” "I hoped." she said, "that you were move this kind of thing." "What kind of thing '3” "Oh. 1h: g£.»in_r-g.>ing-gone bu inessl” me replied. "1 hate lasc anythings. mn‘: they just a littleâ€"shop-soil- ed. PfI feel that I ought to come in with .comersational waltz refrain,” she epiied. ”but it’s difficult even for me hays to be obvious." The young man Looked grieved and tade no answer. “You were about,” she. observed "to shy something about the Southern "Surely,“ she said, “you won’t throw away your Opportunities? Aren’t you going to gaze on the Southern Cross .n a few weeks and think of me 3” “Va; likmy.” he answered, quietly; "'inat's rqgm.” she pursued. “No young munvf ft-eling, within sighting {Stance of the Southern Cross, should negiect it. I, on the other hand, shall look at the Great. Bear and think of you.” "i oniy Insant that it’s been rath- Mawarm Jan); and are you fond 0f Dicfcliug? And it‘s non a bad floor to- night." "Aren’t you just a little ungrate- lui?‘ she said. "I only wantedâ€"-â€"” "1 undusrand. A nice, cold shower bathos," he answered. “You needn’t be :1:de [sh-all bother you. 0pr {should like to thank you for havxng 3‘?“ me the happxest fortnight of my hie. and to wish you good luck.” "You are,” she said scftly, “rather Some day," he answered, "I trnst thil shail be a nasty man. A {use 003' s a :hing Wat. is supposed neithâ€" er.:o mind nor matter." Jack," She said, putting her hand 9n 5'5 arm, ”without prejudice, as the WIVES 533- would you mind less 11 12 ‘dld matter ?" 215,11 quite impossible T’ he asked. '.\",e‘~1. isn’t it?" she answered. .01.°°urse, we should have to wait,” he sand, "but couldn’t you wait awhxle, Who. .99 IT “Have you been to any theaters la: ely‘?‘ he asked. '50," she 3m, “but you must have Waited sume rwlly pathetic melo- dramas “Does nothing my I” ‘You re 8 we Southvru Cross? Why should ver woman b. ' ' icuiar young man and m had enjoyed their fort: 9 full. and the arrange- he climax were above re- ,mc kind person had pro- 69, there was an old gar- bark of the house, and the ;urned on mulberry trees, and Lavender beds infront _; “"15 a situation where a ame'SL have quoted Brown- ng to-m0rrow, than V the me my people before I mm." the young man but a good time I’ve 521 U fih-water mark of 1111. :he love of an imm- mm for a girl whom \n for a fortnight and " consequences. Also 0; :1 fortnight concen- hOPe' (Ls. and concentrated 411g man and young , suff'u-iently intelli- ';:.ntage of their 0p- 36 might-have-said anxious memory of young man began. urly our last dance a: least for a long ever matter?” he enjoyed themselves immensely for the rest of the evening, although they im- agined themselves heart-broken. The young man said several things which he considered really cynical, and the young woman wallowed in a sense of martyrdom. They said goodâ€"by in the cold morning light, and she allowed him to kiss her. The kiss they re- garded as a kind of sacrament. Now, in the ordinary course of events, the episode might have ended satisfactorily here. The young m,an would have blown his nose violently when the band played “The Girl I Left Behind Me,” and murmured the young woman’s name when he felt seasick, and then relapsed into remembering the whole thing with a sigh and a complacent smile. The young wo- man’s recollection would have depend- ed on her attitude toward her hus- band. Till her husband occurred, she would have practiced recollection but little. Unfortunately, the Angel of Death, with his habitual disregard of the fit- ness of things, disturbed the even course of the affair. The young man had possessed a mercantile cousin, and the cousin, having gone, two or three days before, to a land where mercantile possessions are rigidly ex- cluded, had left the whole of his pro- perty to the young man. His reasons for this unexpected act of generosity were probably that he had never met the young man, which, in view of the old gentleman’s temper, was an ad- vantage, and also that the latter cul- tivated martial aspirations underneath his mercantile soul, even to the ex- tent of being“ at one time a captain of volunteers, and regarded the young man with favor, as being the only military specimen of the family. Therefore, when the young man? rOSe from his brief sleep on the follow- l mg morning, he found a solicitor’s let- ter informing him of his good fortune. At first the information appeared too good to be true, but the additional in- formation that he was at liberty to draw on the firm for any reasonable amount put the truth beyond question. The fact. that he was rich, portentously rich, at first filled him with an insane desire to shout. As a silent relief to his mental tension, he took his slippers off and threw them at the door. Then he put them on again, and Lit a pipe. All his life the young man had been in straitened circumstances. He had never had enough pocket money at school, or a satisfactory allowance since. Now he felt that he possessed satisfy. Visions of infinite possi- bilities rose before him. He even looked at his pipe with contempt. "And now,” he said to himself, tri- umphantly, “I shall be able to marry Kitty.” .-_-_..-.. 1...}! Oddly enough, the young woman had not stood in the forefront of the pos- sibilities. He noticed the fact with something of a start. Romance was not at its strongest in his mind that morning, because the kind person who provided the dance had also provided a pale pink champagne, which punish- ed even the most abstemious with the after horrors of excess. “Yes,” he insisted to himself, “I shall marry Kitty. Not much fear of being poor now.” 0 ‘ --3 A...‘. and!“ shad-e. Half against his dream pictures told him wanted though he would m to himself, to enjoy his own without any clog. ‘ 'SJ-_ ‘ 6. These things were hidden as yet from anything but the young man’s sub-con- ° finished dressing breakfast and tell the young woman of his happiness. The thought Ought to have suggested a triumphal proces- sion. but only presented itself as a logical and ObVlOUB proceeding._Also. if comers at brea it was romantic to reserve the news for the young woman, but the belief was artificial. He found the young woman sitting in the sunshine on the lawn. She was looking, too, preposterously healthy and happy. considering the circum- ._ _ -LI- 6-“ ovniain finite was aI'IulClzu. He found the young woman sitting in the sunshine on the lawn. She was looking, too, preposterously healthy and happy. considering the circum- Be was able to explain quite intelligibly what had happened. and th: young woman him quietly. In some ways he was a was a young woman of perception. “So now," he concluded. “of course, we' can be married just as soon as ever we like}? _- _- __-_.a. .m man-v me?” “Married? You V she said dreamiIY. suggested a new i' ter of fact, was t] “Why, what’s Aren't you SWAT. said. out. the young “(organ had want to marry me?" nightâ€"" he burst "Last night,” she said, "I refused you because you were poor. And last niggt was ygars ago to you.” “You 311?er dofi’t thi'fikâ€"vl'm such a. cad; as to let that make any difference Of course. I‘ know you were right last night." “No. I kn2w you're not a cad Jack. You happen m be a geptleman. That’s wpat complicates things so,” she sand “I don"t understand at all," he said. “You're very. very young, Jack,” she answered. He did look very young that morning. in his new aspect of a possible husband. ‘I’m no younger than I was last night, " he urged. “If I said; yesâ€"” she went on quiet. 1y. “If you said yes? Don’t you care for me still?” he asked. "Wait a moment,” she answered. “It I said yes, we would be married soon Then we should settle down to a quiet, humclrum. tin-exciting life. Do you re- alize that? Next year you wouldn't }\'ant to fiance with me all the even- lug... “Then. do you mean you don’t care for me?” ‘he asked. “No, I don’t care for you," she said, deliberately. She had watched his eyes for “the light that never was on sea and land,” but it had died away since the night before. “And I’ll tell you Why. Last night I was a great deal to you. i should have been the prettiest thing in a life that wasn’t very pretty. Now, I’m only a very small part of your life. That wouldn’t satisfy me." “Surely, you don’t mean what you say?” he pleaded. "Oh, yes, I do," she said, with alit; tle laugh. “I shouldn’t be adequate, and you wouldn’t be adequate. It wouldn’t do. Believe me, Jack, it wouldn’t. \Ve like each other, but we don’t love each other. Don’t let's be foolish any more. Let the dead past bury its dead. Youve a lot of are rears of enjoyment to draw, and you’d better go away and play now, with- out making too much of this.” “I never thoughtâ€"" he burst out. “No. Jack, I don’t think you ever did," she said, “or you’d agree with me. I know you want me just for the moment, because I’ve said no. but that’s the only reason. Run away and play. Good-by, Jack; I’d rather you’d go now.” “Kitty!” he exclaimed. ’ “Good-by. Jack,” the young woman said, with a smile. holding out her :hand. - a... . The young man too}. it, and strode away angrily. For several days he said evil things to himself about the young woman, and_ decided_ that _she was not worth caring for. Soon after- ward he decided that he never had car- ed for her. After another brief in- terval he came to the conclusion that she was an unusually nice girl, and that, some day, perhaps, if he met her he might try his luck again When the young woman married another man he felt sorry for her and the oth- er man, being under the impression that he held a permanent first mort- gage on her affections. which was a mistake, because the only mark which he left on the young woman’s mind ‘was a capacity for appreciating the other man. But the whole thing was a pity. It might have been such am excellent lit- tle piece of romance in two people’s lives, and it degenerated into the ex- posure of a flirtation. . Arctic So] an rncrs Are Now ofOplnEon That. the bread Disease May Be Ava-ted. Those who venture into the far North Without knowing the hygienic rules required for t’he preservation of ’health Or the means for preventing scurvy take their lives in their hands. The sad fate that often overtakes them awakens sympathy, but they invite it. Six yeans ago six Russian priests! were sent to labor among the Sam-‘ oyeds, who live near: the somth end of ! Nova Zembla. A comfortable but '3 had been erected for their use, and they might have spent the winter in good health if i; had not been for the fact that as priests of the Greek Church they were not permitted to eat meat. Their religion, however, per- mitted them to partake freely of salt fish, and this with tea and bread com- prised their diet. A more dangerous bill of fare for tihe Arctic winter could hardly he, invented. They had with them a Russian boy. who ate what the priests did, except that he did not touch salt meat, as the natives gave him a plentiful supply of fresh rein- deer meat. men camped the shore while - the crew of the W’indward, which had tak- en thim north and was prevented by ithe ice from returning that reason, luau: m Mmir ship- The land party NW WV â€"- -_- lived on their ship. The land party! ate freely of fresh" bear meat during, the winter, but the crew of the Wind- ward preferred tinned meats and some; of them refused to "eat any bear meat' at all. The JaCksozn party lived int good health for three years and not a, g them had been sick when iman amen . they returned home. On the other hand the crew of the \Vindward, Who ‘Idid not like $11ch fresh meat as the ' orded, m the one winter north suffered from scurvy 11 died of it. SCURVY IN ALASKA. MLG.0.AR€HIBALD’S CASE. TWO AND TWO ARE FOUR, NOT FIVE. and we imagine that in some way we â€"-â€" are going to be able to pay later. We Mr. Gouleby’s Application or a More or rarely discover the foolishness of this Less “mm" F-if‘o till debts tie us up“, and we have to “It seems strange,” said Mr. Goz- skip and go without and.do all man- ner of unpleasant stunts in borrowmg zle'by. “but it is nevertheless true, that and putting people off, and Suffering one of the very hardest lessons for us all the fret and worry that inevitably to Learn is the very simlp-le one that attend upon one in debt until we get two and two make four always, and squared “.9" ~ ' Very likely we do earn more money never five. In a general. sort of way ' but if we do- we have probably carried we learn this as soon as we learn any- With us our extravagant. or careless thing; but we don’t, actually realize habits, and we. continue to. spend more that it is so, and what it mleans, until l than we earn; and 5'0 With a larger rn'nnmp. we :me as badlv off as we. were Didn’t Walk for 5 Months. Doctors said Locomotor Ataxia. Milbum’s Heart and Nerve Pills Cure 3 Disease hitherto regarded as Incarable. The case of Mr. G. 0. Archibald, of Hapewell Cape, N.B., (a cut of whom appears below), is one of the severest and west intractable that has ever been we have had the lesson drilled into us by hard experience, and some of us never realize it then. \Ve go right alomg spending $2.50 a week on a $2 income, expecting soon to earn more, or that there’s going to be some re- markable exception in our case that will enable us to do {his and yet come out all right. \Ve can easily spend more than we earn by going in debt, reported from the eastern provinces, and his cure by Milburn's Heart and Nerve Pills the more remarkable from the fact that he was given up as incurable by worthy and respected physicians. __ _- w . A A ' _ __-24L N, G. J. MGKECHNIE. V'v--â€"J -v--â€" -"rv'__,r r J The disease, Locomotor Ataxia, with which Mr. Archibald was afliicted is considered the most obstinate and incurâ€" able disease of the nervous system known. When once it starts it gradually but surely progresses, paralyzing the lower extremities and rendering its vic- tim helpless and hopeless, enduring the indescribable agony of seeing himself die by inches. 3 ,_ That Milburn's Heart and' Nerve Pills can cure thoroughly and completely a disease of such severity ought to encour- age those whose disorders are not so serious to try this remedy. The following is Mr. Archibald’s letter: We beg to inform our e-ustomers and the public generally that. We have adopted the Cash System, which means Cash or its Equiv- alent, and that our motto will be “ Large Sales and. Small Profits.” We take this ' opportunity of that the new system will merit a. continuance or the same. 5d C t“... as H l / vv\pa Massas. T. MILBL'RN a Cowâ€""1 can assure you that my case was a very severe one, andhad it not been for the use of Milburn's Heart and Nerve Pills I do not believe I would be alive today. I do not know, exactly, what was the cause of the disease, but it gradually affected my legs, until I was unable to walk hardly any for five months. (I “ I was under the care of Dr. Morse, of Melrose, who said I had Locomotor Ataxia, and gave me up as incurable. “ Dr. Solomon, a well-known physician of Boston, told me that nothing could be- done for me. Every one who came to visit me thouwht I never could get better. “I saw LIilbum's Heart and Nerve Pills advertised and thought I would try them anyway, as they gave more proâ€" miscofhelpingmethananythinglknewof. “If you had seen me when I started { taking those wonderful pillsâ€"not able to - -‘A each! m- flnm‘ prize. “Very likely we do earn more money but if we do- we have probably carried with us our extravagant. or careless habits, and we continue to spend more than we earn; and so with a larger income we are as badly off as'we were with the smaller one: for all things are cotm'parative; and so we go on till some rude awakening- jolts us in- to a consciousness of the fact that we can’t stretch two and two into five; that two and two make four and no metre, with; no exceptions for anybody. If we insist on having $55 worth, though we’ve-got only $4 to pay with, _- J-‘1_.. I'llCo “ Nothing else in the world saved me but those pills, and I do not think they have an equal gnywhere. _ 1- 1. -_.,. “..,“..A have an equau any “tux.- u. “ The seven boxes I took have restored me the full use of my legs and given me strength and ener y and better health than I have enjoye in a long time.’ G. O. ARCHIBALD. huv‘woâ€" v- v . _ U we can get '11:, but ”thie otbérâ€" dollar ‘has got to be paid some time, sure, and - 4-.â€"-_ Jâ€"I‘.|.Im‘1r\'n it m‘éans trodb 1e. Lavrv 7"â€" -V-‘ In addition to the statement by Mr. Archibald, we have the endorsation of two well-known merchants of Hopewell Cape, N. B., viz.: Messrs. J. E. Dickson and F. J. Brewster, who certify to the gonuineness and accuracy of the facts as given above. Q Milbum's Heart and Nerve Pills are 50C. 9. box, or 3 for $1.25, at all dru . gists, or sent by mail. T. Milburn (30., Toronto, Ont. :3 by Hopewell Cape, “1 cu!