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Manitoba, United States and England. Machine Oil, Harness Oil, Axle Grease and Hoof Ointment, go to Cwiui Authorized. . 2,000,000 Puid Up. ........... 1.000.000 Reserve Fund . . . . . 850.000 ROBINSON COBBETTJ PROPRIETURS. DURHAM AGENCY. of the best makes HEAD OFFICE, TORONTO. DEPARTMENT. For all kinds of THE SAVINGS BAR K .1. REILLY, Agent. RTAKING PRICES OUT 15.) a First Class Hearse l. I A. Classic. and Modern. The Harneumaker. sure M: - MT. FOREST. 2 Cu pleas.» can purchased here. c. L. 0mm. {If Hon DUR HA M , ONT. .\I ANAG ER HI'SQ‘ '1'“ “If I were her brother I would warn her that her present career is not one upon which she will look back with pleasure when the exciteâ€" ment is over,” he said to himself; “but it Wilford is satisfied it is not for me to interfere. It is surely no- thing to me what Katy Cameron does," he kept repeating to himself; but as often as he said it. there came up before him a pale, anxious face, shaded with Helen Lennox's bands of hair, and Helen Lennox's voice whisâ€" Dered to him: “Save Katy. for mv Though flattered, caressed, and ad- mired, Katy Was not doing herself much credit at Newport; but save Wilford, there was no one to raise a warning voiCe, until Mark Ray came down for a few days' respite from the heated city, where he had spent the entire summer, taking charge of the business which belonged as much to Wilford as to himself. But Wil- ford had a wife; it was more neces- sary that he should leave, Mark had argued; his time would come by and by. And so he had remained at home until the last of August, when he appeared suddenly at the Ocean House one night when Katy, in her airy robes and child-like simplicity, was breaking hearts by the score. Like others, Mark was charmed, and not a little proud for Katy's sake, to see her thus appreciated; but when one day's experience had shown him more, and given him a look behind the scenes, he.trembled for her, knowâ€" ing how hard it would be tor her to come out of that sea of dissipation as pure and spotless as she went in. As it had liq-n at Saratoga. so it was at Newport. Urged on by Mrs. Cameron and llell, who enjoyed her notoriety, Katy plunged into the mad excitement of dancing and driving and eoqueting, until Wilford himself became uneasy, locking her once in her room. where she was sleeping afâ€" ter dinner, and conveniently forget- ting to release her until after the departure at evening of some young men from Cambridge. whose attenâ€" tions to the Ocean House belle had been more stroneg marked than was altogether agreeable to him. Of course it was a mistakeâ€"the locking of the doorâ€"and a great owrsight in him not to have remembered it soon- er. he said to Katy. by way of apol- ogy; and Katy, with no suspicion of the truth, laughed merrily at the joke repeating it down stairs to the old dowagers, who shrugged their shoul- ders meaningly and whispered to each other that it might be well if more young wives were locked into their rooms and thus kept out of mischief. 'l‘hen laying her head upon the rock where she was sitting, Katy tried to pray as she had not p‘ayed in months asking that (lod would let h her what she otight to know an: keep her unspotted from the woild. But at the Tilountain House it is eaSier to pray that. one be kept. from tempta- tion than it is at Saratoga, which this stllilmel' was crowded to over- flowing. its streets presenting a lit- ting picture of Vanity Fair, so full ' were they of show and gala dress. ’At the [Suited States, where Mrs. y Cameron stopped, two rooms, for which an enormous price was paid, had been reserved for Mr. and Mrs. \Vilford Cameron, and this of itself would have given them a certain eclat, e\'en if there had not been presâ€" ent many who remembered the proud, fastidious bachelor, and “'et'e propor- tionately anxious to See his wife, She came, she saw, she ctmqueretl; and within three days after her ar- rival Katy ('ainei‘ou was the ac- knowledged belle of Haratog‘a, from the United States to the. (‘larendoIL And Katy, alas, was not quite the same as she who on the mountain ridge had sat with Morris’s letter in her hand, praying that its teachings might not be forgotten. Saratoga seemed different from New York, and she plunged into its gaieties, never pausing. never tiring, and seldom giving herself time to think, much less to pray, as Morris had hidden her do. And Wilford, though hard- ly able to recognize the usually timid Katy in the brilliant woman who led rather than followed, was sure of her faith to him, and so was only proud and gratified to see her hear of! the palm from every competitor, While Juno, though she quarreled with the shadow into which she was so com- pletely thrown. enjoyed the eclat cast uponntheir party by the presence of Mrs. Wilford, who had passed be- yond her criticism. Sybil (Brandon, too, stood back in wonder that a simple country girl should win and wear the laurels she had so long,r claimed as her own; but as there was no he!) for it she contented herself as hcst she could with the admira- tion she did receive, and whenever Opportunity occurred, said bitter things of Mrs. Wilford, whose parent- age and low estate were through her pretty generally known. But it did not matter there what Katy had been; the people took her for What. she was now, and Sybil's glory fad- ed like the early dawn in the coming of the full day. shall and v --‘- “Keep yourself unspotted from the work " Morris had said, and 3110 re- peated it. to herself, asking “how This was the su‘fiStance of Morris's letter, which Katy read with stream- ing eyes, forgetting Saratoga as Mor- ris’s solemn words of warning and admonition rang in her ears, and shuddering as she thought of losing the life eternal, of going where Mor- ris would never come, nor any of those she loved the best, unless it were Wilford, who might reproach her with having dragged him there when she collld haVe saved him. %%%$$$fi%$%%$$$%$x %* fPurified * * by Suffering $$999$9999999£99QW$W§§ 'u (H He too how can one Im good “\‘.‘ilfm-,'d siu- added in a post- script. “hus game donn to bathe. and as the mail is just closing, 1 .shull send this lflter Without his 399- ing it. Of course it can make no difierencv, for l have talked ,3”. sum- But Katy remained true to herself. Dropping her girlish playfulness, she assumed a quiet, gentle dignity which became her even better than her gayer mood had done, making her ten times more popular and more sought after, until she begged to go away, persuading Wilford at last to name the day for their departure, and then, never doubting for a mo- ment that her destination was Sil- vprton. she wrote to Helen that she should be home on such a day, and as they would comeoby way of Provi. dence and Worcester, they wo ll! probably reach West SiIVerton at ten o'clock, 11.111. The guests were beginning to re- turn from the beach by this time, and as Mark. had said all he had in- tended saying, he left Katy with Wilford, who had just come in and joined a merry party of Bostonians only that day arrived. That night at the Dream House the guests miss- ed something from their festivities; the dance was not so exhilirating or the small-talk between so lively, while more than one white-kidded dandy swore mentally at the inno~ cent Wilford, whose wife declined to join in the gaieties, and in a plain white muslin, with only a pond lily in her hair, kept by her husband's side, notwithstanding that he bade her leave him and accept some of her numerous imitations to join the gid- dy dance. This sober phase of Katy did not on the whole please Wilford as much as her gayer ones had done. All he had ever dreamed of the sen~ sation his bride would create was more than verified. Katy had ful- tilled his highest expectations, reach- ing a point from which. as she had said to Mark, she could dictate to his mother, if she chose, and he did not care to see he relinquish it. “I doubt if Wilford would let me send for her, nor does it matter, as I shall not remain much longer. I do not need her now, SilH'U you have shown me how foolish I have been. I was angry at first, but now [thank you for it, and so will Helen. I shall tell her when 1 am in Silver- ton. I am going there from here. and oh, I so wish it was toâ€"day." It would be a study to watch Hel- en Lennox there at Newport, and in imagination Mark was already her sworn knight, shielding her from criticism, and commanding for her respect. from those who respected him when Katy tore his rustle down by answering impulsively: “Why not send for her?" Mark asked, casting about in his mind whether in case Helen camp, he, too, could tarry for a Week and leave that business in Southbridge. which he must attend to ere returning to the city. "Yes, Helen finds good in all. She sees diflerently from What I do, and I Wish so much that she was here." Mark did not know Why he had dragged Helen into that, conversa- tion, unless it were that she seemed very near to him as he talked with Katy, who replied: “Not alwaysâ€"not wholly," “Man-k answered; “and still you misjudge it greatly, for all are not like the peo- ple you describe. Your husband’s family represent one extreme, while there are others equally high in the social scale who do not make fu- shion the rule of their livesâ€"sensible, cultivated, intellectual people, of whose acquaintance one might be gladâ€"people whom I fancy your sis- ter Helen would enjoy. 1 have only met her twice, but my impression is that she would not lind New York distasteful . " Katy’s tears had ceased, and on her white face there was a new look of womanhood, as if in that out- burst, she had changed, and would never again be just, What she was before. I am with these people 1 shall never be any better. Mark Ray, you don’t know what it is to be surrounded by u set. who care for nothing but fa- shion and display, and how they may outdo each other. I hate New York society. There is nothing there but husks.” "Say,” she continued, New York society?" “She. had been held up as my pat- tern," she said, half bitterly, and forgetting to whom she was talking â€"“she, the one whom I was to imit- ate; and when I found that I could go beyond her, I yielded to the temptation, and exalted to see how far she was left behind. Besides that," she continued, “is it no gra- tification, think you, to let Wilford’s proud mother and sister see the poor country girl, whom ordinarily they would dospise, stand where they can- not come, and men (litiilit‘ to them if she chooses so to do? 1 know it In wrongâ€"I know it is wickedâ€"but 1 l1ke thehexcitcment, and so long as For a moment Katy was indignant but when he said to her kindly: “Would Helen be pleased?" her tears started at once, and she attempted an excuse for her weak folly, accus- ing Sybil Grandon as the first cause of the ambition for which she hated herself. sake," and so next day, when Mark found himself alone with Katy,whi1e most of the guests were at the beach, he questibned her of her life at Sara- toga and Newport, and gradually, as he talked, there crept into Katy’s heart a suspicion that he was not pleased with her account, or with what he had seen of her since his arrival. MARY J. HOLMES, BY (10 you like Dear, simple-hearted Uncle Ephra- im! the days which he must. wait seemed long to him as they did to the other members of his family. But they were all gone now,â€"â€"Katy ' would be home to-morrow, and with the shutting in of night the candles were lighted in the sitting room, and Helen sat down to her work, wishing it was to-night that Katy was com- ing. As if in answer to her wish I there was the sound of wheels, which {stopped before the house, and dropâ€" ‘ping her work Helen ran quickly to the door, just as from under the dripping umbrella held by a driver boy, a tall young man sprang upon the step, nearly upsetting her, but passing an arm around her shoulder: in time to keep her from falling. "i beg pardon for this assault up- on you," the stranger said; and then turning to the boy he continued: “It’s all right, you need not wait.” With a chirrup and a blow the horse started forward, and the mud- bespattered vehicle was mOVing down the road ere Helen had recovered her surprise at recognizing Mark Ray, who shook the rain-drops from his hair, and oflering her his hand said in reply to her involuntary exclama- tion: “I thought it was Katy." “Shall I infer then that I am less welcome?" and his bright, saucy eyes looked laughingly into hers. Busiâ€" ness had brought him to Southbridge he laid, and it was his intention to talie the cars that afternoon for New York. but having been detajned long- I i l l From a family in Silverton, who had spent a few days at a private house in Newport, Helen had heard son'iething of her sister’s life: the. lady had seen her once driving a tanâ€" dem down the aVenue, with Wilford at her side giving her instructions. Since then there had been some anxi- ety felt for her at the farm-house, and more than llr. Grant had prayed that she might be kept unspotted from the world; but when her letter came. SO full of lm e and selfâ€"re- proaches, the burden was lifted, and there Was nothing to mar the antici- pations of the event for which they had made so many preparations, Uncle Ephraim going to the expense of buying at auction at half-worn cov- ered buggy, wnich he fancied would suit Katy better than the corn-color- ed wagon in which she used to ride. To pay for this the deaCon had part- ed with the money“ set aside. for the, "great coat" he so much needed for the coming winter, his old gray hav- ing done him service for fifteen years. But his comfort was nothing compar- ed with Katy's happiness, and so, with his wrinkled face beaming with delight, he had brought home his buggy. putting it carefully in the barn. and saying no one should ride in it till Katy came. With uniting patience the old man mended up his harness. for what he had heard of Katy's driving had impressed him strongly with her powers of hose manship, and raised her somewhat lll hisirespect. Could he RaVe af‘iorted it Uncle Ephraim in his younger days i would haVe been a. horse jockey. and ‘ even now he liked nothing better‘ than to make ()ld Whitley run when alone in the strip of woods between 1 his house and the head of the pond. “Katy inherits her love of horsm from me, ” he said complacenth; and with it flew of improving Whitey’ s style. and mettle, he took to feeding him on oats, talking to him at times, and telling him who was coming. I l I i i “What could it be?” Aunt lsetsy had asked in her simplicity, feeling an increased respect for Katy, and consenting; the more readily to the change in her pongee, as suggested to her by llelen. But that, was for to-tnorrow when Katy came; to-night she only wore a dotted brown, whose hem just. reached the top of her ”bootees.” as she \tent to strain the milk brought, in by lfncle Ephraim, while llelen took her position near the window, looking drearily out upon the. leaden clouds, and hoping it would brighten before the morrow. Like the others, Helen had read Katy's letter many times, dwelling longest upon the part which said: “1 have been so bad, so frivolous and wicked here at Xew- port, that it will be a relief to make you my confession, depending, as I do, upon your loVe to grant me. ab- solution." The last day of summer was dying out in a fierce storm of rain which swept in sheets across the Silverton hills, hiding the pond from View. and beating against the windows of the farm-house, whose inmates were nev- ertheless unmindful of the storm save as they hoped the morrow wouId prove bright and fair, such as the day should be which brought them back their Katy. Nearly worn out with constant reference was her let- ter, the mother catching it up from time to time to read the part referâ€" ring to herself, where Katy had told how blessed it would be “to rest again on mother’s bed," just as she had so oftenvwished to do, “and hear mother’s voice,” the deacon spelling out by his spluttering tallow candle, with its long, smoky wick, what she had said of “darling old Uncle Bph," and the rides into the fields; Aunt Betsy, too, reading mostly from memory the words: “Good old Aunt. Betsy, with her skirts so limp and short, tell her she will look hand- somer to me than the fairest helle at; Newport;” and as often as Aunt Betsy redd it, she would ejaculate: mér of coming, and ne understands it." CHAPTER XX. “Have you a sister?" Helen asked, now really interested, and listening intently while Mark told her of his only sister Julia, now Mrs. Ernst. whose home was in New Orleans, though she at present was in Paris, and his mother was there with her. “After Julia's marriage, nine years , ago, mother went to live with her,” i he said, “but latterly, as the little Ernsts increase so fast, she wished I for a more quiet home, and this win- ter she is coming to New York to keep house for me." It was a novel position in which Mark found himself that night, an inmate of a humble farm-house, where he could almost touch the ceiling with his hand, and where his surroundings were so diflerent from what he had been accustomed to; hut. unlike Willoxd Cameron. he did “It’s Will and ithe Cnmerons," Mark thought, blaming Helen less than he would have done, if he, too, had not. known something of the Cqmeron pride. v w---" I on, and Helen let herself down to an- other degree of toleration for the man whose mother taught her daugh- ter to mend the family socks. Still there was about her a reserve. which Mark wondered at, for it was not thus that ladies were accustomed to receive his advances. He did not. guess that Wilford Cameron stood between him and Helen’s good opin- ion; but when, after the family came in, the conversation turned upon Katy and her life in New York, the secret came out in the sharp, caustic manner with which she spoke of New YonkAand its people. Helen thought she might like Mark's mother, who, he told her, had been twice married, and was now Mrs. Banker, and a widow. She must be different from Mrs. Camer- “My mother did not always mend herself, but she caused it to be done, and sometimes helped. I, remember she used to say a woman should know how to do everything pertain- ing to a household, and she carried out her theory in the education of my sister." Perhaps Mark Ray liked holding that small, warm hand, even thongh it were not as white and soft as Juno's: at all events he did hold it until Helen drew it from him with a quick, sudden motion, telling him it would do very well, and she would not trouble him. Mark did not look as if he had been troubled, but went back to his seat and took up the Conversation just where the needle had stopped it. “Bind it tightly round. Let me show you, please," Mark‘ said, and ere she was aware of what she was doing, Helen was quietly permitting the young man to wind her hand- kerchief around her thumb which he held in his hand, pressing it until the blood ceased flowing, and the sharp pain had abated. “Your mother mend socks!" and Helen started so suddenly as to run the point of her dawning-needle a long way into her thumb, the wound bringing a stream of blood which she tried to wipe away with her handker- chief. I see. 8119 used {0 mend my socks. on j‘uesday nights.” head, and ornamented with neither ribbon, comb, nor bow. Only a Single geranium leaf, with a hhite sca.let blossom, was fastened just below the ear, and on the side Where Mark could see it best, admiring its efiect and forgetting the arrangement of the hair in his admiration of the well-shaped head, bending so indus- triously OVC‘l' the work' which llelen had resumedâ€"not crocheting, nor yet embroidery, but the very homely work of darning Uncle Ephraim’s socks, a task which llelen always did, and on that particular night. Helen knew it was not delicate em- ployment, and there was a moment’s hesitancy as she Wondered what Mark would thinkâ€"then, with a grim de- light in letting him see that she did not care, she resumed her darning- needle, and as a kind of penance for the flash of pride in which she had indulged, selected from the basket the very coarsest, ugliest sock she could find, stretching out the huge fracture at the heel to its utmost extent, and attacking it with a right good will, while Mark, with a comical look on his face, sat watch- ing her, and her cheeks were growing very red, while her hatred of him was increasing, when he said, abrupt- ly: “You follow my mother's custom, Thus at her easo on this point, she grew more talkative, half wishing that her dress was not a shilling calico, or her hair combed back quite so straight, giving lwr that severe look which Morris had said was un- becoming. It was \cry smooth and glossy. and Sybil (lrandon would have given her best diamond to have had in her own natural right the heavy coil of hair bound so many times around the back' of Helen's “I presume not," Helen replied, a weight suddenly lifting from her heart at the prospect of not haVing to entertain the formidable brother- in-law who, if he staid long, would spoil all her pleasure. “Are you exyecting Mrs. Camer- on?" he asked, adding, us Helen ex- plained that“ she was coming tu-mor- row. “That i4 strange. Wilford Wrote decidedly that, he should be in New ‘York to-morrow. Possibly, thongh, he does not intend himself to stop." There was something in this pleas- ant. familiarity which won Uncle Ephraim at once, and he bade the young man stay, as did Aunt Han- nah and Mrs. Lennox, who now for the first time was presented to Mark Ray. Always capable of adapting himself to the circumstances around him, Mark did 9",» now with so much ease and. courtc..usness as to aston- ish Helen, and partly thaw the re- serve she had assumed when she found the visitor was from the hated city. the looks of the hotel arrangements, he had decided to presume upon his acquaintance with Dr. Grant, and spend the night at Linwood. “But, " and again his eyes looked straight at Helen, “it rained so hard and the light from your window was so in- viting that I ventured to stop, so here I am, claiming your hospitality until morning, if convenient; if not, I will find my way to Linwood." er than he expeizted, and flat liklfi'g Scott’s Emulsion is a mixed food; the Cod Liver Oil in it makes flozh. blood and muscle. the Lime and Soda make bone md brain. It is the standard 'ricntific food for dclic at c ‘iidren. But how about the children? Are they fed according to science, a bone food if bones are soft and undeve10pcd, a flesh and muscle food if they are thin and weak and a blood food if there is anemia? The up-to-date farmer knows what to feed his cows to get the most milk, his pigs to get the most pork, his hens to The matter of feed is of tremendous importance to the farmer. Wrong feeding is 1055. Right feeding is profit. ed. and teaspoontul salt; break two eggs into mixture and beat well; add cup milk. Pour this over cup flour; add two teaspoontuls baking powder. It the butter is too thick, add a little milk. Bake on a hot griddle. Mark was in no haste 1.. “‘UH‘. conduct him to his room, lu‘ 1:.mklv answered that he Was 1'...» sh...” adding, as he turned In llmmi; “Please let me stay until 31.» Lou- nox finishes her socks. ‘lmn- are several pairs yet undarnvd. 1 will not detain you, tliOUgh," 1w ('nntlnu- 0d, bowing to Uncle Ephraim. who, a little uncertain what to do, :lelly departed, as did Aunt Hannah and his sister, leaving Helen and her mother to entertain Mark Bay. It had been Mrs. Lennox’s first inten- tion to retire also, but a look from Helen kept her. and she sat down by that basket of socks, while Mark wished her away. Awhile they talk- 0d of Katy and New York, Mark laboring to convince Helen that its people were not all heartless and fickle, and at last citing his mother as an instance. Preu cup of Cold boiled rice through sieve; add tablespoonful butter, melt- Pnanr ~ (Hi-Hm " Store, 1"'\\"‘ l “the evil one had got her once." mentally for her wandering tho] mising to do better. “A right nice chap, and m atom stuck up," was Aunt 1] mental comment, and then 1 often will do, Satan followed saintly woman even to her making her wonder if “Mr. hadn't some notion after IL She hoped not, for she 3mm Morris should huVe livlw... 1 if 'twas to be it was, um >1“. f not go agin it;"um1ui.;le Betsy thus settled Un- «.._.- Ephraim's prayer emiud, .«mi conscienceâ€"smitten mmmn 41! w. her knees with the ('(HHIMLHL A. there were only Prayer Book. enough for the family, Helen, in dis- tributing them, purposely Mark by, thinking he might n to join them. But when the Verse came round to Helen he quickly drew his chair near to hers, and ta one side of her book, performed his part, while Helen's face grew as red as the blossoms in her hair, and be, hand, so near to Mark's. trembled visibIY. Owing to Helen’s influence t had been a. change of the olden tom, and instead of the ter, through which Uncle Ephr used to plod so Wearily, there ‘ now read the Evening Psalms. A Betsy herself joined in the road which she mentally classed with “quirks," but confessed to he: that it “was most as good as Bible. ' ' .05 'llh‘ m away, no“. \‘r‘ Wt ‘1'. Aunt Betsy's Old-f k ed ways. or Uncle Ephraim}. ; mu. He noticed Aunt Bets“ itia, it is true. and noticed U Ephraim's grammar; but the Sigh, Helen sitting there, With so . dignity and self-3.05pect, mildew look beyond all else, Straight - her open face and clear lirmx'n ‘0 where there was nothing “hm”?! or distasteful. Her language "h correct, 1101‘ Hummer, Silfing u If“: stifiness, lady-like and retinod; Mark enjoyed his situation as an invited guest, making himself agreeable that Uncle Ephraim f0 ‘ his hour of retiring, nor (“some his mistake until, with a 1mm Saw Aunt Betsy told him that, it ' half-past nine, and she “as 9 v ‘ deep“! sleepy. Rice Griddlccakec. CHEMISTS. '1 Toronto. Ontario. 53c. 33‘ 3|; all dwggisu. ”0 am that this picture the (am 0‘1 label as nl‘ “("9121 0‘ every bum: Ian-um you buy Send for free the M OI'I- lamieson . Macd m inns and Hurgmm, ”19m l2». m..2 1.. 4: onion. Old Rank 1. . Durham. 'l‘tfivhln» z "Wâ€"â€"~ ”it. flashy“?! ial; n m max-mu e of l‘t’l'Nh .FFICE,, .‘N D J money tn ”any. HYBICIAN A \ h \ nvnr MCI m 'M: nunsa_ 901,132“) mm fiflfiflfll' 5-.” 4w - 89 "“ “mum m -~ __-.r . “ forlran hue h" .11an s ‘ ”Eb-5'0” W a over McLavM 1,8 M IO I. m.. 2n. . 6M! ‘t‘filninh man and children 'ONOR GRADE A w‘“;~'fl\. ARBISTEI‘I. ’ Helmyre'râ€"l I. Collectiun fled to. Sea W. S. 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