The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

Why Go F '_ Around .. We: in all principal points in On tnrio, Quebec. Innitoba, United States nnd England, ‘ general Banking business trans ”tad. ants issued und collections .030 on all points. Deposits reâ€" “'06 and interest allowed a' cur rent rates. but.“ allowed on Savings Bank de- podts of 81 and upwards. Promp= «union and every facility aflorded Moms" living at. a distance. Onpinl Authorized . . . 82,000.000 Md Up ............. 1.000.000 Monro Fund ...... .andaxd Bank of Canada HEAD OFFICE. TORONTO DURHAM AGENCY. Machine Oil, Harness Oil, Axle Grease and Boot Ointment, go to i. P. SAUNDERS “or Opal] ave! v afternoon, All BEPAIRIN prompt!) an: orly fittfinl d (.0. .7. allot. umpr. Of all Kinds. Galvanized and Iron Hp ing: Brass, Brass Linbr and Iron (‘vlinders. . D. CONNOR”- THE SAVINGS BARK With an illofitting ready-mad: unit, when you con get. a first wines fit. mode to order in thf ifihtb-r'st class of workmenehi; Ior about the some money? We have s large stock 0' SCOTCH TWEEDS. WOR STEDS md SBRGES. and w. gnarentee eetiefection. d. KELLY. Agent. . L. FLARITY Give no t trial. Pumps from $2 upward. Muwmnrr TAILOR. Manufacturer of And Dealer in - The llarnessmaher FOUNDRY W. D. COMM: 1 .000.000 and mm CHAPTER XXXIX. ' LANCH had kept her threat and literally taken possession . _ . of her new friend and in- \ '- stalled her in the guest room of the Nason residence. To be taken in hand, as it were, by a cultured and wealthy young lady, and to have a liv- eried and obsequious coachman on duty to convey them anywhere and everyâ€" where was a new experience. It was not long ere Alice began to feel her- self quite at home in the Nason family and to notice that Mrs. Nason treated her in a motherly way. “I see that you are fond of your lit- tle charges,” she said, after Alice had described her school and some of the peculiarities of her pupils who wore outgrown roundabouts or calico pina- fores, “and I suppose they grow fond of you as well.” C C A‘, v-‘vâ€" - “I try to make them,” replied Alice. “and I find that is the easiest way to govern them. I seldom have to punish any one. In a way, children are like grown people, and a little tact and a few words said in the right way are more potent than tear of punishment.” “And do you not find life in so small a place rather monotonous?” asked Mrs. Nason. U n 16 T e r 1' Y $0.... 0 {:53 “to... . :1“ o :2: 1" . a: “Oh, yes,” replied Alice, “it is not much like city life. It is delightful to have theaters and the excitement of social duties, as I imagine you have all the time, and yet I am not sure I should like it. I fancy once in awhile I should sigh for a shady spot in the woods in summer where I could read hvhghk or hear the birds sing. It is only in winter that I should like to live in the city.” Alice's stay in Boston passed rapidly until only two days were left, when Blanch said to her. “I have invited a few of my friends here to meet you to. night. and I want you to sing for me.” “Oh, please do not ask that,” replied Alice hastily. “I do not sing well enoughf’ â€""‘0 “But you sing in church, and that is much harder.” “That is nothing,” answered Alice, smiling. “Not one in ten of those country people know one note from an- other. Here all your friends hear the finest operatic singers, and I would cut a sorry figure in contrast." “But you will sing just once to please me, won’t you ?” pleaded Blanch. “I will not promise. I will see how many are here and how my courage holds out.” waited until Alice had become some what acquainted th the little gather- ing and the reserve had worn away, when she went to her and, putting one arm around her waist, whispered. “Come, now, dear, just one little song; only one to please me.” At first Alice thought to refuse, but her pride came to the rescue, and the feeling that she would show her friend that she was LL- ‘1! : ." .‘ """""- n a 00 O ‘ I . I o v” 0 c o .0. ’ to o a... o 000. 00.0 o 0%... .-.uco.0ooo.. 50 a . 0.0“ ooooo......uo’.o~co.uo ”00...... \M .- NINA... 8n n . (I... ‘ o. 000-... cocooo\~o.HOo’hoooo Coco‘s '0 o. 0 00.000 0 ”’0 o o a 000.00 000.00.... ‘0‘. soft... moovoo’ooo too... 0.....uooo 00 O. (0.00. Duty-anon 00. . O O .. c . O -0 0 O I O ' 0 0 0 O I I u . . ....R.....,.......... ..v........u... .....v_.... u.....w..“..x.u... ...v..........u .......... .. .m.... u.....w.........s.r.......... .. 5.... .. .. 3...: .. .. . .... u. . . 0 I ’0. y. » oo- o o o». n I... o D' no- »| 005‘... loofah... porouuoloono-ouoooooro‘ In. no. .9. four... '1 van. u..-" _ not a timid country girl gave her the needed courage, and she arose and stepped across the room to the grand piano that stood in one corner. Her cheeks were flushed, and a defiant curl was on her lips, and then without a moment‘s hesitation she seated herself and sang "The Last Rose of Summer.” She had sung it many, many times be- fore. and every trill andexquisite quiv- er of its pathos was as familiar to her as the music of the brook where she had played in childhood. She sang as she never had before, and to an au- dience that listened entranced. When . the last sweet note had passed her red l lips, she arose quickly and returned to [ her seat. Two little tears stole out of l Mrs. Nason’s eyes, to he quickly brush- ; ed away with a priceless bit of lace. ‘ Sweet Alice. the motherless little coun- . try girl. had from that moment enter- ‘ ed the heart of Mrs. Nason. When the : applause had subsided, it was Frank 3 that next pleaded. "Won't you sing one for me now, Miss Page?" he asked. “I bought the song I wanted today.” And, going to the piano, he unrolled and spread upon the music rackâ€"“Ben Bolt!” “But I only consented to sing once for Blanch,” Alice replied, “and there are others here who I am sure can do much better.” I 0.. .0 ~. :Q.‘-..._' “Come. please.” be ‘ “just this one for me." Alice touched the keys. in Sandgate, with its lamp on the piano and open fire burning brightly I as it had one year ago, went two of . that company in thought, and maybe others there, whose youth had been. among country scenes, were carried? back to them by the singer’s voice and ' saw a byway schoolhouse “and a shad- 7 ed nook by a running brook” in fancy, or perhaps a little white stone in some grass grown corner, where, “obscure and alone,” lay a boyhood’s sweet- heart! All the pathos of our lost youth trilled in the voice of Alice Page as she sang that old, old song. Not one in that little audience but was enthralled by the Winsome witchery of her voice and for the moment was young again in thought and feeling. When the guests had departed Mrs. Nason turned to flee and. taking her face in her hands, exclaimed. “I want to kiss the CHARLES CLARK MUNN ” he said coaxingly. 'me." And once more came Blanch ...n)'.... cided to spend' with her brother, and when she came to bid adieu to her hostess that much dreaded haughty mother had resolved herself into a charming lady. “It is odd, Bertie," she said to her brother that evening when they were alone together, “how difierent people seem when one comes to know them. From one or two things which you have said and an admission that Frank made a year ago I felt I should be sure to hate his mother, and now I think she is perfectly lovely.” “So she is to those she likes," an- swered Albert. “You carried her heart by storm last evening as well as the rest of the company. I never heard ion sing so well.” “I'a‘ifi ' glaa T6161“ bredi 'd$'n,‘ah3 - way.” she replied, “for when I touched the piano my heart seemed In my mouth.” For an hour they discussed the Na- sons, while Albert noticed his sister avoided any mention of Frank, and then he said: “Well, sis, which of the places we have looked at do you think I best engage, and when will you be ready to move?” - a g ‘ AA - Aliceâ€"nursed her lips and looked at the shipwreck scene near her as if it contained a revelation. '"wwâ€"â€"__ _. “I am not so sure,” she answered finally, “that we should make the change at present. It I were certain your beautiful wait of the sea would “I want to kiss the lips that have brought tears to my eyes.” adhere to her filial resolution. it would be different. If you secure this legacy for her that you told me about and she donates it to those old people, asyou say she intends to, the next thing will be “You will not object to home, will you ?” he asked you might be lonesome, a not had a chance to talk you came to Boston I dec with you. I cap come one reason I came to Boston was to look at flats. Bert wants us to conn- here and keep house for himâ€"Aunt Susan and me.” “And are you going to do it? I hope so, for that would give me a chance to take you to the mentors.” ‘ -rr__.L!! tun-v J vâ€" v- “No, the plgn is off for the present," she answered. “Not but that I would like to, but we think it is not best for For an hour they trundled along through the snow clad country, chat- ting commonplaces, and then Alice said. “Did you meet the island girl last summer that you told me Bert had fallen in love with? v... v the old ladyâ€"on board the Gypsy and introduced them. They remained only long enough to look the yacht over. I left that day." “What did you think of this girl?" asked Alice hastily. “Tell me what she looks like.” “She has a beautiful figure and eyes like yours, which you know are what I admire, only they are not so full of mischief. They have a faraway look that makes you think her thoughts are a thousand miles away.” “How was she dressed?" “Oh, I haven’t the least idea,” was the answer. “She might have worn calico for all I could tell. The only thing I can remember is that her dress was tight fitting and very plain.” Alice smiled. “Those faraway eyes must have en- tranced you, your description is so lucid,” she replied sarcasticaily. “How long did Bert stay there after you came . away ?” . “Only a few days. I never asked I. him. I told him to keep and use the a Gypsy as long as he wanted. and then I cut stick for Blanch andâ€"Sandaate." ' He seemed to dwell upon the little ; outing, and Alice, noticing this, fought Z shy of the subject. -- _|‘ ‘C' ”-J v- .o-â€" -â€"â€"..' “Well, how do you like my haughty mother now,” he asked, “it that is a fair question ?” , -1--II.â€" oug'h‘twt‘?)~ be proud of \er: #Ydu cari- veyed a wrong implessiou nf her tn me the first time I met y.’ou "I am sorry it I did,” replied Frank. “I did not mean to. Mother fell in love with you the night you sang, and I knew she would. That is why I al- most begged you to sing.” When the hills of Sandgate were visible he said, “I have an hour before the returning train and just time enough to see you safely home.” Alice looked at him with surprise. “And that is your idea of my hospi- tality,” she exclaimed, “to let you go away like that? The morning train is the earliest one you can escape on, and if I am not good enough company for you this evening, you can go and call on Abby Miles.” V“-- What’E'éfirpx-isea and glad old lady Aunt Susan was when the two stepped off the train. V“ In--- “Don’t mind me,.Aunt Susan," Frank said with easy familiarity. “I am not a visitor, I am a big brother escorting a lone sister home.” How kindly that wrinkled face beamed on him behind her spectacles while he insisted that she stand by and let him unharncss and see to the horse as she directed. And how will- ”v-uv "u. ingly he carried baskets of wood in and started the parlor fire. “I did not know you could make yourself so useful,” Alice observed. When supper was over he asked her all manner of questions about her school, when she meant to open it again, how the old miller was, what had become of the boat, how the mill pond looked in winter, and had she been there fince the day she gathered lilies. “Alxt'ays back to that spot," she thought .4... â€"'vâ€"D When he asked her to sing “The Last Rose of Summer” she exclaimed with a pretty pout: “I do not want to sing that. It reminds me how scared I was when I sang it last.” “But you brought tears into most of our eyes that night.” “Do you want to weep again?” she asked archly, looking up at him and smiling. “It you say you do, I will sing it.” I A “No,” he answered, and the! ing a moment added: “I do that way tonight. I may wl time comes tomorrow." III IV vvu- v-v Her eyes fell, and rising quickly, like a scared bird anxious to escape, turned away. LL11 11‘.“ u u “I! . But a strong hand clasped one of hers, and then she heard him say: “Am I to go away tomorrow happy or mis- erable? You know what I came up here to ask. You know what I have worked and studied and waited for all the long year since first I saw you and for whom I have tried to become a useful man in the world instead of an idler. It was to win you and to ask this that I came here today.” Then she felt an arm clasp her waist and a voice that trembled a little say: “Answer me, sweet Alice, is it yes or “Answer me. '9, DO! And then he felt her supple form yield a trifle, and as he gathered her close in his arms her proud head touched his shoulder. CHAPTER XLI. HE winter had passed and March returned when one _,_ morning Albert received a ":“o. bulky envelope bearing the Stockholm postmark and containing numerous legal papers and a lengthy letter. He did not notice Frank when he came in or even hear his greeting. and well might Albert be keenly 'ab- sorbed in those documents. for they made him the emissary privileged to lay at the feet of the girl he lovedâ€"a fortune! No more need she devote herself to her foster parents. no more need Uncle Terry putter over lobster traps in rain or shine, or good. patient Aunt Lissy bake. out. ‘1‘... Here was more than they could spend in all the years that were left them. and what a charming privilege it would be to him to place in her loving hand the means to make glad and bless those kindly people who had cared for her as their own, and what a sweet door of hope it opened for him! Then, for the first time, he noticed Frank watching him with smiling in- terest. “Well,” remarked that cheerful young man, “I’m glad to see you emerge from your trance and return to earth again. I’ve said good morning twice and watched you for halt an hour and you “I do not feel may when train I congratulate you, my dear boy, an you can have the Gypsy when you are ready.” Then he added shyly. “May- be it can be arranged so there can he ‘ four in the party.” ll‘he next morning Albert, the legal evidence of Telly's heritage and with buoyant heart. left {or South- port. Late in the afternoon the little boat hearing him as sole passenger halted at the head {if the island, and he saw the smiling face and mumed form of Uncle Terry standing on the wharf alone. . .- “An-A ,’ n'n‘n‘m. “Bless yer heart, 3? ed 1311019 Terry, gm bert’s hands in his, “ is good fer sore eyes “And how are Aunt 1y?” responded Albert. glowing face of the n! “Oh. they’re purty mluuuu , a... they’ll be powerful glad to see ye, too. ‘ It’s been a long time smce ye left us. detail of his last parting from Telly, framed as she was in a background of scarlet and brown foliage! He could see her as he last saw her, standing with bowed head and tear wet face. and feel a tinge of the keen pain that He could almost hear the sad rustle of the autumn winds in the dry leave! ing. them! But the way was long and Uncle Terry’s old horse slow, and the road in the hollows a quagmire or half frozen mud. Gone were all the leaves white pall of snow. A half gale was blowing over the island, and when they halted in front of Uncle Terry’s home nil-.‘l uuucu Lu Jul-V”- .. the booming of the giant billows filled the night air, and by the gleam of the lighthouse rays Albert could see the spray tossed high over the point rocks. “Go right in,” said Uncle Terry, “an’ don’t stop ter knock; ye'll find the wimmin folks right glad ter see ye. an’ I’ll take keer 0’ the boss.” With Telly it had been a long, dreary Winter. Her only consolation had been the few letters from the only man who had ever uttered a word of love to her, and how eagerly they had been read again and again. ‘â€" - I ‘0 7_‘ l\uu tau“--- v.--“ , v At times, when the cold desolation of winter was at its worst, only maidenly reserve had kept her from writing him that her loneliness and heart hunger were more than she could bear. She had no inkling of his coming. and when Uncle Terry bade him enter the house she was alone in the sitting room laying the table, while Aunt Lissy was in the kitchen cooking sup- per. She heard the click of the front door latch and, stepping into the little hall as the door slowly opened, she met the man who for five long months had never been absent from her thoughts. A glad cry escaped her, and thenâ€" When Aunt Lissy came in and greeted Albert, it she noticed Telly’s red face and neck no one was the And now only a wiser. When Uncle Terry came in, and after Telly, as usual, had brought his house coat and slippers, what a happy little party was seated at the table. What if the ocean surges thundered so near and at times tossed their angry tears against the windows! Inside were light, and warmth, and love, and trust. and all that is holiest in human emotions. ‘ After supper Uncle Terry and Albert smoked and talked, and when the evening was two-thirds past, Albert said: “Now, my good friends, I have a little surprise in store for you.” Drawing from an inside pocket a bulky em elope, and crossing the room to where Telly sat he handed it to her with the remark: “I have the honor and exquisite pleasure of presenting to you, Miss Etelka Peterson, sole surviving heiress and descendant of one Eric Peterson of Stockholm, your paternal grandfa- ther. these legal documents certifying to your inheritance of about 51350.0(”, besides various pieces of real estate as yet unappraised.” The effect of this announcement upon the three listeners was not exactly what Albert had anticipated. They seemed dazed, and Telly, holding the big envelope gingerly. as if it might bite her, stared at Albert. Aunt Lissy was the first to speak, and “Good Lord a-massy!" came from her in an awed 'whisper. “Tfiank God. little girlie. you’ve got yor dues at last!” was Uncle Terry’s [Cc Jen. are Aunt Llssy and Tel- d Albert. smiling into the of the old man. ‘re purty middlln’, an’ werful glad to see ye, too. mg time since ye left us.” ly came to Albert every last parting from Telly, e was in a background of He could [. Air. III‘SC' VVVVVVVV grasping both of Al- was in the _!'°°m' few miles separated r. Page,” exclaim- Albert. bearinx Telly’s heritage t left for Southâ€" prnoon the little “II-Fion’t take It, tamer; claimed. “Not one penn, all yours, and I’ll never leav long as you five!” Then she began to sob. “lat ain’t no cause fer wo that yit, girlie,” h wâ€"‘v‘_ And then, rising, he naaeu, best go to bed now, Mr. Page, bein’ a lawyer, can ’splaln “I am a trifle puzzled and 1 little disappointed, Telly, at the way you feel about this inheritance. It it rightfully yours and will enable you to do much for the future comfort of thou who are devoted to you. I had rnnAd-â€" "51361? 'wou'ld relieve your tea- and said: hofied'disa'it'iou'ia reiie ing of obligation a little.” 7 J- Lhn‘v‘. ed quickly, worth to father the c accustomed to from me.” ‘- mam (m “Lbuwtvuâ€"vâ€" _ _ “But won't this money do more tor him than you can, Telly? Is there any need of his remaining he.e to putter over lobster traps and drive a wagon, rain or shine? He is getting too old for that, anyway. Why not build a home for them in Boston, or, better still, share ours there?” A flush came over Telly’s face. “We haven’t a home there yet," she answered, turning her face away. “But we will have, darling, and as soon as you consent I shall begin to make it ready. I want you, darling, and I want a home. Life to me with you buried here is only desolation, and how much so to you the past five months can only tell. I know how you feel toward these good people, and your care for them shall be my care." Telly hid her face behind her hands. and as she yielded a little to his clasp he whispered: “Do not say ‘no' again, Telly! Do not rob yourself and me o! ; love and home and happiness any longer! Make what plans for them you wish. Do as you will with your heritage. All I plead for is you.” A! be paused, holding her close while he waited for her answer, only listening I love heard it whispered. And outside the billows that year! before tossed her ashore and had woven their monotone of sadness into her life still tolled their requiem, but she heard them not. She had entered the enchanted castle of illusions. HEN June had again clad Sandgate‘s hills and village with green and spangled it! mpadows with daisies there occurred two events of sacred import to four young people. The first was a wedding in the vil- lage church where the sweet voice of Alice Page had oft been heard and where now as a bride she walked tim- idly to the altar. Her pupils, aided by their parentl. had turned the church into a bower of green, brightened by every flower that grew in field or garden. Even the old mill pond contributed its share, and the altar was white with lilies. A]- most every resident ot the town wu present, and the aged miller sat in on. corner and watched with wistful eyefl. The Nason family, with Aunt Susan and Albert, shared the front pew. Two weeks later occurred the other event. when the Gypsy steamed into the Cape harbor and a select party became the guests of honor at Unclo Terry’s home. Long tables, decked with flowers and loaded with the best Aunt Lissy could prepare, stood under the trees in "out. The little porch was a bower of terms and clusters of red bunch berries. and every man. wcmzm .md child that dwelt on tho i and was there. Then, attnr Albert and Telly had halted in the for“ covered porch to utter the simple but sacred words that bound them for life. the gladsomo party gathered and made merry at the tables. The sun was low tn the west er. Telly kissed the tear wet faces of Uncle Terry and Aunt Lissy and the Gypsy sailed away. l-‘ar to seaward the purple line of coming night was slowly creeping in, and side by Side on the little knoll where stood a low white headstone those two sat and watched her pass out of their liven. When only the wide ocean was vlslbh and the line of shadow lmd crept up to the wave washed rut-ks beneath them, Uncle Terry arose. “We’d best go in, Lissy." he said. And she saw that she must lead 111-. for he was blinded with tears. g m tun. The Cal-«Ill Giant. The Cardlfl giant. the famous stone man hoax of years ago. was 10 feet 21/3 inches in length had 1 none 0 inches long. a mouth 4 inches wide and a foot 15% inches from toe to heel. Dot Exes-clue". . There are people ln London who can quite respectable livlngs solely by ex. ercising dogs. and some of those who so live are ladies. In every suburb and ln-every London park these excreta-n of dogs may be seen each day. and on. gentleman alone pays 15 shun-p . week for the walking out of his v“ able bulldog. CHAPTER XLII. ID “I.“ -__ a it, father!" she ex- one penny of it! It's ,’11 never leave you .0 2" Then she began to money do more I Telly? Is there any â€"â€"'â€" :34- c-nllflat the wh- -o k)“ t ‘ “ .. hdsubwqucm Inn 2‘ \ “advertisement: mm :. thalamu- Wma {one .‘~\\ on to the urn « Alladvcnisc at .t ,1 “3““ be bluu THE JOB : : DEPARTI‘IENT Drs. lamieson U slmrt distance can ‘ Lawton Street. Luwer 0600 hours from 12 tn :3 .. Garafran and “OM!” FFICE AND RESIDF m of_hill. ()flif‘e‘luv‘llr~â€"- HYSICIAN AND SEE 600 in the New Hunter bonus to w u. m.. 2m 4: 9. II. Spatial attention gis of women 3nd children. ponies Presbvwritn Church VLC. Pickering, 0. m hcilities smre. Lower of monev ‘0 proper“- FFICE AND nest l. G. Hutton. ‘0 G. Luck,“ Tow u . Fl’ICEâ€"FIRST,P( ARRISTER Auctioneer hr 1 8-198 promptly ptten mull-nee or write 1n JOTAR Borrow. AND PROPRI ARR] S ARBISTER v“-- v fionoorâ€"for the CG romp“? tmuded '"' u u. Implemem “'3 .3 mud, or u the Cl 0500 M?" Arthur Gun. Ql’ UGH Nov. 9. G. Lefroy M Wifdl Difl’t Dental Dire. “X IR‘YII‘ u wuss-um FER. SOLI I. P. Telft A. H. lac N ANDSU lull Sent It ecu-plane“ all NEW T (utmq PUBLH Telephone r Gordon wn. Durl MACK} Id BI S. SOLE :fiflengn SOLI .‘l twill (ft-Inc Ins! ll