NEAR p and ut Hig r Minâ€" iTts ort EN THE rt he of Tt ECCE "Is she your mother," he asked, lookâ€" ing at Moa. "No, not my mother, though she beâ€" haves like one." "Ah,. And you are sure you have no Seotch blood. "My father was Scotch." He drew forth her card, and looked at it, slowly reading out, "Miss M. J. Craig." M"Wh. t does the M and the J stand "Mont Joscelyn." ho "You have a nice, tidy place; a bit of garden is pleasant. It‘s better, a good deal, than where I am. May be it costs more. I pay a guinea a week for a bedâ€" room and share of a sitting room." "We J)ny very little more for two rooms all to ourselves," said Mme. Deâ€" brisay. * m 3 ut ce w i 1 o es n We it : "I wanted to come," he said wiping his brow with a red cotton pocketâ€"handâ€" kerchief. "First, I wanted to pay ye back your siller"â€"he extracted a _ small bag purse from his trousers pocket, and took out sixpence; "and there it is," layâ€" ing it on the table. "Next, I wanted to ask vou: & fow questions, if you don‘t mind." "Certainly not." He did not reply immediately, but looked inquisitively and sharply round the room. o T [ _ His exceedingiy Scotch accent _ must bi@‘M ce Eu* * x â€" i "Very pleased to received you, sir," said Mme. Debrisay, bluntly. "But you should not have taken the trouble," added Mona, compassionately. "I wanted to come," he said wiping He had rather a low, wide head, and a kind of reluctant smile. "You‘ll excuse me," he said, falling on to a chair, rather than taking a seat, "but I am varra frail. It‘s a long way from the station here. I told you, haven‘s." missee. would not forget ye, and I "Show him in at once, Jane," said Mme. Debrisay, graciously, and the hero of Mona‘s adventure came in slowly, hayâ€" ing left his hat in the ball. Purity Means Health CHAPTER IX. In a few minutes the severe Jane enâ€" tered and told them there was "a genâ€" tleman"â€"she hesitated before pronouncâ€" ing the termâ€""wanting to see _ Miss Craig." ‘So she is, I am glad _ Squallicini thought she had been well taught. _ I have heard of him. He gets his guinea m lesson. I dare say I can do just as well, and I thought my fortune _ made when I first got sevenâ€"andâ€"six. _ Why, Mona, there‘s a little man trying to open the gateâ€"an old man, with a stick and an umbrella. It must be your milâ€" lionaire." Let us hope they have about their own. I do trust you are not very unhappy. Bertie said he met you, and that you were looking well, and seemed quite bright. Are you still living with that nice, pleasant Mrs. Debrisay? Pray give her my kind regards. I am sure {uied to try her patiene. Tell her I had sorae singing lessons when were were in Milan, and Signor Sqaulliciniâ€"a great man, I assure youâ€"said I had been very well taught. "We are getting tited of movâ€" ing â€" about, and _ intend _ returning in August to Seotlard. Finistoun _ has a deer forest in the Western Highlands. We shall be there almost all the autumn. If I can at all manage it, I will come and see you as I pass through London; and you must come and stay with me. I am aure {ou will like Finistoun: he is not exactly handsome, but distingue, and really very clever. My father thinks very highly of him, and he is a sound Conâ€" aervative. The dear mother is flourishing and looks forward to presenting Gerâ€" aldine next season. It is lonely, not having a daughter ‘out.‘ Goodâ€"bye, dearâ€" est Mona. You will forgive my neglect and grant I had a good excuse. Ever vour attached. "Evelyn Finistoun." "I am not so sure about that," _ said Mona, smiling, as she put the letter, which she had read aloud, back into its envelope. "But I am most grateful . to her for writing at all. She is really a nice, dear thing." "Thew "CSALADA" | Won at Last CEYLON GREEN TEA in place of the adulterated teas of vapan. Lead packets only. 40c, 50c and 60c per Ib. At all Grocers. 7 HIGMHEST AWARD ST. LOUIS, 1904 Where did your father Hve!" not verra â€" Christian like That why you should use I "Roast beef, did ryon say*" asked Mr. Craig, anxiously; "I canna digest boiled! But you‘re verra good, and I shall se hapy to join you, for the pleeshure of your society! As I told you, I am verra frail. I worked hard a‘ my youth under a fine man, Mr. Kenneth Maceachern, of Maceachern & Leslie‘s, the mtt jute manufacturers.© He retired, he just missed the occupation;, and went off like a puff of wind. I kept it on, and saved “Perha‘)s,' said Madame Debrisay, inâ€" sinuatingly. . "Perhaps your uncle would stay and share our modest midday reâ€" ast. We have but a little cold roast Eeef, a salad, and ‘omelette aux fines herbes,‘ but at least it will avert the pangs of hunger." "Thank you, uncle," said Mona, laughâ€" Ing. "We are both proud of your verâ€" "Remember my dear Madame Debrisay pays bdv far the larger half." "And what is she to you*" Mona explained. "I think," said Uncle Sandy, yith grave, deliberate approbation, "that you are just a pair of verra honest, respectâ€" able women." "Reduced, ye ca‘ it, ‘he said. "It‘s no ‘reducing‘ for an honest. lassie to earn her own bread, which is mair honorable than the honors of the peerage! So you live here, my dearie! Ah, there‘s a good drap of Craig bluid in yer veins, or you would not have set up for yourself, {ike a wise lassic. If ye can keep a roof like this over your head, ye canna be doing so bad." "Anyway, you‘ve had a‘ wiseâ€"like upâ€" bringing. You are not ashamed of your uncle Sandy, though he is a plain body?" "Ashamed! No, indeed." "Now"â€"he called it "noo"â€""tell me how ye come to be here with this leddy. I thought the Honorable Mrs. Newâ€" burgh"â€"with somewhat sarcastic stress on "the Honorable"â€""was to leave you a fortin‘." "Alas! my dear sir, my dear young friend‘s story has been a real tragedy," began Mme. Debrisay, who procecded, with suitable modulations of voice, to "recite" the tale of Mrs. Newburgh‘s losses, and Mona‘s consequent povertyâ€" of the necessity of her laboring in order to live, and being reduced to her present position. _ _ 2 uh § _ Unele Sandy listened with profound at tention. Mona took it, and read the short sharp statement of Mrs. Newburgh‘s re quirements, which was addressed to "Mr Alexander Craig." "His name was John; but I know litâ€" tle about him. I remember faintly that he was kind and loving." "Well, I knew him. Knew him from his babyhood. My name is Craigâ€"Alexâ€" ander Craig, and I am your father‘s eldâ€" est brother." "Indeed," cried Mona, touched nay, even, pleased, to meet any one of her father‘s blood. "Then you are my uncle, my own uncle." "I am that," re returned earnestly. "But my dear sir," ejaculated _ Mme. Debrisayâ€""forgive the caution of _ an old woman of the worldâ€"can you supâ€" ply some proof that you are this dear child‘s nearest relative?" "You are right to be cautious, mem. I have a letter from my nicce‘s grandâ€" mother, written near fifteen years ago, offering to take her and _ provide for _ her, if her _ father‘s _ people would undertake never to come nigh her or interfere with her. I was a bachelor, and a busy man. I never approved of my brother‘s marriage. He took a wife from a class that despised his own, so I just let the poor wean go. I loved your father," he continued, looking at Mona, ‘almost like a son. You have a look of him, and a bonnie reed heid like his. Your mother was a pretty, darkâ€"haired lassie; but I lost him when he married. She was too fine for me, and I lived away from them. Here‘s your grandâ€" mother‘s letter." He took out a large pocketâ€"book, from the recesses of which he drew a letter, and, handing it to Mona, observed: "It‘s not over ccevil. She is jist ane of those aristocrats that think a‘ the world‘s dirt but themselves;" "It is indeed poor grannic‘s writing," she said, passing it to Mme. Debrisay. "I am glad to find you, uncle," and she gave her hand to her newâ€"found relative. ‘Thank you!" he exclaimed, holding it a minute. ""It was just the guiding of Proxidence that. brought you to yon fearsome street to help me. When I looked in your face I felt you were nae that strange. But whar‘s your grandâ€" mither ?" "Mrs. Newburgh was a true Christian and a real lady," put in Mme. Debrisay, emphatically. is is y y ‘f ‘They dinna always hang togither," returned their new acquaintance. _ _ "In Glasgow." "Ah, and now what was your mothâ€" er‘s name?" "Newburgh." "Ah. Just so. Your father‘s name was John Craig, and he was a clerk in the Western Bank of Scotland ?" "In her grave," said Mona, cadly. "She died nuddenliy--â€"in my arms." "I hope she was weel prepared. And when was she called?t" "She died last November," "Ah, aweel! she‘ll have found out by this time that the poor and ]owly of this warld are the elect of the next.‘ "She was very, very good to me," said Mona. "Never mind. He has enough to move about with, and pay doctors; and you might as well have it aiter him, poor felâ€" low. I do not think he is long for this world." "It will not be for long," said Mme, Debrisay, soothingly. "He will be goâ€" ing black to his place in the west of Scotland as soon as he is cured." "His place," cried Mona, laughing. "His eottage and farm, you mean." "Well," returned Mme. Debrisay, ‘"there is no use arguing about what neither one of us can be sure of. I have my ideas pretty strong, and I am sure you are not girl to turn your back upon a relation cause he is poor." "I should hope not indeed!" cried Moâ€" na. "I am quite willing to do my best for the poor old man; but he will worry us if he is anywhere near." _ all." "But â€" how can you _ fancy that he is rich"? He is evidentli exâ€" tremel{ careful of money, and he did not let fall one word by which one could be authorized to consider him rich. He may have saved enough to live on, and pay the doctor‘s bill, but that will be about . tiu» ht ie tainh o * O "Poor creature. I did feel for him, and I think he is naturally a very superior man. But, Mona, my child, it‘s for your sake 1 spoke. _ Now Providence has thrown him in your way, and I don‘t want you to lose your hold on him. Keep him by you, dear, and he will leave you all his money. No one can provide much for old age by teaching, and you must think of the future. ma belle." Toh "By no means, my dear sir!" cried Mme. Debrisay. "It is a shorter and a pleasanter drive. I presume you are consulting the famous Igr Swaithem?" "That‘s the man. He is awfu‘ costly." "What matter! so long as you can reâ€" gain your precious health? I think you would find this neighborhood more salubrious, and in every way preferable." "It may be. I will think of it." "Will you not take the armâ€"chair, uncle?" said Mona; "that is such an unâ€" comfortable one." 4 )j "Thank ye; it‘s well thought on." With various groans and twitches, Uncle Sandy transferred himself to the seat recommended. "Ye see," he explained, "I have been sair afflicted with a weakâ€" ness in the spine; it‘s a sore hindrance. I have been nigh a month in London, and I‘ve not heard one of the famous preachers yet. I have not had many opportunities, and I am weel aware of my own defeecencies; but if it was not for my puir frail body, I could improve myself rarely in this great â€" cawpital. There‘s lectures, and concerts, and serâ€" mons, and the like." 'vligl:;v“i\l;nne-.m])-e-i)rii;ï¬yr â€"slipped quietly out of the roomâ€"to make some addition to dinner, Mona did not doubt. _____ "Hoot! toot! I am stronger since lateâ€" ly, and money is not so plentiful as to let me hire cabs everywhere I go. Naw, naw. I‘ll just walk to the station. 1 have my ticket to Gower street, and I will get on fine from that for tippence. Goodâ€"bye, my lassie. I‘ll no forget how ye helped your uncle. CGoodâ€"bye to you, mem. May be you‘ll help me to find & respectable lodging. 1 can‘t come again till the day after toâ€"morrow, for I have to see the doctor; but if it is anyway fine, I‘ll not fail you." k "What an extraordinary encounter!" cried Mona, throwing herself into the corner of a sofa, and laughing unreâ€" strainedly. "I imagine Uncle gandy is strainedly. "I imagine Uncle Sandy is a character, and I really am sorry for his illâ€"health and loneliness; but I am afraid he will be rather a bore if he settles near us. He seems to have fascinated you, dear Deb." s i# 2 ! s newep a o qoes ue c io "Tell me," said _ Uncle Sandyâ€"the hoarse whisper in which he usually spoke intensifiedâ€""tell me, what does she make you pay her for living here?" "She does not charge me anything. I pay my share of our food and fireâ€"that is all." "Ah! and she is no of your blood?" "No; I came to know her seven or eight years ago, as I told you." "It is just wonderful," he ejaculated, and sat silent for some time, with a curiâ€" ous, halfâ€"satisfied, halfâ€"mocking . smile in his face. ; k "But I hope you will get stronger, uncle; then you will be able to enjoy this wonderful town," said Mona, kindly, touched by the poor man‘s desire to go to school again in his old age. ty _ Then the prim figure of Jane appearâ€" ed, and she proceeded to lay the eloth. The dinner was very successful, Uncle Sandy was exceedingly communicative as to what he might and might not eat. At first he said he would take nothing but cold water to drink; then he fancied there was a slight tasteâ€"he could not exactly define whatâ€"in the water, and when he perceived this, he had always been warned to qualify the water with a drop of spirits. He supposed they hadn‘t any whiskey? No; well he would do with a trifle of brandy. "The next time I come to see ye," he said, with an air of great generosity, "I‘ll bring you a bot{le of real good stuffâ€"it‘s far wholeâ€" somer than brandy," He seemed to enjoy his repast, and afterwards made many inquiries into Mme. Debrisay‘s history. He was also profoundly interested in the prices of all articles of consumption in Lordon. Then, noticing the piano, he begged his niece to sing him a sonÂ¥. She complied. _ Before she was half through it he stopped her by observing that he had an uncommon ear for music, but that it must be Scotch music. _ So Mona changed her tune to "Oh! Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast," which gave him great delight. He nodded his head and tapped the carpet with his stick in time to the music, and declared with feeble energy, that there were no songs like Scotch songsâ€"no intelligence comâ€" pared to that of Scotsmenâ€"no church system like that of Scotland. Then he looked at his watch, and said he was sorry, but he must leave them; that it was the only cheerful afternoon he had spent since he came to London, and exâ€" pressed his resolution to look for lodgâ€" ings in their neighborhood. "Pray, let me get you a cab," said Mona. "You will be so very tired walkâ€" Mona went out to open the garden gate for him, and watched him hobbling down the road for a moment or two, and then returned to Mme. Debrisay. "Pray, let me get you a cab, Said Mona, _ "You will be so very tired walkâ€" ing all the way to the station a second time." a bit, and my old master remembered me in his will, so, as I found my health failâ€" ing, and new men coming into the firm, I thought I would rest and t:{v; to reâ€" cover. I took a cottageand a bit farm awa‘ in the west, but I got rheumatics, and grew worse, so I cam‘ up to try a great London doctor, and was recomâ€" mended to yon place in Camden Town. The son of one of our clerks lodges there; but he is out a‘ day ,and I suspect a‘ the night too. I am just wearyin‘ o‘t; but I am not half cured yet. I wonder if this place is much further from Harley street ?" No mother would give her little one poison if she knew it, and yet all the soâ€"called soothing syrups and _ many of the liquid medicines given children contain poisonous opiates, and an overâ€" dose will kill. When a motker uses Baby‘s Own Tablets she has the guaranâ€" tee of a government analyst that this medicine does not contain one particle of opiate or narcotic that it cannot posâ€" sibly do harm. This assurance is worth much to the mother who cares for the safcty of her little ones. Mrs. Charies McLaughlin, DeBert station, N. 8., say=: "I have used Baby‘s Own Tablets for coâ€" lic, stomach troubles and other ailments of childhood and find them so valuable that I would not be without them in the house." _ Sold by medicine dealers or by mai‘ at 25 cents a box from The Dr. gi&hm’ Medicine Company, Brockville, n Mirandaâ€"I accepted Mr. Mashleigh last | on ‘ uow night and he is going to get the engageâ€" Mfl ment ring. toâ€"day. dit yelle Muriel â€"Oh he already has it. I returnâ€" ‘ companic ed to him this morning the one he gave and ram. The cow that in return for $5 more feed can give 2,000 to 6,000 pounds milk is evidently a money maker. Holsteinâ€"Friesian cow does this. The cow that is to make mopney must make milk in quantitied above %\0 averâ€" age. Ske must be a large eater, a good digester, a perfect assimilator of diâ€" gested food, and a ready transformer of the food into fine milk. The farmer should not look for a "small eating" cow, for the small eater must be a small milker, and a little extra butterâ€" fat in her milk will not make up finanâ€" cially for the deficiency in quantity. The manufacturer does not attempt to make a ton of steel out of materials that contain only a possible half ton. The milk producer cannot force a ton of milk out of a cow whose food in a given time contains only half a ton of milk. P "Do not fancy I am grumbling. I have some very bright days to look back upon"â€"a quick deep sighâ€""and the preâ€" sent is far from being unhappy. Only, the Mona Joscelyn of this time last year has disappeared forever, and Mona Craig, a more usetul and sensible young women, has replaced her." C "If I could see you rich and free, and in your proper place, I would die happy; and who knows I may yet see you get the better of those coldâ€"hearted Everâ€" ards." "They are not coldâ€"hearted. They had a right to be angry, and I have no fealing of resentment against them, though they might have asked what had become of A few more days brought them to A\;ï¬ust. During these days Uncle Sandy made no sign. Indeed, both Mme. Debriâ€" say and Mona were too much occupied w&th lessons, some of which were crowdâ€" ed together to allow of pupils leaving town, and with their own affairs generâ€" aly, to think much about him. It is not economy to select for milkâ€" ers cows that are "light feeders." The light feeder may cost her owner $4 or $5 less per year than the "heavy feeder" would cost him, but she will give him only 3.000 pounds of milk a year, while the large feeder will give him 5.000 or 7000 or 9,000 pounds of milk. "If that is not coldness, I do not know what it." "Ah, my dear, don‘t you be downcast â€"times will mend." Both partners were looking forward to the delights of rest well earned. Mona was quietly but profoundly thankful that she had not been obliged to earn her bread among indifferent strangersâ€" that she had been supported by the warm sympathy of a true friend. MHolsteinâ€"Friesian cows are moneyâ€" makers because they are milkâ€"makers. No other breed of dairy cows can furâ€" nish so high a percentage of large yieldâ€" ers as the Holsteinâ€"Fricsian breed furâ€" nishes. In this breed the large milkers are many, the small milkers are few. In other breeds the large milkers are few, and the small milkers are many. claimed. "You want to turn me into a legacy hunter! I assure you I will be kind and attention to my poor father‘s brother, whether he has a cottage or a castle. He will probablf' not stay here long, and we may as well make him hapâ€" py. He must have had a dull life. It must be very hard to feel life slipping away before you have known enjoyâ€" ment." This is a business point that should attract the attention of business dairyâ€" men. The small milker costs her owner about as much for "keep" as the large milker costs her owner. _ The large yielder, thercfore, makes milk at a lower cost than the small yielder. Both are equal at the feed rack, but the large yielder at the milk pail is worth two or three small yielders. The Holsteinâ€"Friesian is preâ€"eminently a large yielder. She has been made a great milker by Hollanders, and in turn the Hollanders have been made prosperous by her. The world over she is recognized as the greatest dairy cow, greatest for yield of milk, greatest for fine quality of milk, greatest for fine butter production, greatest for prepoâ€" tency, greatest for ability to thrive under all sorts of conditions, greatest for prolifigacy, greatest for longevity and general usefulness. 6 Farmers, who are producing milk for cheese and butter factories, for conâ€" densaries, or for the liquid markets, need to start aright, They nécd cows of vigorous constitution, cows that can consume large quantities of feed and convert it into large quantities of fine milk, and cows that milk long, breed perfectly, and pgoduce calves that the vigorous and easily reared. Such cows are â€" morey makers. _ The Holsteinâ€" Friesians are such cows. Mona laughed more heartily. "You vugd, grasping Deb!" she exâ€" A DANGER TO CHILDHOOD. Same Ring, New Engagement. (To be coptinued.) ONTARIO ARCHIVES ' TORONTO in of flicted a severe injury, for the bap» O! Action that makes culcide so valuâ€" dit yelled and dropped his gun. His Able, especially as it does not injure companion fired one shot at random fabries or the ordinary furnishings, lto necessary to deliberately plunge a knife into a man‘s body, so he slashâ€" . ed at the thug‘s revolver arm with| &n upward cut and evidently inâ€"| For $5 one can get a very excelâ€" lent weapon in polished wo»x!, with a twoâ€"foot d‘rk. For $10 one can see curo a longer blade, with an auâ€" tomatic niit, or guard, which unâ€" folds as sgoon as the blade is drawn from the cane. The hilt is a very valuable adjunct, as it prevents the hand from slipping upon the blade in a scrimmage. The fasnion in holdâ€"ups has chang» ed slightly since the thugse found out that many people were carrying sword canes. They learned it unâ€" expectedly in Buena Park, a fashâ€" fonable suburbh north of Chicago, in december. 6 } y to search him, made a tmdden lunge with his sword cane, which he had released without being observed. . ff he had tried to run the man through it would have been an easy task, but ho lacked the nerve Two of them undertook to relieve a young man of his valuables at the muzzle of a pair of revolvers. The man, as the second thug came near § THE LATEST MEANS OF DEFENCE i AGAINST HOLDâ€"UP MEN, 4+ t +000 PAAA N AO OORAAA 44 4AAA 444AAA 4444444 44444444444 Notice the canes carried by Chiâ€" ; bandits, and he carries a cane, they cago men after nightfall and you‘ll| make him drop the cane before they probably observe a metal ring or an| will approach him, hence many almost invisible button in the glick| citizens carry both the cane and the gsix or eight inches below the handle.! magazine revolver. This revolver is Press the button and give the cano|so compact and so easily carried a; sharp twist and you‘ll be surprised | that it is hy no means unusual for to find that the handle is éasily sepâ€"| women to carry them. arated from the body of the cane, wwâ€"@ 4@ _z anrd that a metal blade, sharp and GENIUS OF WESTINGHOUSE, ip‘o‘mted. is attached to the L:'mndle. For the eword cane has lately come 4 s into new favor with those who make Importance of His Inventions Recognized use of Chicago streets after dark. _ the World Over, These blades can be had in Toledo steel, and some of them are very handsome aifairs. A beautiful blade attached to an ivory handle is conâ€" cealed in a cane belonging to a theae trical manrager, who has carried it for fifteen years. It was made to order for him, and cost $45. Canes with good blades can be pure chased for aimost any price from $2.50 up. For $2.50 one can purâ€" chase a fairly good stick witn an eighteen inch dirk, the stick being made of unpolished binrch. . The entire city is terrorized by the exploits of thugs and bandi.s. Even theatreâ€"goers carry weapons to tne playhouse with them. The man who goes â€" unarmed â€" through Chicago etrneets at night, even in the hbheart of the business and theatrical disâ€" trict, is taking long chances. _ _ And of those who do not carry sword canes, it is a safe bet that nine out of every ten carry revolâ€" vers In their overcoat pockets. _ / It is a reoognized principle of bandit law that any vctims caught with revolvers must be beaten and {kicked unmercifully. ‘The bandits ao shis to discourage the carrying of concegled weayous. A# a precaution against attacks, experienced citiâ€" zons always carry their gune in their hands when passing whrough dark atroots. O}{~:* » anst .: 406 _ At the corner of State and Van Buren streots, a lfew nighits ago, a holdâ€"up occurred. In the heart of the city, about 11 oclock at pign,t a coustryman from ITowa â€" faced . a drawn revolver thrust uader Bis nose, and was complied to d sgorge bis watch and $40 in cash. Btreet cars and pedestrians were within easy reach of the thug, yet he perâ€" formed his feat unmolested. But ‘the use of aword canes(s, after all, the most striking feature of the gituation in Chicago. The length of the fblades varies, but the most popuâ€" lar weapon is one with a whort blado, not over two feet long,. ‘This can fe used as a dagger br dirk, and is valuable in coming to close quarâ€" ters with the thug. The long blades or raplers, are useleas if the thug once breaks inside the guard. _ _ _ I‘wenty minutes later the countryâ€" man, wiho had regained his nerve and bait foliowed the highwaymanr, sudâ€" denly pounced upon the bandit and felled nim with a blow. Then he helped himsel{ to his own watch and money, took tha thug‘s revolver from him, and forced him to gurrender his own watch. When the Iowa man reâ€" ported the matter to the police, they decided that he had a clear title to the spoils won from the highwayâ€" Another illustration of the _ boldâ€" nees of the thugs is found in the exâ€" perience of a young woman . {rom New York, who is staying at one of the most fashlonable hotels in the city. A few minutes before 6 o‘ciock, one evening last week, she enterd the hotel by the side entrance and passed into a lorg corricor leadinz to the main lobby. The cormdor was deoserted excep. for a young man. Suddenly he struck her in the Zace, forced her againgt the wall and alâ€" most strangled her, at the same time trying to wrench loose ther chatelaine bag and watch. She was unable to scream, and was fainting when a messenger boy| happened to enter the corridor and gave . the alarm. * bors 74. ENT The thug knocked the boy down and made his escape by| the s‘.de door. ‘This happened in the largest hotel in Chicago, in the heart of ‘the city. * MITE! Take half a dozen casual business men in Chicago and then take a poll, and it is a safe be tthat at least two out of the six can tell you thein experiences when they were held up by\ bandits. It is small _ wonder, then, that practically, every man who is obliged to be out late at night carries a revolver or a weaâ€" pon of some kind. 1 It is rather dangerous, however, to carry weapons. Not that the police will arrest you. ‘The | law about carrying concealed weapons in Chicago is a dead letter and is never enforced. ‘The danger comes from being caught by| banditg. ; > The most popular revolver in Chiâ€" cagoâ€"and you can hear all kings of arguments about revolvers at the Qluï¬ and hotolsâ€"is the magazine rovolver, operated like the Mauver rifl0. It carries nine dumheagd cartâ€" ridges, and yet it is so small that it can be convreniently carried in a coat pocket. ! is d 4 Nowadays, !U! a man is caught by being sufficient for application to an ordinary room, and at the end of that time the room may be entered and the windows and doors opened for ventilaâ€" tion without danger or particular dis coméfort. It is this harmlesseness and rapidity of action that makes culicide so valuâ€" cide," and is a mixrture of equal parts of carbolic acid crystals and camphor, made up in a solution, and evaporated by means of an alechol h:&ca Four ounces of this mixture is ient to exterminate all insects, such as house flies, mosquitoes, roaches, etc., in a room of 1,000 cubic feet capacity. ‘The soluâ€" tion may be put in an enamelled washâ€" basin and supported on a picec of stoveâ€" P comparative economy is a cardinal fem clally as regards house ï¬um'fltion. [ Professor Mims, of New Orleans, one of the experts engaged during the recent yellow fever scare, has discovered a new fumigant, for interior use, which, has received the approval of the United‘ States Marine Hospital service, The new agent has been named "culiâ€" Carbolic Acid and Camphor Used to Kill ‘ the Pests, With the advent of summer the exâ€" termination of mosquitoes will again be taken up, and since these insects are now known to be carriers of malaria and yellow fever, and perhaps other less serious ailments, their presence is no longer tolerated with t:: indifferâ€" ence that once existed. _ However, so many bright minds have been working on methods of extermination that the present season‘s campaign will be much more effective than in the past, espeâ€" clally as regards house fumigation George Westinghouse has a creative mind, There is no country in the world, says Success Magazine, where a train runs, or an engine works, or a dynamo turns, in which his name is sot honored and familiar. _ He has brought new mechanisms and new industries into beâ€" ing; he has contributed largely to the progress of modern methods of transâ€" portation and communication which have shaped to such an extent the relations between individuals and communities, between nation and nation. _ The post office, the telegraph, the railways and the stcamship unite the most distant reâ€" gions. Upon these modern life is wholly dependent in its social, industrial and commercial phases. Stephenson gave us the railway, Westinghouse made the modern complex railway system a posâ€" sibility by his inventions which control the movements of trains. Had he done no more than this his name would still stand among the great archives. _ George Westinghouse will be 60 years of age next October; he is built on a massive scale, tall and as strong as a blacksmith. He is alert, farâ€"sighted, quiet, sanguine and untiring, with a constitution strong as nickel steel. He is a most agreeable man to meet, and has a rare faculty for inspiring others with his own enthusiasm. * A remarkable fact in his carcer is the early age at which he became prominent. At the age of 22 George Westinghouse made his first great invention, the air brake. This was the source of his fame and fortune, and since that time his life has been so intimately associated with the history of engineering and of manuâ€" facture that it is impossible to think of many of the great advances of the past forty vears without thinking of him. Pr. Williams‘ Pink Pills will cure any case of bloodlessness just as u:.rez‘ as they cured Miss Allon. _ ‘The pale &ana®â€" mic needs only one thingâ€"new blood. Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills make new, rich blood with every dose, That is why they cure all common disceases like anaeâ€" mia, indigestion, neuralgia, palpiuiliun of the heart, head@ches and backaches, St. Vitus‘ dance, partial paralysis and the secret troubles that make the lives of thousands of women miserable. Dr, Williams‘ Pink Pills are sold by mediâ€" cine dealers or by mail at 50 cents a box or six boxes for $2.50, from The Dr. Williams‘ Medicine Company, Brockville, Ont. Can Obtain New Health Through the Use of Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills. Anaemia means bloodlessness, Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills actually make new, rich, red blood and thus cure anaemia, When the blood is poor the nerves are starved and irritable, Then comes hysâ€" teria, neuralgia, slecplessness and other nerve disorders. Headaches, backaches and sideaches wear out and depress the {ooor pale victim. Dr. Williams‘ Pink "ills soon bring ruddy health and lively vigor. _ They soothe the jangled nerves and give new strength to every organ. Miss Winnie Allen, Montreal, says: "I was so weak and run down that my, friends thought that T was going into consumption. 1 Was as pale as a corpse, bad no appotite and did not sleep well. The least ¢éxertion tired me out, and if I walked a few blocks I would be ailâ€" most breathless. My sister advised me to take Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills, and afâ€" ter using them for a few weeks i am again enjoying good health, and have good cotor, J think every weak girl should take Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills. sin and lupporudon:fleeoo(aon- pe placed over the alcohol lamp. i:‘m!’!qn is very rapid, 20 minutes BLOODLESS GIRLS DEATH TO MOSQUITOES, ; All the love there is in the universe ,'prncz-edn from loving hearts. Love is not , an abstraction, but is the actual maniâ€" | fesiation of personality. Wherever there is love there is some {erlon who exerâ€" l cises it, &nd without whom it would not ; and could not exist. As well might one expect to find sin in the world apart ! from sinful beings as to find love apart from loving hearts and lives. The central source, masifestation and embodiment of love is God himself. He |is so disposed in his infinite perfection that he must have objects upon which to lavish himself, and in order to have them he must create them and provide for them. His love is not an abstratâ€" tion, nor can we conceive it as a mere characteristic or attribute, but are made acquainted with it in the exercise or bestowal of it upon the objects of his . love. & A light gives light, and a loving perâ€" son loves. We know that a light is a light, because it gives light, and a lovâ€" ing person will find objects to love and will love them. So far as we know,the universe is infinite. We do not know where its boundaries are or could be, and it may be that epace is infinite in extent, peopled _ with worlds, as the habitation of the infinite God, even as eternity, which is time without beginâ€" ning or end.inï¬eh the lifetime of the eternal God. is everywhere and alâ€" ways, infinite and eternal, and it may bethatit‘r::lmnhflnlu universe to satisfy be the object of love of his infinite heart,. Without a commenâ€" ;s_t}n.u ubjeethnhlmenollhpnpc ife. . But what a terrible metamorphosist Where once was a smilizg landscape is now but a black ruin, a ravaged devasâ€" tated wilderness. Where oncs all was gay in floral beauty, tufts of heatherâ€" bel! all agiow in a brilliant pink, tassels and garlands of traveller‘s joy hanging in luxuriant profusion from the boughs of a tall thorn or hazel, erect spikes of purple foxglove, or pendant drupes of the graceful bitterâ€"sweet, all now are swept away and reduced to ashes, and in their place is but a desolate waste. In buying a horee a wo etaily ‘able to drive a 1 though she may not be able An Avalanche of Firc. (By a Banker.) Amongst tne most aweâ€"inspiring specâ€" tacles ever witnessed -p-":ï¬. earth a Tncst phagk wp.mp: h 4 most p with a carelessly thrown lighted imatch, a strong wind fans the flame, and in an incredâ€" ibly short space of time a broad stretch of hbeath is blazing furiously. . Ever out, the conflagration is soon a very 5.,. of fire, curling billows of wildfire, savagely leaping and bounding onwards; new, as a wide breath of gorse is reached, with a fierce roar the livid flames mounting hbigh in air, forked, bloodâ€"red tongues of palpitating fire quivering and vih-sd-a‘:d( concealed midst the rolling gyra‘ wreaths . of blinding smoke; now, as a Clump of taill firs is gripped by the devouring torrent, a very inferno, a whirlwind of eddying flames, surging madly in a frenzied spasm of lurid rage with a hearse stridor as though it were the blast of a wild, infuriated burricane; and now, the gale moderating, stealing asong with diminâ€" ished fury, thonr still a bissing sea of tossing fiery rollers; until at length the destroying blast subsides, the convulsive roar is etilled, and the wild, raging orgasm is quelled. _ NO _ jIr. Brownson (reading the paper)â€" I see that lnthom-tnor-n-unoib loulwed .::thnu-um nulu_han. 0 . Brownson iplacidly)â€"How nate‘ I can imagine how glad uu..a gers were to get on dry land. Where once the lark earolled forth his love song on high, or the yellow hammer warbled its harmonious chant, or the blackeap â€" trilled out its â€" melodious strophes, all is now silent at the grave; not a songster of the wood venâ€" tures near that charred and gruesome desolation, nor enlivens its dismal melâ€" ancholy with its tuneful harmony; not a squirrel will caper on those lifeless, blackened trees; not an animal will Me had time to see the beauty That the Lord spread all around; HMe had time to bear the music In the shells t.hkc childrent:ound; He had time to repeatin As he bravely we;?ked cwayg "It is splendid to be living In the splendid world toâ€"day!" But the crowdsâ€"the crowds that hurry Aiter golden prizesâ€"said That he nover had suceeded When the clods Jay o‘%er his headâ€" He had dreamedâ€"*"He was a failude," they commioutely sighed, For the mar little money in his pockets when he died. _ _ gambo! on that stricken waste. For now the blithesome scene is but a dreary lugubrious wreck, the gay, flowery prosâ€" pect a lifeless, withered ruin. And we too, if the taint of sin, inâ€" herited or committed, is washed away and blotted out from the record through faith in the atonement made for us by the Saviour of the world, then is our lot in this life an existence enlivened with buoyant, exultant joys; and in the life to come, an inheritance of ecstatio gladness and of ravishing enchantments. But if we forget our Creator and reject His plan of salvation, then the fires of retribution pass over us, our heart beâ€" comes but a seared and aching void, and the world to come but a dread vision of blackness and ruin. The Man ‘Who Won. He kept his soul unspotted As he went upon his way, And he tried to do some service For God‘s people day by day; He had time to cheer the doubter Who complained that hope was dead; He had time to help the cripple When the way was rough ahead; He had time to guard the orphan, and one day, well satisfied With the talents God had given him heg closed his eyes and died, Ol4 sypnPEY Mr An Hl Wind, Etc. The Divine Love (London ‘Titâ€"Bits.) ‘Ry NomS =â€"Record â€"Herald