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T‘S PERIL. PÂ¥ ramin rOM i BECAN T SC {CEDF. uarter of Mile. With His Air 1) en N# To LZAX 1M is Â¥a ns uP ot Torm D ost ut "What is the matter, Uncle?# " and| A quick sob rose in M Mona came over to stand on the hearthâ€"| as she spoke, and Uncie & rug opposite him. quickered condition of mind "Matter! It‘s the deil‘s own matter. "What‘s wrang wi‘ ye," "Guid preserveus!" wus his first exâ€" elamation. "They‘re gane clean daft! Wha‘d hae thought 0‘â€"suchâ€"such perâ€" weraity‘" The sound of the wheels had hardty died away when Uncle Sandy came into the room and threw himself into an armâ€" chair, upsetting the fireâ€"irons with an unusual amount of elatter. Mr. Craig had been pottering about the garden, and Mona thought she had heard the tapâ€"tapping of his stick in the hall just before the excursionists had driven off. Mona volunteered to remain with her uncle, and â€"with a degree of unreasonâ€" ablemess, for which she scorned herself â€"â€"felt hurt that Waring had made no attempt to persuade her to come with them. Kenneth had taken a holiday from the spring operations of field and byre, and proposed to take Mary and Waring for a drive through Strathairlie and Balmuir, that the former might see some of the fine views in the neighborhood, as his time was now growing short. It was a few days after the aboveâ€" recorded conversation. Mona was in the library, entering sundry items into an account book, which her uncle had great ride and pleasure in teaching her to eep in the most orthodox fashion. It was a lovely day stolen from May to beautify the last hours of March. The blue sky, the glittering loch, the balmy air which stole like a caress aound cheek‘ and throat, seemed to promise that "gloomy winter was awa‘." I She rather dreaded the moment when the ruler of Craigdarroch would awake to the knowledge that the "bit lad and lassie," as he considered them. had taken their lives into their own hands, irrespecâ€" tive of his consent. If he was angry and unreasonable on the subject, it might be terribly bad for both young ecreaâ€" tures, though his evident liking for Mary was a great point in their favor. Indeed, Mona wished to turn her thoughts from the pain, the dull aching which opsressed her, to pros and cons of her friends‘ forâ€" tunes. It seemed strange to Mona that Uncle Sandyâ€"who, though on the whole exâ€" tremely indifferent to things which did not affect himself, was, when his attenâ€" tion was arowsed, a keen observerâ€"did not notice the complete understanding which existed â€" between Kenneth and Mary, nor the very loverâ€"like attentions which, as he grew more at ease in his new home, the young Highlander could. not refrain from bestowing on the lady | of his heart. But, as many strongâ€"willed persons do, Uncle Sandy was very apt to make plans without taking into acâ€" count the individual likings or dislikings of the persons affected by them. "No, no! I exact too much," he in terrupted. "I will leave you in peace." "You know you exact nothing." "That is true. You all give _ freely Nevertheless. 1 will say goodâ€"night." "If you would l;keame t‘:“ re youâ€"" began Mona, for there was thing desponding in his tone. _ Coodâ€"night," _ he said to her. ‘I am rather tired. _ Miss _ Black is booked for chess, and, you are going to read, so I had better go to bed." wiv e Las 12 LD Ans, 3 1 CE Ob t St. John Lisle, and does his friend!iness incline him to reâ€" joice at the prospect of a good marriage for me?" She rose and wont into the next room to find a book, for an exeuse not to talk any more. As she returned, she met Warâ€" ing, who had followed her. i C eneeante ‘"Nothing to come for," ing, as if to himself; and ly thoughtâ€""Does he inag the attraction to St. Jo does his friend!iness incli joice at the prospect of a . for me?" "Perhaps. I do not think it likely. I believe my uncle is already in treaty with some one else for the shooting, so there will be nothing to come for." uis iky .. % lC Goodâ€"night â€" 20 OCCCC CRAREEN IELA. IT 48 ABSOLUTELY PURE AND F, DELICIOUS THan JAPAN Lead Parkate a~1. Ed Are You‘a‘ Japan Lead Packets only. 40¢ Won at Last ing to come for." e for," repeated Warâ€" If; and Mona suddenâ€" be imag_ine that I am If so, me to read to » soc and 6oc per Ib. At ask your grocer for someâ€" inâ€" A quick sob rose in Mona‘s throat as she spoke, and Uncie Sandy, in his quickered condition of mind, observed it. "Perhaps so, uncle, but the true man thinks the girl within his reach just as sacred and precious, if she is dear to him." "Ah, my lassie, but that was a‘ differâ€" ent. She was a gran young leddy, wi‘ five figures to her tocher; an‘, Mona, my dear, a mon thinks a deal 0‘ the girl that‘s just abune his reach." "Don‘t you think if Miss Leslie had loved you, uncle, you would have clung to her though ‘faither and maither and a‘ should go mad‘." "Ech, the follic-s“‘o-’mél.x.i'l.drcn dinna reckon." "C** T shall be pleased to come back: but I like to go away sometimes; and I am old of my ‘years." "Avreel, I deserve that 0‘ Kenneth that he shouldna hae spoken to a lassie without asking me first." "Why, that is more tha a father could expect from a son; and, besides, we do not know how long these two may have loved each otherâ€"perhaps before you had any claim on Kenneth." _ "But uncle, of all the steps a man can take the most important to himself is matrimony. Now, where would you find a sweeter girl than Mary. You miss her _yourself when she goes; can‘t you fancy her and Kenneth making a happy home for you and caring for you. Suppose he married a rich girl, who had been «+Guâ€" cated at some firstâ€"rate school, do sou think she would be content to live Lere as your housekceeper and have no change from year‘s end to year‘s end." "And what for shouldn‘t she." "! do not know why, but L am quite sure that most girls would tire of Craigâ€" darroch, sweet and lovely as it is; even 1 do." ‘lotâ€"â€"you tire of a braw home lil:e‘ this few ; an‘ if he crosses me, I‘ll juvst pit him oot. Why should I gie my money to a feckless loon wha hasna the sense to consult me in the maist important step o‘ his road." "I fancy there is much more probaâ€" bility that Kenneth would be all the wiser and stronger for the companionâ€" ship of a woman that looks up to him." 3 o d mip rampalhamartadierarho Ahe 4 â€">â€" "Whaur‘s the use of t;;gl;fw'lrng"’ Ma;'y Black is no the wife. I want for my neyâ€" few: an‘ if he crosses ma VH inct wik "You‘ll just drive me aff my heid!" he interrupted. "Don‘t you see that Kenneth needs a wife wi‘ a tocherâ€"a bit siller!â€"a carefu‘, thoughtfu‘ woman wha‘d be a guide and a stay to him, not a bit lassie that he‘ll be Dauvid an‘ Solomon and the rest too." ho e es en sds e umt to do so," said Mona, instinctively feelâ€" ing that a bold tone was the best; "esâ€" pecially as I think Kenneth and Mary would make each other very happy, and you too, uncle. You kwow what a s weetâ€"" "And do you mean to tell me," almost screamed Uncle Sandy, ‘that ye saw it, and suspected it a‘ the time, and never warned me?" "Well, uncle," began Mona, after a short pause, "I am not surprised. Any one might have seen they were growing fond of one another; which was not to be wondered at, forâ€"" Listen to me. When I cam‘ in frae the garden, 1 saw the chaise at the door, and 1 went into the hall to ca‘ them, and was nigh slippin‘, but got on to the bit carpet, and into the drawing room; an‘ what should I see but Kenneth standin‘ by the window wi‘ his arm round Mary Black, and her head on his shoulder, as if she war weel used to it! He was sayâ€" ing, ‘My ain love, it‘s hard to have paâ€" tience‘; but before I could break oot upon them, I heard Mr. Leslie‘s voice beâ€" hind me, and, before I had rightly recovâ€" cred my senses, they were awa. Noo! what do you think o0‘ such a pair | o‘ eediots â€" o‘ _ worthless, unprineipled eediots ?" "Well, uncle," began Mona, after a did not see that it was my duty Tea Drinker? AND FAR MORE All Grocers. he asked. command me*" "Then here is my story." . She proâ€" cooded to doiail the Listory o. Henueth‘s "Do," said Waring, changing his posiâ€" tion, and looking out into the sea. "At least, you may trust me to keep counâ€" sel, and if I can do anything, need I say "He is really very good. I have nothâ€" ing to comglain of. 1 have been depressâ€" ed lately because Iam puz#led. L â€"am greatly tempted to tell you why, and to ask your advice." "No doubt. It strikes me he is very exacting. You have seemed to me weary, andâ€"and depressed, of late. Does he worry very much?" °.\ ©°n"C JCAInIng expression they ofâ€" I ten woreâ€""I dare say your uncle thinks he might be the best poet in the kingâ€" dom, if ‘he laid his mind to it, as he would say himself." Mona laughed. "Very likely. 1 suppose his good opinâ€" ion of fl.imseh‘ has beepn & leveg to hgist himself withal." y "It is a delicrious piace to read in," said Mona, as they sat down. "On a very still day you can hear the dash and ripâ€" ple of the waves down there like a soft awcom{lmniment to your thoughts, or the thoui ts you are reading. ‘Then, later on, the hum of the bees as they gather the honey from the whins, as Uncle Sand cals them, makes a complete harmony with the whisper of the wavelets. It is enough to make a poet even of my uncle." "I dare say," said Waring, resting his elbow on his knee, and his head on his hand, while his eyes dwelt on hers with the grave, yearning expression they ofâ€" kaw cunted ME 3LL OOR t @PFIW io Pafliest yeliow honeyâ€"scented gorse blosâ€" soms were to be found. Behind the seat were bif gray boulders, scattered among the tall brackens, and from the little space of level ground where it stood, the hillside rose steeply up. They proceeded through the grounds into the group of oak trees beyond. On the edge of the little wood was a bench, from which was a view of the sea, beâ€" tween two rocky hills. A nurrow ravine opened steeply down to the beach, widâ€" ening as it descended, and here, on its sheltered sides, the first primroses, the earliest yellow honeyâ€"scented gorse blosâ€" soms were to be found. Behind the seat were big sray boulders sratkaral aeus... "Very well," she returned. show you my favorite baunt." P seaue ol menpt iE e t "Let me come with you," he said one afternoon, when she had complained of a headache, and begged Mary to read to Mr. Craig, while she went to try the fresh air cure. “'aring felt 1hntusom:t1;ing had gone wrong, and watched Mona‘s expressive face with profound sympathy. tap.c Li ht En OS P Lo n oue aTeDere Uncle Sandy was in a very queer temâ€" per after this discussion. He was queruâ€" lous and complaining, yet occasionally obsequious to his niece, on whom he had grown very dependent, and of whose inâ€" dependence he stood in awe. But Mona felt infinitely depressed, and singularly lonely. If she could but see the question of Kenneth‘s engagement set at rest. she would certainly â€" take leave of absence and pay her dear Deb a visit. Not that she ‘could ever tenl even that dear friend the secret of her inner sorrow; but the sound of her kind voiceâ€"the changeâ€"would bring relief. THonke is y3 . great gain if he grew accustomed to the idea of the engagement before he was able to fly out and pledge himself to opâ€" position, for to an obstinate, headstroug nature like his, retraction was almost imposible. He had an immense contempt for men who threatened and did not exeâ€" cute. The premature discovery was very emâ€" barrassing to Mona. Her conviction that it would make matters worse if Mary or Kenneth knew that Uncle Nandy‘s eyes had been opened gave her courage, however, to keep it a secret from the parties most interested. It would be a __"What‘s come to the lassie?" he said. ‘She‘s nae like hersel‘. She is just deep in luve wi‘ Kenneth. I always thocht it, and I am seldom wrang. I‘ll keep a calm sough, an‘ maybe things may come right. That Mary is a bonnie girl, douce an‘ handyâ€"but, na, na, there are few can come up to my ain niece!" P & ue e o e En e C Careh "Very well," she said ; "I promise. But you must not be cross; you must be nice and kind, as you have been." "I‘m muckle obleeged to you for the compliment," "And Uncle, don‘t think I want to leave you. I am grateful to you, and I like you; I am interested in you, for you are full of character; but if you are unâ€" 'just to Kenneth on my account, or if you doubt me, and try to worry me inâ€" to marrying any one I do not like, I shall just go away, becauseâ€"â€"" "Because what," asked Mr. Craig, somewhat struck by her tone. "Because I do not care a straw what becomes of me! She turned and left the room abruptly, Mr. Craig looked after her, immensely puzzled. Mona was silent for a moment or two, while she thought that it would do no good to put the offending pair on guard. NO Aovew.â€" avse t dn o 0 o NeE 1 _ b° 50 may with them in Paris; and you will bully poor Kenneth till he does not know a mangléewurzel from a kale." ‘"You are just a trifle too clever, misâ€" sie," said Uncle Sandy, iritated, but not conquered. ‘I dinna understand why you are so strong on they fules‘ side. Howâ€" ever, I‘ll mafie no disturbance while Mr. Leslie‘s in my house. But promiseâ€"for promise you mustâ€"gic me your word not to let them know I am ‘acquaint wi‘. their foolishness." I c un as. €C..20000" 220 TDICC was l unsteady. "I did without you before, and I can again." __"That is for you to consider. Now, uncle, make me a promise." "What is it," he asked cautiously, "While Mr. Waring stays, make no disturbance. He has been so comfortable here, let him take his good impression unimpaired. If you speak to Kenneth, and show displeasure, Mary will _ go away, and her people will forbid her to speak to Kenneth; our pleasant life will be broken up; I shali be too distressed to remain; I shall accept General and‘ Mrs. Fielden‘s often repeated invitation to go and stay with them in Paris; and you will bully poor Kenneth till he does not know a mangléewurzel from a kale." SYOu Are SE a trifin taa spewll TY‘ P Coy 0 BuF 2C T200E cle Sandy, sternly, though his unsteady. "I did without you l I can again." "That is for you to consi uncle, make me a promise." "What is it," he asked cau "While Mr. Waring stays, disturbance. He has been so ec here, let him take his good i unimpaired. If vou speak tn "You‘re no fond o‘ the laddie "Only in a sisteriy way, I a I am deeply interested in his "Sace am I; but I canna se his welfar‘ to wed wi‘ a pnennile ma COHAPTER XXVI ond o° the laddie yourset‘." sisteriy way, I assure you. interested in his welfare." ; but I canna see it‘s for d. It would be a accustomed to the "I will voice was The village of Fryeburg in Maine was wiped out¢by a fire a short time ago while engines k&m the city of Portland stood idle on the streets. The hose of the Portland fire eompgzu woud not connect with the hydrants.~"Both Toronto and Bartimore have suffered frem the same cause within the last .two L‘:’ years, the assistance of other citâ€" W VARHEW endPomiteviestcieArcdss ol t# 7 c a !.e‘l boln! fluvfllnble for them in their time (London Daily Mail.) A Cornhill tailor has the following poster in his window: Happiness is a sign of health in babâ€" ies. _ Nearly all their troubles vanish when they digest food well and are free from teething pains. Baby‘s Own Tabâ€" lets brings happiness to babies by curâ€" ing stomach troubles, constipation, feâ€" verishness, diarrhoea, and teething trouâ€" bies. There‘s a smile in every dose and the mother has a solemn guarantee that this medicine contains no opiate or harmâ€" ful drug. Mrs. James Jewers, Beaver Harbor, N. S., says: "I have given my baby Baby‘s Own Tablets as occasion required since she was a day old, They: have always helped her, and now at a year and a half old she is a fine healthy child. _ I think every mother should aiâ€" ways keep these Tablets on hand." You can get Baby‘s Own Tablets from any medicine dealer or by mail at 25 cents a box by writing The Dr. Williams‘ Meâ€" dicine Co., Brockville, Ont. "Superb! The redwood on the edge of which I am located are the finest stretch of forests you can imagine. I am afraid to tell you the dimensions of the treesâ€" you would think I was romancing; then the beauty and luxuriance of the underâ€" \growth. such feed for hogsâ€"not very nteresting stock, I acknowledge, but very profitableâ€"while in the more open spaces, and where it has been cleared, such a soil for wheat. Then, of course, we have a number of employeesâ€"huntâ€" ers, herdsmen, keepers of various kinds, and some Chinamen for servants. The climate is perfection, the sunsets and sunrisings marvelously lovely." "What a wonderful couniry! You ought to be happy there." (To be continued.) "You forget that a broken arm does not constitute an invalid, I am as atrong as a horse now." "Perhaps so. Then the country is very fine about these dreaded ‘cities"" _ "Between mi' place of abode and it," he returned. "Well, yes! though there are inconveniences. Yet you would be surâ€" prised if you knew how many good felâ€" lowsâ€"kindly, brave, generousâ€"are scatâ€" tered about among the general rowdy population, like nuggets in dirt. Are you goingâ€"" _ _ _ _ ‘¥es, you have sat here long enough The sun is beginning to go down." "Oh, very likely! Indeed. given certain conditions, and 1 can imagine enjoying life on the ranch very muchâ€"though we are twentyâ€"five miles from the nearâ€" est ‘city,‘ as it is calledâ€"and it is merely a big village, minus the rustictty of a village, and plus the gas, the gilding, the lookingâ€"glasses, the gambling, the cieat- ing, the orgies of a big modern town." "What an awful place," said Mona. "You must be glad to have twentyâ€"five miles between your home and it." _ "Is she afraid I am to;gett_m;; .tvh.e"l:i- ter lesson she once gave me?" thought he. .J-v-- uPERTEV PPR CWTIET CUNCE life, so I must and will f:mke it :t:::egf And (Dr. Willinms‘ Pink Pills can but itâ€"it‘s an Aawful Wrench to go i flo just as much for cvery weak, ail can‘t deny that! Stillâ€"" He broke off,| 05 PSlefaced young woman who i§ and meeting her eyes, exclaimedâ€""if 0“’ slipping from anaemia into a demllm 106k so sorry for me, I shall make a fooj | decline. _ Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills ac. of myself. That is," flushing svmpntheti-“"“”." make new blood. In that mes cally as he saw her color ris'e, "I lhlll,”“’“’ strike straight ;!t th I t“‘y whine and bemoan my hard fate in a !@!! common _ discases “kp("l"OO 44 fashion that will not increase â€" any | beadaches and backaches ]war.tmw'“l“?' gleams of respect you may have for me.Z tation, indigestion, neuralgi: fuma: "Is she afraid I am forgetting the bitâ€" | tism and thg:'w(‘l't"t n'; ents «id irrego: :lir lesson she once gave me?" thought larities of girls and :lorr':l:'rllm :,(:fil l{)?p:l a 3 . dealers in medici ‘ mail at $ Dicgthe imagine 4 am fish medicine or by mail at 50 nvow::;l of the affection whicl:nfin:o:ii::ll ;eh'it SI‘)lr b{)\?'('l;,'r sw' boxcjs.for ?2;'0 e ou‘%'? thought sie. ille Ol;t illiams‘ Medicine Co., Brock-' "Oh, about this day week. I must go then. And my arm is nearly as good as new. By the time I get to the end of my journey I shall be quite fit for work." â€"_"Andâ€"and how do you like the idea of {:ing back to the woods?" this in a low ne. "Like it? There is no use in thinking about liking what must be. I have cut myself adrift from every other kind of life, so I must and will make it answer;| but itâ€"it‘s an awful wrench to go. I‘ can‘t deny that! Stillâ€"" He broke off, and meeting her eyes, exclaimedâ€""if you I look so sorry for me, I shall make a {001'1 "She is indeed!â€"a true, loving friend! And when do you think of Feaving?” asked Mona, steadying her voice by an effort. "In Paris, where they intend to make some stay." "I was in hopes they might be in London. I should like to see Mrs. Fieldâ€" en againâ€"â€"l think she is a capital woâ€" man." Both were silent for a few minutes, then Waring asked a little abruptlyâ€" "Where is Madameâ€"I mean â€" Mrs. Fieldenâ€"now ?" "My havi% any influence on so shrewd & man as Mr. Craig must seem a conâ€" siderable mystery to you," sard Waring, laughing. ‘I feel much tlattered, and will do the best I can for the cause." _ "Then, Mr. Waring, the help you can give me â€" 1 ~mean us â€" is to talk in a natural, easy way to Uncle Sandy about Kenneth‘s elglfe- ment, as ifâ€"you considered it a settled thing, from your own observation." _ . "Well, I do," said Waring. "My uncle, I can see, has a ver high opinion of youâ€"you have a sort o{ mysâ€" terious influence upon himâ€"so you must give”Kennetb and Mary all the help you can. :r'vmt, and Uncle Sandy‘s accidenâ€" ’ discovery. ©"YÂ¥ou u.g is a yery ser }Kusuima,t:er," she conc{u e'd "Kenneth quite dependent on Uncle Sandy, and wmldhoi):ut of favor, and dinmisfi, both wou in a very hopeless condition." "I see that. 1 trust old Craig won‘t turn rusty. It would be very cmg How can anyone be in the house with them and not sée the state of affairs? They seem to me made for each other. But you have done the best you could in getâ€" ting your.uncle to keep quiet. He will get used to the idea." Mi Nu Gudes ar Speshull Selektid with a vu tu Kwaliti and Stile Kombvned with EkonomikAl ‘Charjes. Nu American spoke and rote heer wen . Rekwird. ASSU y Some Towns Burn (Cleveland Leader.) BABY‘S FRIEND. Simple Spelling. have TORONTO §14 gallons of beer, at 2s 84 702 dinners, at 2s.. 6d. ... .. Laid out in victuals at George M :x 0) +is) in s 4 + s ; ME n + 4y 4‘ en Laid out in drinking ........ â€" Laid out in tobacco and drinking vessels" ... 2 iL n vags 353 botles of rum and gin, at PP u09 e ues i. 30. .. 0B 57 ditto French brandy, at 109 As a contrast to the singular economy of the Bath clection in 1646 it may not be amiss to subjoin the following list of "charges of one day‘s expenses at a small pothouse at lchester in the conâ€" test for the county of Somerset in 1813": "Note. I gave the city mossenger °2 shillings for bearing the mayor‘s letter to me. Laid out in all £3 7 shillings for victuals, drink and horse hire, together with divers gifts." _ ‘Mr. Chapman,. the mayor, came to Kelâ€" ston and returned thanks for my being chosen to serve in parliament ,to my father, in the name of all the citizens. My father gave me good advice, touching my speaking in parliament, as the city should direct me. Come home late at night from Bath, much troubled thereâ€" at, concerning my proceceding truly for man‘s good report and my own safety. "Jan, 1 my father gave me £4 to bear my expenses at Bath. "Thursday, 31, went to _ Bath; Mr. Ashe preached. Dined at the George inn with the mayor and four citizens; spent at dinner 6 shillings in wine. "Saturday, Dec. 26, 1646, _ went to Bath and dined with the mayor and ciâ€" tizens; conferred about my election to serve in parliament, as may father was belpless and ill able to go any more. Went to the George inn at night, met the bailiffs and desired to be dismissed from serving. Drank strong beer and methegâ€" lin; expended about 3 shillings; went home late, but got excused, as they enâ€" tertained a &d opinion of my father. "Monday, 28, went to Bath. Met Sir John Horner; we were chosen ®# the citizens to serve for the city. The mayor and citizens conferred ubou;:’dp:rlisment 1 business. The mayor promi Sir John Horner and myself a horse apiece when we went to London: to the parliament, which was accepted of, and we talked about the synod and ecclesiastical dismisâ€" sions. I am to go again on Thursday and meet the citizens about all such matâ€" ters and take advice thereon. Candidates‘ Expenses at That Time Much Lower Than Now. _ Acording to a manuscript prepared by J. Harrington, Esq., of Kelston, in Somâ€" ersetshire, England, campaign expenses were not lavish in the middle of the seyâ€" enteenth century, The manuscript is dated 1646 and is called "A Note of My Bath Business About the Parliament." It runs: | "Before my daughter Lena began |taking Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills she ‘flooked more like a corpse than a live |girl," says Mrs. George A. Myles, of | South _ Woodslee, Ont. _ "Her â€" blood seemed. as though it had all turned to water. Then she began to â€" have |bad spells with her heart. At â€" the |least â€" excitement her heart would beat so rapidly as to almost smothâ€" er her. She grew very thin, had no appetite, and what little food she did eat did not seem to nourish her. | She was treated by one of the best doctors in this part of the country, yet she was daily growing worse and her heart got so bad that we were afraid that she would die. She sles)t1 but very little, and would frequently . awake with a start â€" and sometimes would jump right out of bed. _ These starts would always bring on a bad spell â€" and leave her weak and exâ€" hausted. _ We had _ almost given up all hope of her ever being well again. wher we decided to try Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills. _ After taking a couple of boxes she began to sleep better _ at night, and color began to return to her lips. From that on _ she kept 'right on gaining and _ after _ taking eight boxes of the pills she was again in good health. She is now fifteen years of age, the picture of health, and since beginning the pills has gained about forty pounds in weight, _ Only those who saw her when ill can appreciate the marvelâ€" lous change Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills have brought about in her condiâ€" tion. _ I believe that had it not been for the pills she would be in her grave toâ€"day, and it is with feelings of } great gratitude that ! write you in the hope that it may benefit some other sufâ€" | ferer," Saved Just in Time by IN A DEADLY DECLINE. CAMPAIGN BILLS IN 1646. Hoaxâ€"What a lumbering gait he has. g:axâ€"Ol eourse; he bas a â€"wooder "Â¥et all that poets sing ig 4 known it husith vfocaindtt Gedsicsach us t OR Y tunately, however remote the newcomâ€" er‘s town or clachan, there is sure to have preceded him at least one neighbor. Otherwise he might feel that he was stranded indeed in the midst of the busist, loneliest city on earth. Â¥ Of hopes laid alone." D EDCm CEY THC ToRy sons various and often complex. Perhaps the simplest and safest clue is that the Scot gets as much as possible out of himâ€" self andâ€"other people. But Scotemen are thickly sown in the fields of insurance and stock broking, in the former outrivalling the smart Amerfâ€" can, in the latter threatening the firm hold of the German Jew., The Scot‘s success is obvious: the reaâ€" 2 CCCCC MIBUVEPM, Perhaps the diepartment of London commercial life with the strongeet Seota accent is that of shipping, a form of enâ€" terprise which has always been a congenâ€" ial one to the Caledonian mind. 1 AO0 Eomm FUR ENTHEel, | Although Scotemen have climbed high in the service of the English banks, they show to speciai advantage in the emâ€" ployment of the Indian and Colonia] inâ€" stitutions. Thanks largely to their rovâ€" ing tendencies, a quick perception of opâ€" portunities in younger countries, â€" and some slight prejudice against them on the part of the old English banks (now scarcely to be observed). the Sceots have taken Indian and Colonial banking into their own hands, It 1s searcely possible to enter the London office of any Indian, Canadian, African or Australian bank, _ without coming into contact with a Seottish manâ€" ager, accountant, or secretary, not to mention innumerable junior officers enâ€" trenched behind till, ledger, and desk, As the proud boast goes, there was no banking in the true sense until Scotland adopted the jointâ€"stock system _ and taught it to her less advanced sisters, Perhaps f“" department of London Aninenmeatst 4k 0 LV ue ; After all, it is hardly necessary to enumerate the prominent Scotemen in the London banks, even were it possfâ€" ble. _ I am not alluding, of course, to the officials and staff of any of the Lonâ€" don branches of the Scottish banks, who naturally recruit ninetyâ€"nine per cent. of their men from beyond the border, Take the rcalm of city life in its narâ€" rowest sense. In how many banks is the Scot in evidence* The Bank of Engâ€" landâ€"founded by a worthy Scotsman, William Patersonâ€"has on its staff not a few of his fellowâ€"countrymen. _ Two names stand out amongst the head offiâ€" clalsâ€"Mr. Kenneth Grahame, the secreâ€" tary (not unknown in letters also), and Mr. J. Gordon Nairne, chief cashier, The latter, whose signature is so famitiar upon the notes of his institution, is a respected elder at St. Columba‘s (Church of Seoatland), Pont street, the church where Dr. Fleming has succeeded Dr. Donald Macleod. Every decent Scottish lad, who ha» come up to London attended by the three guardian ange!s of poverty, push, and patience, has, sooner or later, found his way to the front. â€"it is a matter of everyday comment that the Scotsman in London has usuat ly succeeded in making his mark. 8e much for Sydrey Smith‘s "garret" and "knuckle end of England!" } In every department of London‘s proâ€" | fessional, commercial. and industria) life. says a writer in the Scottish Review, the Scot stands high, trusted by his suâ€" perior officers, respectedâ€"and perhaps a little fearedâ€"by his subordinates. This is a fact concerning which many absurd things have been said and written, but it remains none the less a fact. Granted that there are, alas! mnfv promising young Scotsmen who, dazzled and be â€" witched by the tawdry attractions of London‘s sinister sine, have been flung into the vortex of oblivionâ€"and worse _ Be that as it may, it is certainly a fact that in the ranks of clerkdom there is mone so prominent as the Scot, not even the German, who has so freely inâ€" vaded London during the past ten years. There is much in common between these two "aliens," the secret of their success being in each case the triple combina tion of simplicity of life, dogged deterâ€" mination, and a philosophic conviction that the drab prosent will in the ful ness of time dissolve to a roseate fuâ€" ture. Rome one cynically remarks that Lonâ€" don‘s city populationâ€"the tens of thouâ€" sounds wno pour into the Square Mile every morning and stream out again at nightâ€"is rapidly becoming composed of Scots men and women. Our Scotch \ Corner. ‘ THE SCOT IN LONDON LIFE. waste, knells in that word r walk that the Seot holds the present moment, he has d _ in _ politics and the is his name unhonored or , and grief hath in the who rey MHe ~cares for us with a care implying eonstant and tender solicitude, yet tranâ€" quil and sercne in the infinite light which does all things well. * * *~ * While our care is like the angry wind that lashes the ocean into tempestuous fucy, and sends its crested billows in swiit assault upon the shore, His care is like the brooding dove which , at _ the beginning, moved over the face of the chaotic waters; or like the unruffied voice which, when the surf 'm high on Galilee, quelled the fear as it cried: “?‘um, be still!"â€"The Ortit of Life, by W. ‘p. Herridge, D. D. wile to receive him midet wola;m:nâ€"i welcomes and joyous angelic jubilations, The L Mrsus .2 imere are some lives whose plans are so completely thwarted that their story is most prathetic as we read it; yet we have but to follow it through to the end to see that the broken life was better and more effective than if its own plan had been carried out. But during the night, alas! the besom of destruction sweeps over the gay scene, a blast of the geli(g breath of the north bovers ghouldike over it, and the fell hand of death has ruthlessly â€" struck down its floral victims; so that where but yesterday all was beauty, and grace, and lovely radiance, toâ€"day is but a blackened ruin, a grim, unlovely desojaâ€" tion. And though the wind veers round and waits the genial air from more sumny climes never more will those }ijeâ€" less luufien revel in the sunsh_e; nover lfi: wil. Shey gladden and fascim«te t who so appreciated their charms. And how does that destructive blast remind of the effect of disobedience Lo the Divins command and laws* Man, created for the enjoyment of supernad joys and pleasures in scenes of incomâ€" ceivable beauty and delight, â€" rebelling against his Maker or forgetting and igâ€" noring HMim, when struck down by the rr of the angel of death, realizes that of Paradise are barred against hbim : a flaming sword, and that he has M.‘W m title to those joys, But if, temptation to offend his Creator, he pleads in the Redosemer‘s name for forgiveness and for strength to live aright, when his time comes to 3" hence those gates will be opened de to receive him midst acclaamine They held a meeting in Hemilton to discuse e br&mi:,g to that c‘i:y.d E Torâ€" y al exander _only â€"~DiMg xple attendod. (‘The Q_{I‘;fi have s nere are Sew entirely unbroken lives in this world; there are few men who fuliil their own hopes and plans withâ€" out thwarting or interruption at some point. Now and then there is one who in early youth marks out a course for himself and then moves straight on it to its goal, but most persons live very dilferently from their own carly dreamâ€" ing. Many find at the close of their career that in searcely one rpartimhr have they realized their own 1i e dreams; alt every point God has simply set aside their plans and substitued His own. There are some lives whose plans are so completely thwarted that their story is most paethetic as we read it; yet we have but to follow it through to the end to see that the broken life was joimiry beds many another graceful beavty of the floral lights the oye and perfumes t phore; the whole kaleidoscopic lued display a brilliant pictur monious and attractive splen richness. the most v; entire range here a bed sating for t] treat hol!â€"â€"3 den‘i, glow ranged g: prime; he; a vivid di Like as the blast which swept rogant Sennacherib‘s mighty h. ing in its train but legions oo:‘m, so, in temperate climes, sarly frost seals the final doom a varioty of plant life, utterly the beauty of the bulliant f decked borders, and changing a gorgeous radiance into a disma °3 Cwers of Him of whom it was said, HMe pleased not Himsel{. in is own »ame we ask it. Amen. image of Thy Son of restoring to us the image which we have lost. We have been taught that God is love, and in Christ Jesus we have seen the divinc Jove incarnate upon earth,. We thanl Thee for His life of pure unselfishness and sacrifice for others. () grant that we, who by His sacrifice have been redecmed, may have bestowed upon us that same spirit of selfless love. Teach us in all the affairs and relations of life to conâ€" sider not merely our own welfare and happiness, but tze welfare and happiness of others also. Thus may we be true followers of Him of whom it was aiiA image we were at first created Thee for Thy purpose, manifes God‘s Care for His Children. To supplicate his broodi All days, all nights, thro‘ all God keep you, every time ar Your pillow from mll perils, dear From dark to dawn 1 pray his love to And watch you, hovering ever nea God keep you thro‘ the busy day, dear And nl" your feet thro‘ every chan From dawn to dark may not his love i Or lose its tender vigilence. Nay, Holy and most : ViTC is mnke the angry wind es the ocean into tempestuous | sends its crested billows in ult upon the shore, His care is bmodilq_; dove which , at the Lon of (Brantford Courier.) nay; there is no hour more beautilal than owing flower beds of sarden in all their V s The Besom of Desolation A Broken Life God Keep You. you thro‘ the sile Prayer, merciful God, in the silent night and , manifested in the restoring to us the o and every wi â€"Lesli¢‘s Weoek day, dear heart, chance :::' love Tmmn eternitios when 1 we thank \ id