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M P â€" D=c licals. ""C i nave Ore pence th A € PPOoI® % e FIRE, hest $10Ds my per H W t V® Cw Ya) "It was while this noble lady _ was still called the Baromness Etheridge, and upon the day preceding that fixed for her wedding with Mr. Albert Hastings, that William Lovell came down to our village. He sought an interview with me, and persuaded me, weak girl that I was, to consent to a private marriage." "And you consented? Unhappy girl!" "Yes, I consentedâ€"weakly and wickâ€" edly consentedâ€"to marry him clandes timncly that sume evening." "Unfortunate child! Oh, Rose, Rose!" "Bear with me. I consented, but L was providentially saved from the conâ€" summation of that folly, and at the same time forever cured of my dangerâ€" ous infatuation." "SALADA" HEALTHFUL "Yes, yes, dearest, I know the partic ulars of t.hst_ event ; prqeg_ed,_p(oceed.” "That eame afternoon upon which 1 fosterâ€"mother with her last message to promised to meet ‘him at a later hour to be married, I mwas sent by my poor Lady Etheridge, at Swinburne Castle. I was shown up into the library, where the lady sat, with the title deeds of the Swinburne estates before her, waiting for the arrival of her betrothed husband, Albert Hastings, that she might put them in his hands, and endow him with the whole property. While I was st:il with the lady, the expected visitor enâ€" tered, and in Albert Hastings, the beâ€" trothed husband of Lady Etheridge, 1 recognized William Lovel, my lover." "Good Heaven!" "I was saved! My misplaced love died hard, but it did die. The man who could at the same time deceive the noble lady who endowed him with her princely torâ€" tune, and the humble maiden who gave him her whole heartâ€"the man who could deliberately plan the destruction of that confiding maiden upon the very eve of his marriage with that highâ€"souled fady, was unworthy of regret, unworthy of reâ€" sentment, unworthy of everything exâ€" on! eept total oblivion." said Rose, with a beautiful and majestic expression. "CGive me your dear hand! Rose, you "There never was a woman with more antecedents to acknowledge than 1. There is yet another event that I must make krown to youâ€"an event connected with my earlier youth." "What! another seoret, dear Rose! a third secret!" "A third secret!" "I will not hear it! Only assure me that your hand and heart are now perâ€" fectly free, and that you are wilgng to bestow them upon my unworthy sclt, and I shall be hapyp." and said my life." "I will not hear it! Dear Rose, you are mine as I am yours! Te it not so*" For all answer she placed her hand â€"-'TMfywl;;ud and heart are free, and they are yours, if you want them; yet wou shovid know this third secret of “{Vo more, dear fefl’ no more! Thus to put you into t confessional were unmanly and ungenerous . What you have already told me is enough to prove the candor and purity of your heart. Bay only that you are mine. Say it, _ "And yet I would that you would hear what 1 have yet to tell you," she said, very earnestly. aos £~ wl 8 s io t hare dear Rose!" "I am yours." + * *# The same day leigh was infor and a few days the Duke of Be was announced CHA The announce the Duke of Ber Etheridge of Sw for, as usual, t! The same day the Duchess of Beresâ€" leigh was informed of the engagement, and a few days after, the betrothal of the Duke of Beresleigh to the Baronesa was announced to the world. CHAPTER XXIH. The announcement of the betrothal of the Duke of Beresieigh and the Baroness Etheridge of Swinburne eurprised no one, for, as usual, the world knew all wbout the affair long before the parties most concerned krew anything of it. Only Colonel Hastings was astonished, and Mr. Albert Hastings shocked. "I thought she would have preferred Sold only inr Sealed Lead Packets at Thank heaven for that Rose shook her head with a sad amil¢( TRIAL FOR LFE $ y9# 8688888688888 8888888880 49# BECAUSE OF ITS PURITY AND FREEDOM FROM COLORING MATTER C°68°6°8°6°6°668888588E Go onâ€"â€"go CEYLON TEA â€"h 40¢, 50¢, and Goc per 1b "Pho, if there is one thing in this world more tiresome than another, it is to be obliged to repeat the same things over and over again to people . upon whom you can make no sort of impresâ€" sion. Have I not told you that if, instead of the Duke of Beresleigh, it were a royal duke to whom she was contracted, I would, with a word, break the marriage to exercise her power a little longer beâ€" fore surrendering her liberty," said Colâ€" onel Hastings, musingly. "I hoped she would not soon forget. I always loved that girl, and I believe that she loved me. I did not think that any woman‘s love could have expired so soon," said Mr. Hastings, inâ€" dignantly. "Ah, my dear fellow, her passion did not go into a gentle decline in the natâ€" ural death," said the colonel, with a shrug. "Yes, by the shock she received in reâ€" cognizing me at the castle. Well, it is tll‘_qver now," sighed Albert Hastings. off Albert Hastings looked at his worthy father in incredulous astonishment. "Yesâ€"you doubt me; but wait a few days, and see if you do not have the breaking off of this intended marriage as publicly announced as its contgacâ€" tion was, I shall call upon Lady Etherâ€" idge toâ€"day." ‘This conversation took place in the breakfast parlor at Hastings House, as the father and son sat over their coffee and muffins. Colonel Hastings was as good as his word, and in the course of the same day presented himself at Beresleigh House, and sent in his card, with a request to see Lady Etheridge. He received the angwer that Lady Etheridge was engaged, and could not have the honor of seeing Colonel Hastâ€" ings. 5 This was just what he expected, so he went into a neighboring reading room, whence he. addressed a rote to Lady Etheridgo to the effect that he wished to see her upon matters of the utmost importance concerning â€" herself mostly. To this note he received an answer that any matters which Colonel Hastâ€" ings had to communicate to Lady Ethâ€" eridge must be addressed to her ladyâ€" ship‘s solicitor. dignity, saying: Colonel Hastings was baffled for the time. He permitted a day to pass, and then addressing the following note to Lady Etheridge: Hastings House, Sept. 12th, 18â€". Madam:â€"That which I have to comâ€" municate to your ladyship is a matter which you may not like to have confined even to your own solicitor, and which can be communicated to your ladyship alone. Abiding your ladyship‘s orders to wait upon you, I have the honor to be, madame, your obedient servant. William Henry Hastings. Rose took this note immediately to the duchess, who read it and laughed, saying : c e e ho. o t "You are no daughter of Eve if you do not see the old gentleman and Knd out what he means. See him, my love, see him. I confess to some curiosity." "‘l'!.(;s;*;\c_m};fiirlgiy wrote a note to Colâ€" onel Hastings requesting him to call the succeeding day at twelve o‘clock. Punctually _at noon the next day the colonel presented himself. He was shown at once to the library. Rose soon enterâ€" ed. This was the first occasion upon which Rose had ever met the father of her former lover. She advanced with cold "Colonel Hastings, I presume*" "The same, madam. I have the honor of addressing Lady Etheridge?" Hne o Oe o se Bs "Yes, sir. Will you be seated?" "I thank you, madam," said the colonel handing a chair to Lady Etheridge, and taking one for himself. 7 6 I 2 +4 leqoo epl k ud antags â€" in‘ c d se insl( l f They sat down at opposite sides of the reading table. "You demanded an interview with me, sir; may I be informed for what purâ€" pose?" inquired Rose, goldly. "I requested an interview with you, madam, in order to communicate a fact which came to my knowledge through my intimate and confidential relations with the late baron, and which vitally concerns your present position and prosâ€" Pect..” C . Whoia c o 8 on sns n aiel iucflntt â€" W:S.I.)“thh concerns my present posiâ€" tion and prospects. I do not understand you, sit." 2. o t ols Pn eCs id . cce s Paas EB0 0E T l "Your present gosition as Raroness Etheridge of Swinburne; your prospects as the affianced wife of the Duke _ of Beresleigh." “ia;:"\"ery sure that nothing which Colonel Hastings can have to communiâ€" #2> At all grocers. measure . of as he said ‘We shall see that, madam. Your ladyship has.heard of me,â€"perhaps, as the lifelong, intimate friend of the late baron *" * s Rose bowed haughtily. ; "You are also aware that I was left guardian of the person and property of the young lady who was brought up as his heiress." A Again Rose bowed in cold silence. "You have also heard, perhaps, that upon the last day and night of the late baron‘s life, when he refusod to see eithâ€" er physician or clergyman, he summoned me to his bedside, where 1 remained unâ€" til he died *" ‘I have heard so," #aid Rose, coldly. "On that last day and night of his life, the late Baron Ethberidge of Swinburne confided to me m secret," said Colomel Hastings, pausing. "Well, sir? cate can in any way afiect the one or the other,"â€"replied Rose, in so haughty a toue that the old gentleman lost some measure of his temper and selfâ€"control, "Well, sitr "~ * "That secret, that ‘act, of which I am the only custodian, of which I only possess proofs, would jf proclaimed, cast you down from your present high posiâ€" tion to your former panury and obâ€" scurity," said the colonel, slowly, woachâ€" ing the face of Ross to see the effect which his words produced. "That secret, that fact, with all its proofs, which, once divulged, would cast you down from wealth and rank to povâ€" erty and obscurity, is mine alone! and whether it shall ever be divulged rests with me and you alone! I only have the power of dashing the coronet of Swinburne from your brow; you only have the choice of bidding me close my lips forever or open them upon this subâ€" jeet." She turned a shade paler, but made no comment. ‘You now â€" know whether this secret concerns you or not," said the colonel, sarcastically. "Pray go on, sir; play the play out," replied Rose. f # n uprrald "I will. The secret confided to me on the deathbed of the late Baron Etheridge of Swinburne, together with the proofs for establishing the fact, was the existâ€" ence of another, the only true heir of the barony _ of Swinburne, before _ whose elaims all others must shrivel up as stubâ€" ble before the flame," sai dthe colonel, solemnly. _ "Pray proceed, sir; tell me what is in your power to divulge, and the terms of your silence," said Rose, sareastically. * Iam not surprised. my heart prophesied," within herself. "You believe what I eridge ?" . "Yes, I believe it; i trnorougaly beâ€" lieve it. Now, then, tell ine the name of this rightful heir," said HMose, earnestly. "Very well; then tell m the terms npâ€" on which you will forever close your lips upon the subject of this supposed heir," said Rose, with a sarcasm so fine as to escape the apprehension of the obtuse intellect of Colonel Hastings. _‘Nay, Lady Etheridge; the name of that heir is a secret ta:, I dare not conâ€" fide, even to yourself, as yeu‘ "Listen, then, Lady Etheridge â€"â€" for Lady Etheridge you may remain to the end of your life, it you list. More than twelve months since, you were acquaintâ€" ed with my son, Mr. Albert Hastingsâ€"" "Nay, I never knew Mr. Albert Hastâ€" ings," replied Rose, haughtily. "Very well, then; let that pass. More than a year ago you knew a person callâ€" ing himself William Lovel," _________ "A traitor, who had no right to the name that he assumed." "Albert Hastings loves you, loves you only, has loved you ever!" said Colonel Hastings, earnestly. "You are wandering from the point, «ir. Mr. Albert Hastings‘ sentiments can be of no importance whatever to me. That which I would learn from you is thisâ€"what are the terms upon which you propose to suppress the existence of the true heir of Swinburne?" inquired Rose, coldly. "I will suppress the existence of the real heir of Swinburne, and leave you in possession of your fictitious rank and wealth _ upon the conditions _ that you will _ at once _ break off your impending marriage with the Duke of Beresleigh, and contract your hand to your first lover, my son, Mr. Albert Hastings," said the old genâ€" tleman, firmly,. "Never!" exclaimed Rose, with impasâ€" sioned emphasis, "Better any suffering than the sin of keeping the rightful heir out of the estate. _ Better any fate than the folly of joining my life with that of a doublyâ€"died traitor as Albert Hastings has proved himself to be. To al lof this I have one practical reply to make. _ I will immediately request the presence of the Duke of Beresleigh here, and you shall repeat in his presence all that you have related to me," said Rose, pulling the bellâ€"rope. _ "Lady Etheridge, you are excited; calm yourself, pause, reflect," exclaimed Colonial Hastings ,anxiously. _ "Take my compliments to the Duke of Beresleigh, and say that 1 requost his grace to join us here." The door opened and a footman apâ€" peared. o "Lady Etheridge, you are mad! Counâ€" termand your order before it is too late," exclaimed the Coloncl, in an exâ€" cited whisper, But the servant had already bowed and withdrawn from the room, while the face of Lady Etheridge betrayed ro signs of relenting . "Nay, then, if you will be so frantic, I shall withdraw; yet I beseech you he careful; take time to reflect; do not commit yourself rashiy; take time to weigh consequences, and, if you should come to a different decision, a note diâ€" rected to my town house will always find me. Be cautious not to betray your own interests, and I on my part, shall be careful to guard this secret for yet a few days longer." a man," said Rozo, excitedly. The duke stood still and looked at her in amazement, for a woinout. and then leading hor to a seat ho said: â€""No, he has run away. He came hithâ€" er to intimidate a woman, not to face a man," said Rogo, excitedly. _ _ _ Rose was walking excitelly up and down the floor. “]';‘câ€")o-t;t':ps' were now heard approackâ€" ing, and the colonel, bowing deeply, hastâ€" ily withdrew. \ _‘He had scarcely made his escape when the Duke of Beresleigh entered. The duke entered, looking around, and saying : "I thought to have found Colonel Hastings here." ty stato, Lady Eth It is just what thought RBose, :..i.'bréivvie the question, dearest Ros2, and tell me what reason, beyond your ownt fancy, you have for, saying so." â€""First, it is as my heart prophesied, dear George, and I am not the heiress of Swinburne." + Aiph t erinicy BC1 Rhice . an tb ie 2 4yA ‘ "The old man who had just left uno‘ has said so. _ He declares that when 3@ attended my late father in his last houts the baron confided to him the secret of . the existence of an heir to the barony and castle of Swinburne, together with every proof necessary to establish his rights. Colonel Hastings offered to supâ€" press these facts and destroy the proofs if 1 would marry his son, and threatenâ€" ed to produce the heir and establish his rights by the proofs in bis possession, if I refused." "Sit down and compose yourself, dearâ€" est Rose, and tell me calmly what has ogcurred." > § "1 requested him to say to your grace all that he had said to me, and I raug and sent a message requesting you to join us, whereupon Colonel Hastings hur» ried away." "No, he cannot be compelled to give the name, or to produce tge heir or the proofs even if such an heir and such proofs exist, which, T repeat, I do not believe. Your present policy _ is that which a great statesman has termed ‘masterly inactivity‘ If such an heir exists, let Colonel Hastings bring â€" him forward and prove his claims to the barâ€" ony of Swinburne, when you will at once yield up your possessions. I need _ not repeat to you that no change in _ youf fortunes can work any change in . my feelings or purposes toward you. You @re, under all cireumstances and vicissiâ€" tudes, my promised wife, the future Duchess of Beresleigh." "And what do you. think of this strangeâ€" communication, love?" inquired the duke, smiling. F P > J "And you, dearest, you replied to him as he deserved ?" "And 1 believe it to be essentiaily false! â€" This man has probably heard of your morbid forebodings upon the suh ject of your inheritance, which is no *câ€" eret to your friends, and he has sought to practice upon your credulity for his own purposes. _ That is all." "But 1 credit this story, though 1 canâ€" not trust him. _ And, believing the siory as I do, pray teli me what I must do?" "Nothing, simply nothing." ‘Is there no way of compelling him to produce the heir and proofs of which he speaks ?" "It confirms the prophetf@feelings of my heart; 1 feel that it must be true," replied Rose, gravely, ‘No way in the world that 1 know, unless you know the name of that heir." "Can he not be compelled to divuige the name*" With a beaming smile Rose placed her hand in his, and they went forth togeâ€" ther to join the duchess at dinner, who was curious to know the nature of (@lonel Hastings‘ communication _ to Lady Etheridge. When made acquainted with the subject matter of the converâ€" sation, her grace smiled sarcastically at what she also considered only as the empty threat of a weak and designing old man. es _ Always Dodging Death and Have a Severe Struggle for a Living. "I was sitting at my window the other day," said a bird lover, "while balf a dozen sparrows were picking furiously and savagely crowding one another round _ And in the course of the same day, the fourtcenth of the ensuing month was fixed for the marriage. |__ _ EP Poy c Pn ue a bit of bread about the size of a boy‘s marble. They were hungry. 1 knew that by the way they pushed and shoved and elbowed one another around _ the bread and by the disputes and side fights that were constantly taking place. "A carriage rolled by in the streets. In an instant every bird took wing and flew up to the branches of a tree overâ€" head. After the carriage had gone by they came back, but had hardly got a bite a piece when a boy appeared, and away they flew again. Then a man, next a woman, after her a dog, and after the dog a delivery wagon scared them off, so that ere the crumb disappeared the birds at least a dozen times were frightâ€" ened up into the tree, to come back and be scared off again. "The incident set me to musing over the vicissitudes of nature‘s life and the comforts men enjoy, but do not appreâ€" ciate. Suppose that all the boarders of a first class house had to rush away from the table and run into the third storey half a dozen times duri:g the dinâ€" ner, to keep from being killed, do you think they would, have much appetite? Sunpose you had‘ to *bo‘t out of your room into the street a hundred times a day to save your life, wouldn‘t living become a burden Yet the birds are boltâ€" ing all day long, every day in the year, and all their lives, from real or imaginary danger, for the one is as bad as the other. e ve "Suppose when we got up in the mornâ€" ing in a room without a fire we had to: go out and work for our breakfast beâ€" fore we got any, then find another job to pay for dinner and a third before we could eat supper; suppose that all our victuals were cold, that after hustling all day and not getting enough to eat we had to roost under the eaves of a house or under somebody‘s porch, and watch for cats all night longâ€"wouldn‘t men go and jump in the river rather than worry with such a life? Yet that is the bird‘s life in winter. In summer food is abundant, the temperature is pleasant and the birds seem happy in spite of their constant danger from boys and stones and guns by day and from cats and owls at night. Maybe birds have no memory for dangers past. If a man runs the risk of being killed by falling off a street car all his acquaintances have to listen to the story at intervals for weeks, but a bird dodges death every ten minâ€" utes through the day, then mounts & 'twig and sings as cheerily as though there were not a stone nor a gun in the world. No regret for the past, no foreâ€" boding for the future, no worry about rent or taxes or coal bills; no pantry and no fear that anything will spoil in k inoâ€"who wouldn‘t like to be a bird ?â€"x of doctors to Down at Eufaula last week a man was given a $10 fine and thirty days in jail for murder, which is certainly a whole rot cheaper and less bther than the MUarry Thaw method of getting a gang of doctors to prove < with a fair chance of madhouse.â€"â€"Broken A Louis Globeâ€"Democrat BIRDS HAVE A HARD TIME. Cheaper Than in New York. S (To be continued) @ & 1 getting a gang noticnal insanity. ],Mll"" sent to the row, 1. T. Ledcer. scnppmck Many People Weaken Their Systems by Dosing With Purgative Medicines. be made rich, red and pureâ€"purgaâ€" tives cannot do this. _ What is needed is a tonic, and the best tonic _ mediâ€" cal science â€" has yet devised is Dr. Williams‘. Pink Pills. Every dose of this â€" medicine â€" actually m{es ne'.i _rich _ blood, and this new _ blood strengthens every organ . and â€" every part of the body. That is why these pills banish . pimples and unsightly skin eruptions. That is why they eure headaches, backaches, _ theuâ€" matism, â€" neuralgia. and a host _ of other troubles that come from _ poor watery blood. That is why the men and _ women who use Dr. Williams‘ \Pink Pills eat well and sleep well and feel active _ and strong. _ Miss Mabel Synnott, Lisle, Ont., says: "I was pale and weak and suffered . greetly from headaches, and I found nothing i to help me until 1 began taking . Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills. These have comâ€" 3 pletely restored my health and I bless the day I began taking them.l" ¢ A spring medicine is a necessity. Nature demands it as an aid to en: riching the blood and carrying _ off the impurities that have accumulatâ€" ed during the indoor life of the winâ€" ter months. _ Thousands of people reâ€" cognizing the necessity for a i medlcing dose themuiveo with .g:rx griping purgatives. This is a misâ€" rake. . Ask any doctor and he will tell you that the use of purgative medicines weaken the system . and eannot possibly cure disease. In the spring the system needs building upâ€" purgatives weaken. _ The blood should "Greaset" Peon is as Fond of Music as His Master. The Mexican is a lover of music. It is nothing strange to hear a "greaser" peon whistling selections from the latest opâ€" eras. Music to be popular in Mexico must be such as is or can be understood by the people, whose taste in this direcâ€" tion is the direct â€"result of Spanish teachings. Mexico boasts of a number of good composers and the soâ€"called folk songs are very numerous and in many instances pleasing even to foreigners. Dance music is preferred by the masses and this is almost universal, if the naâ€" tional dances peculiar to the different sections of this country are accepted. ho pul Can? Aealatst ~hatintntrats in â€"Rhtargiint But be sure you get the genuine Pills, with the full name, "Dr. Wilâ€" liams‘ Pink Pills â€" for Pale Poople" on the wrapper around cach boxâ€"all other soâ€"called pink pills are fraudulent imitatighs. Sold by medicine dealers or by maifat 50 cents a box or six boxes for $2.50 from The Dr. Williams‘ Mediâ€" cine Co., Brockville, Ont. Consul W. W. Canada, of Vera Cruz, writes concerning the sale of musical and other instruments in Mexico as follows: "There are two music dealers in Vera Cruz. In all the larger towns throughâ€" out the interior musical instruments may be purehased, but there are few who make this a special business; it is genâ€" erally cBnducted in combination . with other goods. Mexico City is the central point ni this country for music dealers. This consular district offers a splendid field for the sale of talking machines, having a population of not leas than 3,â€" 000,000, which number is increasing daily. It must not be supposed that the machines are unknown, but they have never been put before the public sysâ€" tematically. It is extremely doubtful if an old established business house here could be induced to send in an order, pay for the same at the place of shipment, take all shipping and packing risks, pay duties and take its chances on wrong deâ€" clarations of merchandise on consular manifest, usually resulting in fines and double duties, and finally spend from lfour to seven days in clearing the goods from the custom house, on the unsupâ€" ported statement of the manufacturer in his cireulars. "It has repeatediy been said that the American manufacturer who desires to cultivate trade with this country must do so in a systematic and thorough manâ€" ner with a representative. After the manufacturer has established the busiâ€" ness at this port he could proceed to another town, and so the entire field could be covered, and it is a large one.‘ Lanterns, Lamps and Candies Have an Interesting History. The sconce and the lantern were in general use throughout the middle ages. The sconce was a light, covered and guarded from the wind, lifted down by a handle and distinet from the lantern, serving somewhat the same purpose, but hung by a chain. _ _ o f Ianterns in the thirteenth century were made of gold, silver, copper or iron, according to the means of the owner. The light in the latter was shielded from the wind by thin sheets of horn. Lanâ€" tern making was an important industry in Paris. Noblemen and rich merchants took to having luxurious little travelling equipâ€" ments made for them, and among these were travelling candlesticks and washâ€" basins in fine enameled work, the secret of which is now lost. The custom of having servants carry flambeaux at festivals also became genâ€" eral about this time, and a strange and tragic indicent is connected with this fashion. At a ball given by Charles VL A SPRING DANGER. MEXICOQ LIK®ES PHONOGRAPHS. LIGHTS OF OLDEN TIMES. ONTARIO ARCHIVES j TORONTO Magic lanterns were invented in the time of King Francis I. A device on & somewhat similar plan was used as a sign before shop doors to attract custom. the torches carried by some careless serâ€" vants came too near the headdresses of certain persons dressed as savages, and set them on fire. The unfortunate guests were burned to death, and the king at the sight lost his reason, a madness which had a serious effect on the history of France. Lamps fell into disfavor at the beginâ€" ning of the seventeenth century and were only used by the poor and in passâ€" ages and in stables where the smoke could evaporate and a great deal of light was needed. Cundles had reached their perfection and candlesticks their most exugisite form. ‘ A candlestick of erystal given by Lovuis XI. to La Valâ€" liere is still in existence, and it was at this time also that the crystal pendants came into fashion. Street illumination was not seriously attempted in Paris until about the midâ€" die of the seventeenth century. In the first years of that notable century the streets of Paris were dark. The rick were escorted by lackeys bearing torches, the middleâ€"class folks picked their way, lantern in hand, whifie the poor slhd along, feeling their way by the walls. In his edict of September,, 1667, iaeâ€"| Are we not more TNan NNUMJ 6*""°° "_ king provided that candles enclosed in | Oh, sweet the lesson of the hour» a cage of glass should be hung by cords ‘ At Easter time." ;f)utlh: }t.lenwht lOf lorie dor stomrey ons | It was the venerable Rev. Dr. Hen one l,t el::eext:::! ‘or‘e th. Heviny * €. McCook, the pastor of 'dw. Tl“l-!. on i * » At the sound of a be?l,m.tn::kmlbdyd l: | nacle iPresbyterian Church of Philadelâ€" walschman, they were lighted. phia, who wrote: aris was, however, considerably in !'“\\‘h A s # A at if, at last, this mortal da :fii‘:m:f ‘;:h}:o‘:::: l‘z::h;o'ofld at ’ Shall dim and darken into nigzt'.! (Pout in public places, sallin gy'o:'éo?: ‘ And death with icy hands will lay lugubrious tones: _“Gelrlilemen.} _l_igit!"i 98 ‘l'i‘i:‘:“oweet flowers : tkis: Setal The origin of the phrase, "holding a candle to you," is somewhat doubtful, but some authorities trace it to the fact that as the small light stand had not been devised anyone who desired, to read in bed had to have a servant stand beâ€" side him to hold the candle. One can not imagine that reading in bed under these circumstances would be very enâ€" joyable, certainly not to one who has been accustomed to solitude and a gas jet easily turned on of off, but there is everything in habit.â€"Gas Logic. Babies do not cry for the fun of it | nor is it always because they ml hungry, &s so many young mothers ; think. _ Nine times out of ten baby‘s ‘ cry indicates _ that his little stomach is iut of order. _ Mothers will find instant relief for their suifering little ones in Baby‘s Own Tablets. _ A few | doses will cure the most Obstinate | cases of constipation, indigestion ol! vomiting, and a Tablet fiven now | ani then to the well child will keep! it well. _ Mrs. Mary Pollock, Gawas, | Ont., says: "Baby‘s Own _ Tablets | have been a great â€" benefit to my | baby. _ They have made him _ happy, ; aceful ang contented, when before g: used to cry all the time. 1 have more comfort with him since giving him the Tablets than I ever had be: fore. â€" He now sits and plays and laughs while I do my work. What greater praise can I give Baby‘s Own Tablets." For sale at drugguh â€" 0t ( It is the utm:;ghem that makes the ?lky look blue an the moon yellow. If Portable Printing Outfit for the Benefit of Sightless People. An appartus of widespread importance to the bknd has been invented by Mr. Ernest Vaughan, whereby the blind can correspond freely, either among themselves or with their : " Ees CD CC CAnil_tad ‘Tha davice. EPBRCBTT MR CCCE is‘ handled. This notch fits into grooves proâ€" vided in the small rack, so that the charâ€" acters may be stood vertically in the rack to form words, one by one from left to right. When the rack has been thus filled, owâ€" ing to its working upOn & hinge, and by slightly raising it, the sheet of paper can be inserted in position betweeen guides beneath. ‘The rack is then drapped down into position, l;i mail at 25 cents a Dr. Williams‘ Medicine 4 udiins ofi M in sctihcids s 2 and by a slight pressure the characters are embossed upou the paper beneath. If a copy of the communication is desired, a sheet of paper is placed upon the uppermost comâ€" position of letters, and by a alight pressure the duplicate or copy is thus procured. The amerator can correct his composition line by ;\.;:u&‘ In this instance, the type having the Braille letter upmost, the resultant printâ€" ing is in Roman characters, #o that the orâ€" dinary cation. ORITCTY In corresponding with a blind friend the perator sets the characters with the Braile letters downward. In the case of an orâ€" dinary persons desiring to write to a blind friend, the characters are set with the Roâ€" man letters uppermost, so that they can be line, and effect any geen by the operator. The resultant impresâ€" sion below is of course in Braille, and the recipient can readily read the missive from left to right by the touch. Local Option at the South. , "Can help arise from a man wh (Washington Herald.) ‘ I shall never see Him again. The tm::‘u:oe n::vmt at (h:;wh to ° charactori y such persistence intellâ€" h Tuice that it cannot bp placed in that cateâ€" But al(izll;)w crept up from the gory of spasmodic reforms which at times MHB, § A stir the mercurial people of that section to Dawn came to the morning a) frenzied enthusiasm. Nearly every state on And a endden grace of the ten the other &?:.:tc&hebf'm‘“ has been perâ€" f face ceptibly y movement. . in | * fax Kentucky the only counties that have not ‘()f the woman waiting there adopted local option are those in which large For lo! in the sunlit gardon gi.t.tes ::tsk'nrd and in Qflu'l-l: :llht Je Stood the Master! _ Kingly s ng up in a most determ ashion. ras i AP In‘ Fexas quite as large a proportion of ».He was just the same, for He : counties has swung into the local option | name, & moveemnt as in Kentucky. About the same | _ And quietly told HWis will. ?Mt.:io:al exists lnhmm . South Caroâ€" | ina spensary w recently been t n modified, but not on the side of m'.,._ "Rabboni!" Only one word she onts of temperance. ‘Tennessee is just now |,_ But ber beart was in the er; the theater of determined activity against | There He stood, her Christ! and the easy public drinking place. \ sufficed, we could ascend to an elevation of forty miles above the earth‘s surface we should see that the moon is a brilliant white, while the sky would be black, with the stars shining as brightly in the daytime as at night. Furthermore, as a most pictureeque feature of the spectacle, we ghould take notice that some of the stars are red, others blue, vct others violet, and still others green in color. Of course all of the stars (if we har tho planets of our system) are Imming sunre and the hues they wear depond upon their temâ€" What Makes the Sky Blue. with : HELPS THE BLIND. CRYING BABIFS. can easily read the communi compartments, one ning the type charâ€" rinting is to be acâ€" er a small empty design, having the end and the corresâ€" the other. At the . small notch, by box from The Co., Brockville | At Easter time, oh, who can doubt | That He who calls the violets out; | of their brown graves beneath the rime, | Will wake us. too, in his good time? Are we not more than many flowers* Oh, sweet the lesson of the hour» At Easter time." i It was the venerable Rev. Dr. Henry C. McCook, the pastor of the Taberâ€" | nacle iresbyterian Church of Philadel» phia, who wrote: Joy is the keynote of the Easter poetâ€" ry. ‘The cheerful strains of glad rejoicâ€" ing mark the typical Easter poem like the following by Elizabeth Flint Merrill: "Lo from the tomb Ere the new day mounts the skies Shall the Son of God arise! Now he bursts Death‘s strong prison! Christ, the Lord, is risen! risen! With white angel guards attended, Choirs of holy seraphs «plendid! Earth with all her myriad voices (On this blessed morn rejoices Now from death the\otil: is ta‘enm, Lord of Life, our Christ, doth reign!" The hope of immeortality, which is filnd message of returning epring, cen well sung by May Riley Smith ‘The Easter morn shall break away, The blackest shades that pall our sight, And life shall wake divinely bright, And hold through heaven an endless 4 round , Han‘s appetite that holds thee bound Man‘s loathsome tomb of foul decay Be this thy resurrection day." Man slothful ease that wraps thee The person who loses his secular, seliâ€" ish life, the Easter poets like to reming us, finds the inward sEiritud and eternal life as presaged in the words of Christ (never more appropriately remembered than at Easter time): * It was dark to Mary of As she stole from her m And sped away ere the break of day To the place of the rich man‘s tomb. It was dl.:rk as night in her mournful soul, The hope of her life had fled; For «in had won, and the deed was done, And the Son of God was dead. "He that findeth his life shall lose it ; unrd he who loseth his life for My sake shall find it." Apropos of this beautiful snggestion is the prayerâ€"poem of Phillips Brooks, in which he says: s "0 risen Christ, O Easter flowers! How dear Thy grace has grown! From East to West with loving power, Muke ail the world thine own. And make our hearts Thy gamdens, bloom. In them, dear Lord. and be Their life of life, till life gives room, To immortality." Cheer for the patient toiler comes in the Easter aspirations, voiced by Jessie MacGregor Shaw: "A brother to the angels fair, What sat within and smiled; With Easter breaking overhead, Is he who walks ‘mid thorn and care, To give the world its only prayer _ This was the end, then, after all» The power of the Christ to save, And sins forgiven, and hopes of heaven, All buried in Jesus‘ grave! With the old, sad shame in hber lovely eyes, In her heart the old dull pain; "(Clan help arise from a man who dies? I shall never see Him again." Pour sacred oil on pillowing rock, #) sons of Labor‘s great estate Let Bethel‘s sleep in thorn and frond‘ As you save slept, near heaven‘s gate. But a glow crept up from the purple hills, t : Dawn came to the morning air, And a endden grace of the tearâ€"stained "Rabboni!" Only one word she said, But ber heart was in the ery, There He stood, her Christ! and the sight sufficed, Although she had seen Him die. And for Mary of Magdala, throuch the Is the Christ alive? Let us fee! it, thenâ€" The rapture, the joy, the thrill! No sorrowful years or despairing tears, He lives! and is mighty still. We, too, whom the Master _ colls by name, Have nothing to do with night; Let us lift our eyes to the Fastern And live in the endless light! _ _ j gower e Of that resurrection day, All the dark and the night, â€" blight. Had for ever passed away! fiv/l&g SPNSEY homE And A. Judson Rich says "The weal truth in resurrection. Is not dead matter newly born; But life arising toward perfection, A little nobler each new morn." To make of earth a house of bread. way." dead EASTER POETRY. spoke her the and