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w TE D (0) VIN LINIMENT ELV 1 ow and awo $50 by day ‘he most wonder‘u eown. Sold by drig rd‘s Sanitary Loteon. drug gote. Pigeons fr asd evary form wOMEN gbou GUARANTEED N‘S NAME ] YUOS aweeney i thromt a ) .oused hl"a "Yes, 1 will do so, but dowt trounte yourselft about details, dear. Augusta, believe me, everything will go on in the best posiible order. 1 came to see if you were awake, and tell you that I _ shall bring you up some tea and toast and that you must take it." "Dearest Letty, don‘t ask me, when 1 cannot, How is ghnll, and where is she." "L made her take eomething and go to . rest. She is asleep now." "lGiod bless her. And now, Letty, bid me goodâ€"night, and lé6t me rest; rest is my only medicine." With a deep sigh Letty stooped down and kissed her eister and once mowe withdrew from the room. And still she lay there in that dark yoom, with her hands locked above her head. listening to the sounds _ of the household preparing to retire to bed. By midnight the house was perfectly still. The family were all asleep. And she arose and threw on a white _ drezsing gown, and glided softly down the stairs, pausing to listen. She reached the hall i the first floor; all was quiet; no mund was heard but the subdued voices | rest, f y i the watchers i:etl:.ohont cl;amber. & * x # « \ whe went to t r of the bac Foke hamber â€"cautiousty opened it and enter | guay geprived her of her" mother" that d. At lastâ€"at laet she was alone with day. And she knelt and wept by that‘ "‘,"_‘1"‘“" g bed as if her heart must break. _ Nor: There was & WaXx ::rr left burning | could she be got out of the room until m the hearth. She t it “P.."d..p' Mr. Lovel took her up in his arms nnd‘ woached the bed, and threw its N&Dt | carried her, fainting, away. She grieved wer the form extended there. She ;:6 as one who would not be comforted, verently uncovered the ",“‘"'d 8*z°0 | almost resenting the efforts of her ipon itâ€"â€"whiteâ€" coldâ€"motioniess â€"â€" °<~ | friends to soothe her, erying, distractâ€" pn---mnh-snrâ€"dead. ._ | edly: A Dead? Perhaps not. Of extreme despait | "I know what you are going to sayâ€" i sometimes born a mad hopeâ€"M@4 | Peath is the common lotâ€"it is the form its birth. Perhaps, after @ll, D6 | Cord‘s willâ€"we must submit. It is useâ€" might not be deadâ€"who knew * She had | toss and sinful to repine. They are in heard of people given up for dead 1yiD¢ | heayen‘ Oh, I know it all, and I know in a trance and recovering to live mANUY | it is true. _ Haven‘t I said the same years, Why might it not be so with | thing a hundred times to other mournâ€" him* What if after all he were only iN | ors, and do not I say it now to myself? a trance. . |\ Only it does not stop my heart from She sat down her taper and again apâ€" \bleeding." She sat down her taper and again apâ€" proached the body. You would _ have thought her crazed had you seen her at work. with her pale still face, and her gleaming eyes and infully attentive air, as she ran her {:nd in his bosom and placed it on his heart, and bent her un & 6 .. Y amtant have COZNC 2 She dropped her head upon that bosom, that loved besom that in life had so tenâ€" derly sheltered and cherished herâ€"now unresponsive, gilent, senseless. She sank upon the bed and clasped that cold form to her heart and wept. They were bless »d tears; they loosened the tight ard burning cineture around her brain; they relieved while they exhausted her. She could weep no more, but she crept closer to that dear formâ€"dearer, oh. yes! far dearet, though the soul had fled. than all the living . world beside. Her daughter? Yes she had loved Maud with all a mother‘s tenderness. But long years before Maud had lived, ever «ince her own childhood. all her thoughts and affections had centered apon this being : her life had been identified with the life now {led, and there was nothing in the wide world without so near, 60 dear, as this cold clay. She crept closer to that loved form. She laid her face and lips against . that dAearest face. She drew that stiffening arm over her neck and resigned herself to rest. A feeling of exhaustion, _ of benign repose and _ content, was ' BE . Lexsce smm We LDis COT0 CINZ® <he crept closer to that loved form. | She laid her face and lips against that ‘ learest face. She drew that stiffening arm over her neek and resigned herself to reat. A feeling of exhaustion, of benign repose and _ content, was stealing over her senses. She was really cold, prostrated, and breathing fitfully; hut she did not know it, for a heavenly dream was brightening around her, the boundaries of the room seemed lost in light. and over her stood a shining form, { in whose allâ€"glorious countenance she recognized the familiar face of her beâ€" loved. He held out his arms to receive her: she raised herself to moet him, her soul filled with joy. Farly in the morning the upholsterers and undertakers arrived at the Hall. (Great preparations were on foot for the funeral. The illustrious statesman might not be laid in his last resting place W th the Christian simplicity that attends the burial of other men. ‘The officials comâ€" menced operations, and made all arrangeâ€" ments with quietness and celerity. The saloon was speedily prepared and decorâ€" ated for the solemnity of lying in state. And when all was ready they went in grave procession up the stairs, and preâ€" ceded by Mr. Lovel and Falconer, entered the room of death. But there a vision met their eyes that rebuked all the vain show, and touched the human hearts in their bosoms! Fot Lave ow the bed beside the dead, with "______. CeGuvcummmacancnnn t ) reat, A 16e enign repose tcaling over he old, prostrated ut she did not ght her crazed had you seen her at . with her pale still face, and her ming eyes and rinfnl\y attentive as she ran her hand in his bosom placed it on his heart, and bent her to his closed lips. You might have isht her crazed, but she was not. well she knew when the trial was El 00 CE hawt feorm was dend hat the cold, hard form v3bt tenderness. But long had lived, ever aince all her thoughts and yed pon this being@: more, but she crept formâ€"dearer, oh. ugh the soul had ving world beside. she had loved Maud her face hidden on his cold bosom, lay his faithfv! wifeâ€"so still they thought she slept. Mr. Lovel approached in awe to wake her. but paused a moment to contemplate this sorrowful picture of love and death. She lay beside him with her arms around him, one arm under his shoulders, the other over his breast, her head upon his bosom with her face downâ€" ward, and her rich black hair flowing, scarfâ€"like, across his chest. Mr. Lovel stopped and gently and reâ€" spectfully accosted her. She did not reply. He spoke again, more earnestly and. closer to her ear. ‘ She gave no sign of consciousness. He then, with reverential tenderness, took her hand, started, looked at !wr anxiously, raised her bastily, turning that beautiful, pale face up to the light. Augusta was dead! But, oh, how conâ€" tent, how "Godâ€"satisfied" in death! The passing spirit had set its seal upon the smooth, serene brow, and the calmlyâ€" closed lips. The expression of her face was a new revelation of the heavenly rest. Poor Maud! it seemed a eruel stroke | that deprived her of her mother thatl day. And she knelt and wept by thntl bed as if her heart must break. _ Nor could she be got out of the room until | Mr. Lovel took her up in his arms and‘ carried her, fainting, away. She grieved as one who would not be comforted,‘ almost resenting _ the â€" efforts . of her’ friends to soothe her, erying, distractâ€"| ediy : | After this, Letty sent everyone away | lfrom her room, and took the exclusive eare of Maud upon herself. And in anâ€" other lell of her tempest of grief the poor girl said: "My tears will force their way, dear Lettyâ€"but, oh! don‘t you know that I feel it is serfish to wish her back to this lonesome world?â€"too lonesome for her, now he has left it! For, oh! Letty, I know very well that not even I, her only child, could have filled the aching void in | her heart and life left by his loss. I lknow he was her all in all years before i ever saw the light, and years on years [ufter I wes lost. I know that 1 was only a brief episode in her life, and he | was its whole history. They lived and Ldiml togetherâ€"they are united in the | land of the blest. And it seems to me | so wellâ€"onlyâ€"I cannotâ€"helpâ€"" Mr. Lovel expostalated with her, told her she was rebellious to Heaven, ete. "Don‘t lecture me, Uncle Lovel. _ Our Saviour never did soâ€"Jesus never reâ€" buked Mary and Martha for weeping over their dead brother. No, indeed, he wept with them. The Lord will pity me also. Only leave me alone in peace and I will try to be quiet, and the Lord will hefp me." Wme C ANICsUt) As f.r Letty, she essayed no vain, | firmiy. preparning 10 50/ â€" 1 commonplace words of consolation. She | "Mr. Barton, I presume; pray be merely held the maiden in her arms and | seated, sir." let her sob as much as she pleased upon | | But he met her half way, smiling cordâ€" her sympathizing bosom, undisturbed by ‘iully, confidently holding out his hand, s anything but a soothing caress. And |and saying "Letty" in a tone that made thus Letty comforted the orphan. Umr !'urgs»l he.r reserve and caution, and \ After all, the funcral was a very quiet | meet him as if they had parted but yesâ€" | one. Daniel Hunter and Augusta were | terday, except that she exelaimed : { intorred together in the family buriat | ‘Oh, ..!tm-ph Jcoseph Barton, is it real ground at Howlet Hall. A mepument 11"'_,-““"' PR 4)# L 9k of the simplest form of architectureâ€"an As sure as yoi live, it is I, Letty, obelisk of white marbleâ€"marks | their he said, heartily shaking both her hands | grave. at once, laughing to conceal th_e tears After the funeral the will of Daniel ;'" l“," f:"‘m‘.""f‘ talkiung & hetle m’coh'er- |\ Hunter was opened and read. It was "',"fl«‘j Don‘t you. P is 3e Iâ€"â€"don‘t You | found that he left the whole of his real | know me,. I knew you at once ~â€"sh'0uld estate and personal property to his wife, ‘ have known you if Td met SOU at Nook: Augusta, and constituted her the sole ‘k“.. t w Cape'(,onst Colouy . »» executrix of the will. But the widow\ hh‘hould you. no“â€"â€"n.ml I so changed. had survived her husband only a few (.hfmged. Why, you‘re not changed the hours, and had died Infestate...Conse: | least in the world. I don‘t see the shgh’t- quently. Maud Hunter, who had, within ‘(‘!‘-.tr(‘hfl:lge}:‘}‘\u]d tats' “Lctl'.‘;d ‘“?J‘e&; lfl“ | a few days past, attained her majority, *wi:nl::n,,,'t . § ';]o ".' ‘f l“ (‘P‘? * kepâ€" | was now the sole heiress and actual misâ€" t f lt h . * "{‘ r""e' f; ‘l' nov‘,'?,': ® 5 | tress of Howlet Hall. Mr. and Mrs. 1hu| T-S ol(\o.nsl fl""j" C ‘l. lA: );l de RMTC | Lovel invited their young relative mlhoung her hands tightly an rawig | ith them and spend a _ few | er toward him and trying to look into l ':::::‘ f(‘:r‘ change of air and scene, At | her dear, familiar eyes. _ which, . halfâ€" | | the parsonage. But no persuasions could \k‘gfll'lnzl ai:d. halfâ€"mortified, she turned induce the orphan to leave the home | “I')(;n't.ytulgk' vonsense to Ine at. Wy ; | rendered so sacred by the recent loss of | age." y * | her parents. "There, 1 knew itâ€"the. same scoffer | _ Letty Hunter, therefore, remained to | ;pa; she ever was, and she preten‘dw . keep her company and to superintend | sio‘s changed!" * ® ‘ TL LCE elermmensantecrcmmasess | | . L004 1 0n We cun. eb en# T nsowk _â€"fodfad" gush of tears â€"wellâ€"onlyâ€"I cannotâ€"helpâ€"" I fer words were arrested by another } eryone away the exclusive And in anâ€" of grief the _ Faleoner was summoned to Washing: \ton to assist in the setting up of his statue. He took a reluctant leave of | his betrothed, and, with the approbation | of Mr. Lovel, promised to return as soon ‘\ as his errand was concluded and p%end \ the spring and summer at Howlet all. CHAPTER XXXHL And now I have to record one of those unexpected, happy events that seem so much like blind accident. e | q d C rtâ€" | O *Eh* Yes I used to â€"| quaintance, he "I never seâ€" | said Mand. in Meanwhi ow | throbbing me l her of spe mâ€" | the landing If ? | ustrades, ¢ om ' "Now, L able. little the rearrangement house It was about a month after the death of Daniel Hurter and Augusta. _ The young spring was smiling over the earth, awakening vegetation. The skies were blue, the brezes soft, the fields and forâ€" ests clothed with tender verdure, the fruit trees all in blossom, the gardens fragrant with flowers, and groves musiâ€" cal with birds. The sad heart of the orâ€" phan felt the influence and _ trembled | with the budding of its own new life and | joy. Within the hall all was beautiful | order and comfort. One morning Letty and Maud sat at i needleâ€"work in the boudoir of the latâ€" ‘ ter. Falconer, who had returned the day previous,. read to them from a volâ€" ume of Wordsworth. A servant entered with a card on a salver, which | he handed to his mistress. Maud examined it with a puzzled look. "‘«Joseph Barton. Iowa City.!‘ I don‘t know him at allâ€"I never heard of him before. I‘m sure." But Letty jumped from her seat, went red and pale, and sat down again. "‘@Joseph Barton?" Who did he ask for. Thomas?" inquired Maud, still perâ€" plexing herself over the card. "For you, ma‘amâ€"for Miss Hunter." "He must be some old friend of my father‘s. Thomas,. return to the gentleâ€" \ man, and say that I will be down in a few minutes.‘ uis‘ L to "Â¥you: He ds said Maud. "That is my n& every body forget other than Letty "Then this, gen quaintance of y qumer UMIT ATRRIZ! "Then this, gentleman is really an acl quaintance of yoursâ€"you know him*" "Kh* Yesâ€"noâ€"I don‘t Inow â€"that is, I used to knowâ€"an oldâ€"an old ac-! quaintance, as you say," said Letty. | "I never did see her so discomposed," said Maund. as the former left the room. Meanwhile Letty. with her _ heart throbbing in her throat and depriving her of speech and breath, paused upon the landing, and, leaning against the balâ€" ustrades, exhorted herself as follows: "Xow, Letty Hunter, you poOT, miserâ€" able, little forlornly, do, for heaven‘s sake, remember yourself, and don‘t turn a fool at your age don‘tâ€"it would be yhie. o S muaFiake Â¥You â€" have led a to _ ridicuio"s. ECCC sensibla life. and posed yourself up to 1 take care. Think of all old maids you ever| s and entered the drawingâ€"room. And sure enough, there, in the middle of the room, «tood the merchant, _ & stout man of fortyâ€"five, with thick, curlâ€" ing black bair, and a squar®, deeplyâ€" bronzed face, enlivened by a set of yery white teeth and a pair of dark, smiling eyes; not locking as if the years . of ahserce had gone very %mrd with him; the last man in the world, from his apâ€" pearance, to keep his heart and life sacâ€" red to the memory of an early love. _ Letty ‘came in formally, _ freezingly, firmly. preparing to say: _ "Mr. Barton, I presume; pray be | seated. sir." No. no, NO 1 "You know what 1 meantâ€"faded, . faded," said Letty. "Faded! My dear little witch, that‘s a good one!" "True," said Letty. "I never had any bloom to fade. I was a wizen child, a wizzen girl, an«l now, as you say, I‘m a wizzen old witch." "I said nothing of the kind, you slanâ€" derer. But come and sit down. Ain‘t you going to let me have a seat ?" Presently they found themselves seatâ€" ed on the sofa. After a little while Josâ€" eph Barton said: "Do you know what brought me on here, Letty ?" "The railway cars, I suppose." "Really! do you think that? How quick you are at guessing, Letty. But }wbnt purpose, dear Letty, brought me hither, think you?" d "I suppose you are going east to pUIâ€" chase your spring goods." "What in April! My lear Letty, what can you be thinking of? My spring goods were purchased and shipped _ full two months ago. I was in New York in Febâ€" ruary for that purpose. I had just reâ€" turned to lTowa City, and was in the midst of the opening and etoring and, dropped the whole business into _ the hands of my clerks, and posted back as fast as I could comeâ€"and here I am. ‘Now, what brought me? Letty, is there nothing in your heart that answers the , n.o, no! It is I that he wants exclaimed Letty, nervously.‘ He asked for Miss Hunter," name also, though I think rets that I ever had any of the disordered Letty shook her head. I know not how it would be with other women of thirtyâ€" five in Letty‘s cireumstances; . but 1 know ~that she, in the midst of the strongest, the most tenacious ard most rational attachment that ever lived in woman‘s heart, felt thoroughly ashamed of it, and numbered herself among the silly, sentimental old. maids and widows whom she had seen shown up in satire. The truth is, Letty had ever had a keen sense of the ridiculous. And now that . laughing imp in her heart and eyeâ€"with its flaming twoâ€"edged sword of sarcasm, which had been the terror of all tenderâ€" ness of though in others, had, with poeâ€" tic justice, turned upon herself. So her head and heart were at great variance, |nnd she could have cried now with the | discord they made. We are glad, for her sake, that true Joseph Barton had a healthful and harmonious nature, and so far from reproaching, congratulated himâ€" self upon the present event,. "And so you cannot imagine | what brought me here, Letty!" he said. "Well, dearest Letty, I must tell you; I came expressly from lowa for no other purâ€" pose than to see you, and to have a talk with you." s â€""Then, . why in the world, Joseph, didn‘t you come to see me during all these long, long, long years ?" "Did they seem long to you, dear Letty?! So did they to me, indeed." "Thirteen years is an awful chasm in a human life!" "Why, so it is, especially when it opens in the most flowery portion of youth. They don‘t often send felons to the penitentiary so long as that." "It has ruined our two lives. It were preposterous now to renewâ€"to recallâ€"*" "All those blank, dreary years of abâ€" sence! Why, so it would. ‘Let the dead past bury its dead. ‘Let byâ€"gones be byâ€" gones.‘ ‘Forgetting those things that are behind, and reaching forth unto those things that are before; let us press toâ€" ward the mark, for the prize of the high calling.‘" i "Don‘t be irreverent, Joseph." "I‘m not. I think that text as good for this world as for the next. ‘There, Letty, you faithless one, I have given you the three highest inspised authorâ€" ities I know ofâ€"poets, children and holy | writ. Now, no more dismal looking | back. ‘Remember Lot‘s wife"" back. ‘Remember Lot‘s wife." "You have not told me why, in all these years, you never wrote to me." "You sent me awayâ€"why did you never write and give me leave to come back *" "Oh, I thought to do soâ€"I was about to say, aâ€"hundred thousand timesâ€"but something, I know not what, always reâ€" strained me from writing." _ "And I thought, quite a hundred thonâ€" sand times, of returning, but something â€"I knew very well whatâ€" restrained "What was it *~ "The impression married." "Oh, Joseph!" month." "And how did you find it out at last *" ; "By the merest accident, without which I should never have known that you were single, and should not now be here at your side," said Joseph Barton, beâ€" coming very grave as he added: _ "It is connected with the subject _ of yourâ€" shall I say, ourâ€"~great loss, Letty." Her eyes filled at the allusion, and she turned away her head. . "I saw in the hewspaper report of the last hours of Daniel Hunter, among the names of those present at his dying bed, that of his sister, Miss Letitia Hunter! I set out to seek you, Letty, the very lduy that I saw that announcementâ€" and here 1 am." uin Nelfivaliiy it Poor Letity! How her indignation had | burned against those intrusive rt-porters,1 whom she had suspected of noting down everything, from the doctor‘s prescripâ€" tion to the widow‘s and orphan‘s tears, Little had she suspected that they were destined to be the blind instrument | in bringing about the denouement of her own little private, impracticable romance. We must not linger over this reunion. You will have anticipated the result. Joseph Barton was duly presented to the young lady of Howlett Hall, and at her invitation became her guest for several weeks. 4 And in little more than a year from this time, in the beautiful month _ of June, two marriages â€" were celebrated, which will require another chapter to describe. ILLS OF CHILDHOOD, HOW TO CURE THEM. There is no medicine â€" can _ equal Baby‘s Own Tablets for the cure of such ills as babybood and childhood as _ constipation, indigestion, diarâ€" rhoea, colic, simple fever, worms and teething troubles. When â€" you . give this medicine to your little ones you have the guarantee of a government analyst that it is perfectly safe. _ Mrs. Thomas Mills, Ethel, Cnt., says: "I have used Baby‘s Own Tablets for my little boy and find them just the mediâ€" cine needed _ to keep babies heal'tah({. They are easy to take and always do good," _ Sold by medicine dealers or by mail at 25 cents a box from The Dr. Williams Co., Brockville, Ont. There are evidently some â€"big pine . trees left up in the northwestern part of the State. Here is a description of on of them sent by C. W. Edgerly, of Old Town, scaler at the lumber camp of Flavien Choumard, on the _ northwest branch of the St. John River. This pine had three branches and the tree was three feet ten inches through at the butt log. From the tree were takâ€" en but two butt logs, each 16 feet long, and four 1o§s 14 feet long were taken from each of the branches. The top log was 13 inches through at the top. All of these logs were sound white pine. Beâ€" siles these logs one picce 8 feet long at the forks of the branches was left in the woods. Fourteen logs from one pine is certainâ€" 1y a good record and shows that all the monarchs of the forest from which Maine takes her name of the Pine Tree State are not gone yet.â€"Bangor Commercial. Politicianâ€"I don‘t think I‘ll have a bit of trouble getting reâ€"elected. Look how easily 1 won last year when the pe‘c\)‘ple hardly knew me at all. Miss Sweetâ€"But that‘s the whole trouble. The peopleâ€"know you now. and I believed so until last (To be c..qtinlled.) Big Maine Pine ENLIGHTENED. I had that vyou were Joseph." it text as good ie next. ‘There, », I have given d: "It is of yourâ€" Letty." n, and she ort of the amone the vear from RHEUMATISM IN THE BLOOD Cures it by Enriching the Blood With Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills. There is only Ine way * by which rheumatism _ can be cured. _ It must be treated tiLrough the Liood. Liniâ€" ments and outward applieations . may give temporary relief, but they can‘t possibly cure the trouble. _ And while you, are _ experimenting â€" with _ lini ments, the trouble is every day beâ€" coming more â€" firmly rooted in . the system, and more difficult to cure. The poisonous acid that causes rheuâ€" matisim must be driven out of the blood, and you‘ can only do this by making new, rich, red blood through the use of Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pilis. Mr. Charles H. Lumley, of Bickford, | Ont., is one of the bess known farmâ€" * ers in Lambton County. _ About three | / years ago, while Mr. Lumley was enâ€" | gnged in . threshing, he became overâ€" eated, and this was followed by . a severe chill, that started the rheuâ€" matic pains. _ Mr. Lumiey sais: . "I did not think anything of it at the time, as 1 was accustomed to being exposed to all kinds of weather. . As a result I was unable to _ go about next morning. _ I had severe pains in my arms and legs, which I treated : at first with the usual home _ remedies. As these did not help me, and the trouble was growing worse, the famâ€" ily doctor was sent for, but he did not have any better success. He told me I was suffering from a severe atâ€" tack of rheumatism, and there â€"can be no doubt about it, as 1 was conâ€". fined to my home about four months before I was fortunately advised _ to try Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills. 1 sent for a supply, and it was not long before I found they were helping me, and by the time I bad taken a half dozerf boxes the trouble had entirely disappeared. _ In other â€" respects, the pills _ also greatly _ improved _ my health, and 1 never felt better in my life than I have since taking them. [ therefore most cheerfully recommend Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills to other simiâ€" lar sufferers." e . RAT PITNT TCO Dr. â€" Williams‘ Pink â€" Pills make sures of this kind after doctors and ecommon medicines fail, because they actually make new blood. They don‘t cure the mere . «ymptoms. They go right to the root of the trouble _ in the blood. _ That is why this mediâ€" cine cures anacmia. indigestion, neurâ€" algia, palpitation of the heart, and the headaches and backaches brought on by the ailments that fill the lives of so many women with misery. _ Do not take any nills without the full name, "Dr. Williams‘ Pink Pills for Pale People." on the wrapper around the box. _ Sold by all medicine _ dealâ€" ers or by mail at 50 cents a box _or six boxes for $2.50 from The Dr. Wilâ€" 5C o Ap.bantas Co ) Brockvile, Ont. on by the ailments that of so many women with not take any vnills wit name, "Dr. Williams‘ 1 Pale People." on the w the box. _ Sold by all : ers or‘by mail at 50 ce six boxes for $2.50 fron Hams‘ Medicine Co.. Br FASCINATION OF STAMPS And the Hold They Take on a Man Once He Begins to Collect Them. "The rich stamp collector as & rule is the very closest buyer," said a stamp dealer. "This phase of cellecting, indeed, forms one of the chief delights of the rich collector. C uo id u90900 0 ue dn it 63 14.‘ cau i EPOR RARTTCCCCC "A millionaipe collector of this city will roam about the greater part of a day in order to get a desired stamp at a barâ€" gain, and when he succeeds it gives him the greatest satisfaction. Apparently he feels amply compensated . for all his trouble. l . "But the hobby has its advantages, A8 it gives invaluable mental relaxation. When the man of business . is oceupied with his stamps all business problems and worries fly to the winds. "Some time ago a very prominent lawâ€" yer in Chicago walked into the store of a stamp dealer in that city and said: ‘I want to see some <of your stamps.‘ "The stamp dealer, who knew the lawâ€" yer, and was aware that he was an °Xxâ€" tremely busy and hardâ€"worked _ man, replied, ‘Why, you are jokingâ€"you don‘t want to buy stamps.‘ "Yes, I do,‘ said the lawyer. ‘I have done too much work lately, and have had something like a breakdown. My physiâ€" cian suggests that I take up some kind of collecting pursuit that will furnish a degree of mental rest, so I thought of stamps, and the physician thinks that collecting them will answer the purpose nicely. ¢ WJonl oo «ro!l Alcnansnnes. a MEECCIY * "The collection of stamps possessess MA eurious fascination. Some years AgO a Chicagoan was appointed Consulâ€"General at Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Afiter he had been stationed there for a while his miece, who lived in Chicago, wrote and asked if he would send her some Brazilâ€" ian stamps. oice ts mpla onl es nf \Phe OR PRTCCOEO "The Consulâ€"General told one of tne attaches of the office to tear off somme stamps from letters which came to hand in the course of ordinary business, and these were forwarded to the â€" Chicago girl. s esn stomne she wrote 145. "Upon receiving the stamps she wrote and thanked her uncle for them, but stated that the stamps he had sent were not the kind she wanted, as plenty of the common and current varieties were easily obtainable in Chicago. What she wanted was the old Brazilian stamps of the obsolete issues. "The gathering of the latter stamps he found to be a task of considerable difâ€" ficulty, but he went to work, visited the different local stamp dealers, made inâ€" quiries in various directions for the stamps, and in the course of a few months had acquired an expert know!â€" edge of the numerous Brazilian issues. "Brazil was the second country» in the ch stamp collector as & rule is closest buyer," said a stamp This phase of cellecting, indeed, P ces dn ap en ONT told one of the TORONTO world to adopt the adhesive postage stamp, and from the time of their first F ESE E Lily nc o% oi nb Eeieeen ns Semine o EiT on snn c agec use, in 1843, down to and including 1906 there were no less than ° 431 straight varieties, not to speak of the numerous trifling varieties. will day barâ€" him Eo on P "In trying to get additional informaâ€" tion about these stamps the collection of them finally began to exercise a fasâ€" cination for him, and the first thing he knew he was buying stamps for the American Consulâ€"General at Brazil, and his niece had become a secondary conâ€" sideration. "He had much trouble in distinguishâ€" ing the difference between the early issues, as from 1843 up to 1866 all the stamps showed just the figures from 10 to 600, without value or inscription, and nearly all printed in black. But he perâ€" severed. ‘Often when he desired a _ certain variety of stamp to fill out a certain series he bought the entire collection of some person and then put the rest of the stamps of the collection into a trunk. Once he actually bought the entire stock of a Brazilian stamp dealer in order to gain possession of a few rare varieties. "And by the time he left Rio he not only had the most complete collection of Brazilian stamps in the world, but he had the greatest number of them, the trunk being jammed to the top with the different issues,. He also had become the leading authority on the stamps of Brazil. After his return to the United States he disposed of his collection to a dealer, and the latter said, when he saw the number of Brazilian stampe the trunk contained, that he could scarcely believe there were so many stamps of this one country in existence." But on Public View, Nevertheless, for the Shade Was Up. (N. Y. Sun.) Whether it is that persons resident | in Harlem are not now accustomed to ai kiss, on a sort of analogy that the | * electric car has replaced the bus, or ’4. whatever be the reason;â€"the sight 0f | a; two persons engaged in exercising the | art of osculationâ€" attracted a great crowd in a Harlem street about 7 o‘clock last night. As the persons, | * male and female, are to be nameless, | ! so as well might be the name of the | hotel and its exact location, save to U3 remark that it is on 125th street, and | so also were the persons at the time | of the kiss, and afterward, on the third floor, two windows to the south from the avenue corner. | It was a long kiss, this, although no | official time was taken. The curtain |/ of the window to this room was up | when it began and that is how Harâ€" | lem became aware that a kiss was in | its midst. One by one, as crowds do, | a crowd gathered in a street below. | Every variety of Harlem wit was venâ€" tured as the size and proportions of | this kiss became momentarily more of record magnitude. â€" Eventually after ‘ the crowd grew to about a hundred or | so and the kiss was continuing with | no signs of losing strength some one | bethought himself letting the hotel ; â€"| office know. _ | An involved teleé;hone messafe, with hints of the Soul Kiss, Olga Nethersole and the like not inobvious remarks, puzzled the clerk, who did make out that something was toward on the third floor that was not as it should be. So up went a hallboy a:s down came the shade. _ Estima time of kiss, about eighteen minutes. Some time after the curtain had been pulled down a minister, as he said he was, called up the hotel on the telephon? to say that he had been ‘passing at the time the curtain was up an didn‘t think it at all a nice public exhibition on & Sunday. "The late Lord Kelvin," said a Harâ€" vard scientist, "bad a wonderfully origâ€" inal mind from childhood. _ _ I _"‘But what are you going to do with it, Willie?" he asked. _ * * ‘Tm cg.oin? to take it home,‘ was the ready reply, ‘and cram sugar in it, and see it ache.‘" $ "The best razor strop I ever had was a piece of glass," said the club barber. "An old barber gave it to me, and I tell you it worked fine, Unfortunately I let it fall and it broke, and I have never been able to get one like it. "There‘s some kink in the grinding which I can‘t seem to figure out. . In these days a good razor . strop is mighty hard thing to find, and I woul’ give a good deal if I could only get that piece of ground glass back again. It sure did put a cutting edge on the razor."â€"New York Sun. A story about Reginald De hoven was told the other night at a musical dinner in New York. "An ardent young admirer of De Koven‘s" said the narrator, *is spendâ€" ing the winter with a rich aunt in Milâ€" waukee. During his visit he had not thus far, been idle. Last week hbe finâ€" ished a sympbony, which he sent to R Ni POG PP . in | 1M the maestro, along â€" waukee beer. "De Koven wrote “My Dear BOYf" symphony and beer lent." Young Mr. Sapley was making a proâ€" tracted call upon the object of his afâ€" fections, Miss Evans, who was a pianist of considerable ability, She had just completed 25 minutes of Bach, in the hope that he would get tired and go home. "Oh, Miss Evans," he exclaimed, "I could just die listening to mlying!” l you like to have me play some more, Mr. Sapley?" asked Miss Evans, more, Mr. Blfleyl EEBRCR ACCC innocently.â€"Youth‘s Companion, NO STAGE K‘SS THIS, Many a ‘man‘s sympathy get rther than the telling. The Best Mr. De An Original Child Willing to Help. mPsCBr? along with a Koven‘s Critique rote back immediately: y, â€"Many thanks â€" for beer; the latter exoelâ€" Razor Strop of Mil | ‘OvERHEARD. | _ Mr. Booneâ€"Easyton is very courâ€" | teous to his wife, isn‘t he? _ _ _ Mrs. Booneâ€"Oh ““',Wiea';"he treats her |u politely as if she were . a total | stranger. Y Fe t Drawing the Line. "I see where a man editor out west has acceptd the leap year proposal of a woman editor, provided she can cook." "Yes, but I‘ll bet he draws the line at her making *pi‘"â€"Baltimore American, | Annie Knew. _ "Mamma,‘ said Freddie, "whats the | difference between goose and geese?" | _ "Why, don‘t you know that?" said ‘4-yeur-old Aumie. "One geese is goose, |\ and a whole lot of gooses is geese." "My chauffeur night." *"*What did youâ€"do about it "Fired _ him, of _ course."â€" Lampoon, "Papa, you have travelled a great deal on the water, haven‘t you*" "Yes, pet; why do you ask*" "Well, papa, did you ever see an ocean greyhound chase a sea puss?"â€"Baltiâ€" more Ameriean. "Ladies and gentlemen" is the phrase In years of three hundred and sixty five days, But nineteen hundred and eight is when The ladies are after the gentlemen, â€"MHarvard Lampoon. t First Actorâ€"*"I understand the audiâ€" ence last night was very cold." Second Actorâ€""They were at first, but when they began to recollect that they had pnf good money to see the show they got hot."â€"Illustrated Bits. f Makes One Feel Cheerful \ _ There is nothing like a good, |\ furnace full of clinkers to shake | timore Sun. The Actressâ€" supposed to dic Now, how am 1 with a broken 1 | Happiness. | _ You‘ll never git nowhars by howlin‘ fot * Mappiness. De only way ter git it is ter , jerk yo‘ coat an‘ go ter work fer it.â€" |\ Bre‘r Williams, in Atlanta Constitution after trate A Daily Thought. Boast not thyself of toâ€"morrow, fo thou knowest not what a day may brin forth.â€"Old Testament. On the Ten Party Line. Suddenly the alarm clock went off. The sleeper, haif awake, listened. "It‘s only one ring," he said. "Ours i four rings." Whereupon he went to sleep again an missed his train. IN A QUANDARY. Brotherâ€"Yes, I like â€" Jack wel‘ enough, but how did you ever hlm to marry a man a head shorter vou are ~ Sisterâ€"I had to little man with a big man with a li Little Kitty _ (entertaining ) Mintie thinks a Jot of you, Mr. M Eldorly _ Suitorâ€"Does â€" she, d How do you know? Little Kittyâ€"She says you‘ll 1 darlingest old meal ticket that happened. baby youngst« tistical." said The How to Know the Leap Year Markleyâ€"No, I can‘t let you have a fiver. Why don‘t you get Jenks to land it *o you?" . >â€"_ >â€"‘... Goodman Gonrongâ€"Â¥ on . never . was sick a day in yer life, an‘ you know it, Wot are ye shammin‘ now fur? Tuffold Knutt (in a feeble voice)â€" I‘ve had ‘leven offers 0‘ work this mornâ€" in‘ shovelin‘ snow! w'l'}:)r;:)u?h;:fiut he doesn‘t know me very well _ _ C L o s y 'fill;'kié)â€";â€"Thlt’s why him. "What do you think of my execution on the piano*" "No better place for your execution could be chosen. 1 have always been in favor of punishing criminals on the seene of the crime."â€"Chicago News, [eCorigan was showing _ some over the house. Arriving at the he remarked: "This, gentleâ€" the bawlâ€"room." Not Serious. We don‘t say that Webster‘s in error, error, We simply remark in pure fun, A tourist‘s a tramp who has money, And a tramp is a tourist with none, Uvers pmess youd hbe .€ the indignant Mrs. eutting vour teeth A Transformation. ctorâ€"*"I understand the audi night was very cold." Driven Into Retirement Giving Sister Naturally. ir came home loaded last Not Often AN ADVANTAGE he muttered wasn‘t . #0â€"â€" From Life â€"*"In this lie from a walking the Naturally o choose between a a big salary, and a little salary. Cruel Away. OR rotistical, too Rivers, "if vo floor with th slecpily, "this blamed . egoâ€" good, strong shake. â€"Balâ€" Harvard I suggested Ours is him ) Wellor the Ard th