The Syracuse Journal, Volume 1, Number 37, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 14 January 1908 — Page 6

••••••••••*•••••••••••• : Aunt Diana: • The Sunshine • • of the Family £ •••••••••••••••*••••••• 5 . 4. CHAPTER XX — (Continued ) The next few weeks passed happily for Alison; she had her dearest friend with her, and what more could she ask for? Aunt Diana had settled down quite comfortably in her uiehe, as though she were one of the family. Without making herself uriduly prominent, or in any way itrenching on the; young housekeeper’s privilege, she yet contrived, with quiet tact; to lighten Alison's burden and procure her she so much needed. Alison resumed her walks with Roger, while «Aunt Diana amused Missie or read to Air. Merle. During the day Alison was too much engaged to enjoy much of Ami t Diana's Company, but Miss 'Carrington insisted that she should resume her painting lessons as soon- as Missie was able to be with her father: and she also contrived that she and Alison should have one [of their old Refreshing talks as often as possible. Nothing rested Alison so much aS intercourse with Miss Carrington's strong. vigorous mind. Annt Diana quickly found her way into Missie’s wayward'- little heart, and she soon turned hey influence to good account. One,i afternoon!, when Aliso.n had been spending sonic} hours at Maplewood; she found on herTphirn that Missie had gone back into her old room. ! All Alison's books and pielpres had been moved: Aunt Dilina’s loving hands n::<l evidently been employed jn;her sm-w. • ■ . one ° world Havg arranged the bowl of dark. .Chiysanihemu'tns on the little round table, and tii ■ pretty, frtsh cretonne on th|ecouch chair spoke of the same taste. x . \ Alison’s /voice trembled' as she tlmnkod Missie. •‘‘Y’ou. ought not to have done it, Mabel det.r; it is very good of yon, hut I* would rather have (waited until you were really ' (Well.” ' . i', "I always inftnit to do it.” .returned Missie, solemnly. . “J thought about it evitry night! and then I made up my mind to to Aunt Diana, Aid shesaid she would help me. Have you seen the beautiful illumination she has painted for you?”; Yes, Alison, had. seen-it. “Be noti weary in well-doing!’—that . was the tej<t that Miss Carrington had. . -chosen—“for in,, djte seasbn we shall reap! if we faint not;.’'- Well, was dot Alison reaping a rich harvest? Would she ever . ! repent.that she had come back to her ? own people! for loving seirvice -and yaipistry, when she had'won Missie’s aflJ&etipn; and found her way to her father's heart? -■ .That lie loved and trusted her, that, she w is growing .daily dearer to him.‘-Alison, with all hpr humility, could not doubt ; but' Missie' wjas still his petted darling —the very suffering she had caused 4 him brought them nearer together. It was i lovely sight, MisS Carrington ; thdught, th see Missie 'sitting for hodrs pitiently Reside her father’s couch read- ! jug or talking to him. But for -her aunt's vigilant cajre-her health would have been pjefinanenfjy injured by her devotion to him ; before she left ’ she made Missie faithfully promise to take her daily walk and to resting her singing. j “You must leive something for Allie to do,” she saic, with a smile; “I can not sanction monopoly. We must watch against seltisluu ss, dear child, even in our. best hetions : we must not be overexacting in our affection—love sometimes compels one to efface one’s self for love's —? sake.” */,-■ . . - - ; i Anna was a®constant visitor to The Holms during Miss Carrington's stay: they haff taken a great fancy to each Other. Anna'told Alison privately that she thought Miss Carrington was the most beautiful woman she had, ever seen. “I ddn’t know about her features.” Alison had answered; “I don’t think people consider her handsome, but it is-,. a dear fade, and that is all I care about.” “I am never tired of looking at her,” returned Anna, with girlish enthusiasm: (‘‘one sees the thoughts coming before she speaks! her eyes talk to one, even when she is silent. is something harmonious, too. in her voice, .and even in her Walk: she never jars on one; I am sure, there are no discords in her nature.” 1 Alison repeated this speech; she thought it sff prettily worded, and so true. But Miss Carrington shook her head over-it and let it pass; knew much better how the chords of being had once been jangled roughly out Os tune. “No discords in her nature!” when every note had been dumb and tuneless until! the Divine Hand had brought the ‘jarred chords! into harmony. “When God’s will is our will, then we shall know peace,” she said to herself: “I have learned that now.” But she spoke very kindly of Anna, and praised Alison’s discernment in the choice of a friend. “She As a simple! lovable little soul,” she said.once; “it is quite a treat in this decided age 'to meet‘with a girl who distrusts Her own judgment, and believes other people’s experiences before her own.” [‘Anna is really very clever, Aunt Di.”! “I am sure of that, my -dear; and she shows her cleverness by not advertising her best wares. ’ln talking to her one is not dropping over buckets into empty wells—there is good sffnse and a clear knowledge ofs, facts at the bottom. Livy ing in an uncongenial atmosphere has make her shy and awkward; she is like a poor little plant brought too suddenly into- ‘ thd light; in another year or so she will be less pallid and depressed; she will have learned to believe : jn herself a lit-i tie.” ■ "I am afraid you think her plain,’’.observed Alison, anxiously; for her artistic taste made her lay rather an undue importance on beauty; “but really, when she talks and brightens up she. is quite pretty.” “She has a lovely look sometimes. You are wrong, Allie, I do not think her plain. Missie’s apple Blossom fate makes [ her a little colorless, but there is a delicate white rose bloom about her that is not without beauty. I like her face, my dear.” “Do you know. Aunt Di”—hesitating a

little, as though she feared how her words might be received, for Miss Carrington had a horror of gossip—“I am half afraid that there is a new trouble in store for poor Anna.” “You mean Eva’s marriage. I think that will be a good thing for her; there fts no real sympathy between the sisters.” , “No, I meant something quite different. I have been at Maplewood a great deal this week, and Dr. Forbes is always there. I am afraid, from what I see, that Anna will soon have a step-father, and. Aunt Di”—in a voice of strong ffisgust—“Dn Forbes is such an ugly,’disagreeable man, I must say I do wonder at Mrs. Hardwick.” “Do you, Allie? Well, wonder sits well on young people. 1 I hate to see.them taking everything as' a matter, of course. Your Wonder will not hurt you, my dear.” “But if-it should be true, Aunt Di?” very Solemnly. ' “ ‘There are no fools like old fools,’ Allie. I and there is certainly no accounting for tastes. Now, in ,my opinion, one husband is enough for any woman; but I do hot pretend to regulate the world. Don't trouble your little head about it. I hav|e a notion that.- step-father or no step-father.. Anna will have her share of God s sunshine.” Ahd! Miss Carrington r s hiJed a queer little smile that mystified Aiiso.rj, but she said nd more. There were some ‘things of which Miss Carrington never spoke to yougg pebplfe. She Ojften said: “A gitl’s mineftought to be as clear as crystal and hold no cecrets—crystal reflects every-t'hing. I wish older people woujd remember that.” And nothing displeased her more than the careless, talk of some mothers. “They tion’t Seem to care-what they put into a .girl's mind.” she would say, indignantly, ‘‘ty'.d then they wonder that it is chocked up with rubbish.” . CHAPTER XXL Miss Carrington took a great deal of u otiee! of I Roger, and- sought every. oppori unity, to be with him: : she had a grtat respect for his character, which, she said, was al most uncommon one. . “Rqger differs from the young, men of his generation,” she said’ once to Alison; 1 [it es little for'other people’s opiniorik. unless lie knows them to be in the right-r-mern criticism doeg.not - hinl in the least.” J Shq took a great interest in his work, ami -made herself acquainted with the details of the businek. Roger wondereil a little at the quiet pdrtinaeify with which she (juestiohed him] she even followed him to’the. mill! an 1 sat in the timber yard watching the men at work. After' a few cdnv,|rs.itio|is- with Roger ■she spoke very .serii-usly to Iter brother-in-laW? she told hpn Roger Xyas very young for such a He is a good lad. and would wear himself o.ut in votir'service, Ai:t[lie... and that .w ithout a word of complaint, but he looks too old ahd careworn f<i>r his age: you must remember lie is only twb-aiiil-twenty yet —he must have his play time,, like-other lads/’F -■■'!;' ' ' . .'‘“Biht how am I Ito help him, Diana? asked! Mr. Merle, frkfully'. “It is net my fault that 1 am lying here like a log. ■The boy must'work, .of'what would* hpcbmc | of us all?" ,1 , ' li ■ “My dear Atnslie, you misunderstand n)ie,”. she replied, gdntly. “Os course Roger -taust work; but surely he needs help for, so large a business, i- Have you put no one in your last, manager’s place?” “Ayo hot [he returned, evidently sjtruck by her practical good sense. “Roger *iiever proposed it, and I was too indolent' to.think about it; but theie is Murdoch, a Scotchman—he has been with us a! long time, and he is an honest fellow. I dare say he would be glad of ay rise in his salary: he has a large young family. I will ask Roger what he thinks 6f- putting' Murdoch in 'the manager’s blacei- I think he would watch over our interests.” “I wish you would do so,” she returned earnestly; “Roger is rather -too hard worked for his age. He tells me he has no time for cricket or tenuis, or for skating in winter. I—l have set my heart, Ainslie, on his’ bringing Alison for a long visit Ao Moss-side in the soring. You will be better by that timqjand if you have a managt? .Roger will, be able to joy a holiday ; lie tells me he has not left Chesterton for two years.” v “I am afraid I have been very remiss and neglected his interests?’ returned Mr. ■Merle; rather*sadly. “You shall have ! yout wish, Diana; I will manage.to spare Roger for a month.”. “Come, now, that is generous of you,” she replied, brightly: “I shall owe you a good turn for that. Supposing I promise to come and spend- my Christmas and Xew Year with you; shall you care to have me?” , v 5 ”Try me.” was his qnlyyeply. But he said it with one of his pare, smiles, and Miss Carrington felt she tyepld be welcome. . The prospect of having AYint Diana for Christmas, and still more the promise of a Ibpg visit to Moss-side in the spring, went far to reconcile Alison to the parting when the day came for r Miss Carrington to leave them, but when the last hour arriyed Alison’s; heart failed her a little. . “You must not look so pale over it, Allie,” Miss’ Carrington said to her anxiously; “you know if I had the power I would willingly take you back with me.” “Yes, but I. could not leave papa lyihg there. There can be no question now about my duty ; it is a comfort to know that.” “Yes, dearest, yotir place must be here a little longey; they could not spare you to me yet. Do you know, I sometimes doubt whether the old days will ever, come back.” , Aunt Di! Do you mean I Shall never' be # able to live with you again?” Risked Alison, in an alarmed voice. Miss, Carrington looked at her strangely moved way. is l do not think you will live at The Holms always; Missie will replace you 4jy and by. I am quite sure we shall be together, even if it be not in the old way. Don’t look so perplexed,’ Allie, darling; in this life, with its manifold changes and chances, things are seldom quite the same.” “You and I will never be different-—I am convinced of that,” exclaimed Alison, not in the least understanding the drift of Aunt Diana’s strange speech. “Oh, Aunt Di, how delicious the spring will be! To think that we shall be rowing on the river again to Long Island, to hunt for forget-me-nots, and that we shall hear the cuckoo in Aspy Woods, and I shall be sitting in the studio watching

you painting, and Roger Will be with ns." “That’s right; look forward, Allie darling; it is your birthright. The yohng must always look on to a happy future. Now say good-bye to me, so& I hear the carriage coming round. Christmas will soon be here, and, heaven wiWiig, we shall meet again.” And pressing her tenderly in her arms, Aunt Diana turned away. CHAPTER XXII. Miss Carrington, indeed, spent her Christmas and the opening days of the new year at» Thß Holms, to the mutual enjoyment of herself and Alison; but it was hot until, the( end of June that Alison Rogpr paid" their promised visit to Moss-sidq —not until the sweet fresh days of spring haff passed; into the glory of summer, ; Miss - Carringtbn had written again apd again, "pleading the compact sllff had made with Mr. Merle ; but neither of the yoking people had found thefoselves free. "When! we come it must be with a quiet • conscience! and not with a burden of unfilleld duties, dear Aunt Di,” wrote Alison a’t last. “Missie can do without me, but Roger can nfft leave at present—there is I such a pressure of business at the mill;iand-if you do not mind, I would rather Wait for him.” - Miss Carrington's reply was curt, and to the points "Wait for Roger, by all means. I am not young-enough to fear deferring an unexpected pleasure, or old enough .to dtead that ‘by and by’ maymean never. There is danger in hurrying on things too much; we need not crowd our lives. I Will have - neither of you until -you cap put your cares iti your pockets, and I take the full meaning of these sweet, sunshiny.' days.” . ■ ' < Aunt Diana’s unselfishness and patience were rewarded when at last the desired letter from'.Alison' arrived. Its bright sentences sduUffed to her like a ripple of soft ‘laughter from youthful lips. “We. are coming, coining,! coming!” Could any. repetition be’ sweeter than that? It was one of the loveliest evenings in June when Alison and Roger arrived at the ..Riverslon station, .and stood for a moment loolMig round them in a pleased uncertainty _ whether any familiar face would greet" them. Miss Carrington had hinted that she preferred receiving her guests'iu her own porch —she hated the biisthj pnd ntffse.of a railway station. But still/Alison's dark eyes would scan the plajtforui ahdgh-e s'ltiny station room, hplf' ihftlelfghtful..recognition and- half in girl-1 ish curiosity.i . « * “Allie, who is that handsome fellow just getting [down frdm the dog cart?” asked Roger. "What a - neat little turnout! I bk’e a/chestnut mare. Halloa! do you know! liijn?" as Alison smiled and bowed,> ~ \ “It is Qr6'illc Moore,” she-said, hurriedly, and Albright look of pleasure Crossed her face tj|t the sight ot her old frieniA which was certainly reflected in the young' itiau’s countenance as he came forward and greeted (them. “You are! to, a minute,” he .said; joj’ous(ly, “rather before your I ; me, for I have ■ only just driven up. Miss Carrington (fold .me I might bring- the dog cart, ahd your luggage might go up by the omhibus. How are you, Miss Alison? You do not seem at all fagged by your long (journey- I expected to find a pair of dusty,..jaded travelers. “Alison is- as fresh as a lark, ’ returned Roger; i“she has been chirping like a whole nestful all the way up. It is a good many tyears since we met, Moore. , I should hafffiy have identified you the first minute but” for.my sister's recognition. ’ “I believe I should not have known you,” replied Greville, with a quick, scrutinizing glance. “You' don't look .first rate—does he, Miss. Alison? He has an overworked appearance. We must give him plenty of tennis and boating, aud make hihi look ybuuger. “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” laughed Roger “Two of three weeks of idleness and fresh air’will make a different fellow of me. I mean to forget that there are such things as sawmills in existence!” , “Come, that is sensible,” returned Greville, heartily. "Miss Alison; will you take the front seat? Mbrle, the groom is going tjo look after the luggage, so you need not trouble your about it.” And, springing lightly to his place, he touched the mare, and in a moment they were driving rapidly down the shady road. i L (To be continued.) ' - .1 ' . —~ Fiili Lesson ih Spelling. Students in a London school were recently asked to write this from dictation: “A- ghrtoiious sibyl with her glutinous hand complacently seized a serve, a phthiscal fclineumon, a noticeable supercilious irascible and cynical Sengeant, an embarrassed and harassed Chrysalis, a shrieking sheik, a <j£mplaisant proselyte and an anonymous chrysolite. These all suddenly disappeared down*4jer receptive esophagus. She simply said: Pugh! not saccharine ! “She' then transferrecl a billion of bilious mosquitoes, an unsalable bouquet of fuchsias, lilies, dahlias, hyacinths. and phlox, a liquefied bdellium, an indelible defamatory 'inflammatorysynchronism and a debatable syllogism to "the same capacious receptacle. “Peaceably surrendering her daguerreotype to the ecstatic aeronaut, she descended with her parachute—a synonym for barouche —and grievously terrified the stolid, squalid yeomanry already torrefied by the heat, 101 Fahrenheit.” Tha English. Language. Mrs. Weeks (during storm) — clous! that was an awful clap of thun“ der; it frightened me terribly. Weeks—Nonsense, my dear. Thunder can’t hurt you. Mrs. Weeks—lndeed! Didn’t you ever hear of people being thunderstruck? A Slight Jolt. He (boastlngly)—lt takes six generations to malfe a gentleman, you know. She (calmly)—-Yes, and what a pity that it only takes on generation to unmake him. In Russia an unmarried woman remains under the absolute sway of her parents untM her death, regardless of ier age.

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Woman’s Servility to Fashion. There is nothing more abject in the social state than the servility of women to the dictates of fashion, declares a New York writer. Nothing more inartistic or barren of all harmony or beauty could be devised than the feminine figure which prevails at present just because it is "fashionable.” Os course, ip this respect fat. even mildly plunip. women are left out of the reckoning. though they are struggling as best they can. to 1 compress themselves into the shape of an Egyptian mammy. TO be in line with fashion now everywoman must find her greatest Width at. the sjioulders.. From that point she must taper to her heels, .anil she must. be prepared to knock her knees together when she walks. It’is a fashion that is preposterous in every w iy. and it is not to the credit of the great army of women that its ititroilUeti-'ii -was brought .about by three dressiiiakers’ models. !' The -style, was' seen first wheh three models went to a Paris race track in sheath gowns, and for their escorted off the course by the police. For a few weeks the women of Paris asserted they would not submit to the sheath goivn or any modification of it : yet the clinging effect of the sM-ath forms the chief note irt the present styles. Worth and other alleged lea.ling dressmakers of Paris cried out’ against anything approaehing the i sheath model, hut all have been tercel to surrender. ■• • ;•■;-. Os course, the. true slice th, with its slit side, has not been worn. q'he tapering effect of the sheath '- the thing. .Women, .tali and 'sniall. have- fallen victims of the craze. The irntufa 1 lip-s of the human form must disappear under the lacing and the kneading of this iniquitous fashion. . The woman who-cannot compress her hips into smaller- 1 spaefTfthan her shoulders will be looked upon as hopeless from the point of View of fashion, and this imposes torture upog the great majority. . What is to come out of it all? Petticoats are to be discarded, so that the mummy effect may-not be destroyed. To move .easily.in the new ski'-ts is an impossibility, and the knoi’lt-kneed wonian will find herself at an advantage over her ' straight-limited sister. The ways of fashion sorely are as strange and mysterious as woman herself. Combiiialion Cost nine. I Pl/ Prunelie velvet was used to make the long, plaim skirt of this stylish costume, nniP chiffon broadcloth in a lovely shade of violet that harmonized beautifully made thd tunje. Russian lace was elaborately used on the bodice, and made the entire short sleeves. The yoke was t'ornua? of yhiffon. finely tucked, and matched the tunic in color. The hat of satin and aigrettes was carried out in tire same lovely shades. - Homeless Girjs. There are said to be n$ fewer than 50,000 working girls in Berlin who have no homes, no rooms even that tliey can, call their owM- but sleep in the Schlafstellen. and in the daytime haye hq place at all to which to go. The city contributes SSOO, a year toward three .homes.where the girls.may go when they are sick. , Anna Plothow has suggested that ’the factory owners would benefit themselves by. making, good homes for the girls. The American Woman." Who shall say which is the true American woman, the housekeeper of the-Kansas farm, of the Tennessee mountain cabin or of the .city flat? asks a writer in the New York Evening Post. Thffre is no composite of the American wonian, who is least of all to be studied on sth avenue or Newport or to be judged by the “stories” about her in the illustrated Sunday supplements. That she has her faults, wherever she be, is perfectly obvious,

since she is but] human. We are inclined to think that a serious and cafeful student would find the educated American woman less interested in political and sociai questions than her sisters abroad. But, on the other hand, if there is narrowness along these linest where is her equal for charitable work? Where any others who merit such-praise for l maintaining the ar.istic and the refining influences of the home? ! - / Big pigskin, Walrus or leather a bags. 10 by 12 inches, are'seen in 1 '.e shops, Cashmere de. soie. with a surface as glossy as satin, is a pronounced novelty ■it’ dress goods. . ’ For actip.l,warmth the goat skin ai d oppossum coats, lined with cloth, are veriy l successful. " ’ . The glove most eagerly sought tp-day for everyday wear is the French pi ;«e with one clasp. - The soft, eight-bu: >n gloves are worn with afternoon t'.iil- . GIRLS' ELABORATE TS

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and fits snugly to the arm. All gloves button; , . . ■ Flowers and fruit appear among tiie designs ifi men's neckwear : Nowadays nearly all women wear jabots, and among the -prettiest is the grandfather frill-. { . EmbYoideretl dots of various sizes are used in dainty ties. The dots may be white or. a color. Royal blue, golden brown, mulberijy and maize are’ fashionable colors in high-class costumes. Many of the prettiest hats are ahn’iW smothered in .downy marabou: its s<>s| Effect is becoming to lalinost every Woman. A narrow band of gold or silver ribbon. with a rose at each end, makes a becoming hair ornament bn-the Grecian order. Shoes present one aspect coming and another aspect going—-backs match the dress, while fronts are of conventional patent leather. , W’ith elaborate afternoon and evening gowns sleeves that are strapped with the material of the gown over lace are a good deal used. ' Slip a bit of gold, lace under your net chemisette. This glint of gold through the transperancy is one of the important touches. ’ 5 The dressmakers hate decided that about the best' width for the modern clinging skirt is two yards or a few inches over, Street skirts cut above the ankles, made of rough fabrics, are hot always this wide, but the two yards in unstiffened satin or tulle give enough istiffnesS at . footline. , ' • The Better Foreign Way. American women are clean enough as far as theiivhomes are concerned, but thlpy often very s grudgingly give any work to the municipality. In Germany there is a nightly washing of the cities that luakes everything clean to the eye when morning comes, ami the Dutch, housewife considers the pavement in frout of her house a responsibility of her own. and scrubs it until it is clean enough to eat from. Barrette That Sticks. There is already a woman’s back Comb designed so as to retain its place in the hair. It has remained for a M. a s SachWetts man to turn out a barrette with Yz the same zz Th* B barrel! has v a row of teeth Inside and running lengthwise with the back. The pin is wide sure to stick, enough to carry .an opening into which the teeth fit, so that when the whole is closed and fastened in the hair there is little danger of the pin coming open, as the pins of most barettes afe prone to do, inasmuch as the strands (>f hair that are caught between the teeth keep it in position. There‘is probably no one ar-

tide of dress or ornament more frequently lost by a wojgaan than a barrette, and as many of these are costly articles, some of them, iiqleed. taining valuable jewels, the importance of this safety device can be readily appreciated. Woman'll Proposal. A bachelor rector of a Western church w;as alone in his study when his housekeeper brought him the catd of v one of his parishioners, a spinster of means and charm. When the lady was seated on the opposite side of his study table the rector looked at her inquiringly. exi>evting to hear something concerning paris'P work, in which he was active. To his, surprise art embarrassed silence ensued, during which he vainly sought for something to say. - j "Dr. Blank.” the lady, at last, in faltering tones, “do you think —can you fancy conditions under which a—a woman is—justified in proposing?” ‘■‘Why. yes." said the rdetor. after some deliberation. "Thou art the maul" said the lady, resolutely. , She was right. When Sleeves Are Long. The girl of the.pretty hayd and aym, is not pleased witlj the latest dictum in sleeves. . Layers of folk Or net or. velvet almost to tile finger tips may be "smart,"'but they also cover up much! natural beauty Thojigh the “knackers were wont to benwau the ugliness dis- i played bj» the long, , popular elbow, i sleeve, in 1 point of fact it was a style much more becoming to the average, hand than the long sleeve. It may make a baud seem smaller to be half covefted; it also makes it look , redder ami much more aw kward. De-1 ; feets in manicuring are. more in evi- : ! donee: therefore if behooves one to pay I jpiiore instead of less nth iitfon to the. 'LES OF HAIRDRESSING.

care of her hands.' The long sleeve requires more careful! cutting, it does away with the fetclfing bracelet, ayid it brings about cheaper gloves.’ Honey foi» Brirnsf. ' -The Swiss Bee Journal sa<ys. in speaking of honey as a cure for burns, that a .childS2 years old was severely burned on mm, in boiling water. The member was immediately bathed in honey and wrapped in a linen cloth. The pain at once ceased and the healimf~was very rapid, the honey keeping. the air .from the burn. ..The handage was Changed every day.' It was easily removed, without hurting the child, by first moistening the'cloth with warm water. Modish Reception Govra, / Il \ '.-Ov/ i /' \ 1 1 Wz w/m fl TOol' oLi d’lhW For this rich and elegant costume gray chiffon broadcloth was used, and, as sketch shows, it is'cut in tunic effect, the latter bordered with bauds of self-tone satin. The heavy lace so elaborately; used is dyed to match the cloth, and tiny silver buttons and braid form a pretty closing for the side se-uus. The-accompanying hat is black satin, loaded with magnificent gray fihimes. i ‘ A Danger in Cheap Furs. “CheapJfuts carry with them a danger that it is well~to consider,” says the Woman’s Home Companion. “This is the unsanitary manner 1 in which they are made up and the fact that fur offers; an attractive lurking z /place for germs. Most of them are made by Russian Jews, half . starved, unclean and many of them victims of furriers' asthma. Naturally the better goods are made under sanitary conditions.” ' ’

lKxuM Serna Cleanses the System EjfeetuaWy Dispels colds and Headaches duete ConsX\paY\on; Acte naVuva\\y, actetev\v as aLaxaXwe Beskov Men}Vbnien vcw—aud Q\d. To det Ws bencj\c\a\ ejects, always buy lhe Genuine, manufactured by the CALIFORNIA Fig Syrup Co. SOLD BY AU-LEADING DRUGGISTS one Size only, regular price. 50 s per bottle. - ‘ Cray and the Elesy. Thomas (irsiy kept the elegy by him for nine years he gave ’t to the world. He polished aWay at it all those, years as a lapidary polishes a gem. and ( thfe result was he made it a gem. In ’.hfs whole, life he wrote comparatively little, and when asked* why he had written so little he replied. “Because - of’the'exertion it costs in the labor of composition." , - SIOO .Reward. SIOO. 'The readers *f this papetlwhl W? pleased r> to learn that t-eYe is .at, least one; dreaded disease tliat,s.-ietno has been able to cure in all its stair - a: 1 -! that is t'atarrlt. Hail s Cjrtarrli't’ tire i.!> t , ■ only positive Haire now known to the medlcat fraternity, j I atarrh being a. conltituta.tial ' disease, rfquirea a , constitutional tr-'.itn - tit. Pall's j Catarrh ' Cure is taken Int-- a.i lv. acting) directly upon-?t>e i-100-l and 'iia. ■»!< snrfaefo of. the systenu the ;■ . m-'tbe fountlation <»f . the-di'ease. and giving the patient by building up' the constitution and assisting nature in dost-g Its work. The proprietors have so much faith in its curative powers tlwt they iuler t)m Hundred Dollars for any case that it falls to cure. Send for list of test itnouiafs. Address E. CHEXEX & CO.. Toledo. O. Sold bv rftl' 1 <t<. 75c.. Take Halls Eami|y Pills for constipation. No Scarcity. “Is this the fimqici.d editor?” “Yes. sin”, ,• “Just to settle a bet. will you please a tel] nte if there'is such a thing as a $3 bill?” . • ! [ ) “Certainly. .1 had a $3 bill in my. possession this mprning. and I. stopped at the grocer's on my Way <soivntovyn and paid it. You lose.” s Every Woman Will Be Interested. , There has recently been ' discovered an aromatic, pleasant herb cuter for woman's ills, called Mother Gray’S •' AUSTRALIAN-LEAF. It is the only i-er- ■ tain regulator. Cures female weakness•es -and It<■ I::i<• I:< . Kidney. Bladder ati.l • Urinary troubles. At all Druggists or by mail 50 ets..’Sample FREE. Addt>>ws, The Mother Gray Co., Leßoy, N. Y. Uncle AMeln Deninru.’ “It has alwaj-s seemed to me,” said' Uncle Allen Sparks, “that it's unjust to call ’em .Ananias clubs.’ It - isn’t quite fair to Ananias. He didn’t actually uttei ‘ any lies; he only lied by implication. He wasn't really'eligible himself to member-, ship in an Ananias club.” Only One “BROMO QUININK” That,ls LAXATIVE BROMO QUININE. Look 1 for the signature' 4 of E. W. GROVE. Used tha World over to Cure a Cold lu One Day. 25c. Deluded the Frirmers. Farmers: who have been reading recently a story concerning the possibilities of enormous riches from' a new brand of Alaskan wheat yielding 200 bushels per acre need no.t get “excited. ( The;yarn has been branded as “largely a fake” by the Agricultural Department in Washington, 'whose experts Have been Investigating the story.* Nothing *«• has caused so much amusement among the agricultural scientists since the fake which cropped up several ago about the-discovery of seedless apt' pies in Colorado. < According to the “hot weather” tale; one Abraham Adams, of Idaho, found a single head of wheat in Alaska, brought it back to his ranch in this country l planted it in the fall, of 1004 and ob- . tained seven pounds of wheat from the . one head.* In 1006, it Is recorded, Adams obtained from this wheat a yield of 222 bushels to the acre. The first part of this statement is 1 as perhaps true by Acting Secretary of J Agriculture Hayes. Planting the grains one foot apart, he said to-day, it would be possible to grow from one liead of wheat approximately seven pounds; there would -be nothing remarkable in that. But he declared that no wheat existed which could product 200 bushels per acre; that the maximum of yield in Minnesota is about 40 bushels, and in winter wheat regions 60 or 75 bushels per acre. . ' 1 ROSY AND PLUMP. J , Good Health from Right Food. “It’s not, a new food to. me,” remarked a Va. man. in speaking of Grape-Nuts. “About twelve months ago my'wife was in very bad health, could not keep, anything on. her stomach. The Doctor recommended milk half water but it was not sufficiently nourishing. * ’ “A friend of mine told me one day to try Grape-Nuts and cream. The result was really marvelous. . My wife soon regained hel' strength and to-day is as rosy and plunip as wheh a girl 1 of sixteen. “These are plain facts and nothing ? I Could say in praise of Grape-Nuts would exaggerate in the least, the value of this great food.” u Name given by Postum Co., Battle ' Creek. Mich. Read “The Road to WeUville,” in pkgs. “There’s a Reason.” Ever read the above, letter? A new one appears from time to June. They are genuine, true, and ull ®f human interest