The Syracuse Journal, Volume 4, Number 16, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 17 August 1911 — Page 3

1/2 STORY I ELUSIVE I |ISABEL| By JACQUES FUTRELLE ’W Illajtrationj by M. KETTNER Copyright, 190 S, by The Associated Sunday Magazines. Copyright 19W. by The Bobbs-MerrlU Company. 1 i CHAPTER I. Miss Isabel Thorne. All the world rubs elbows in Washington. Outwardly it is merely a city of evasion, of conventionalities, sated with the commonplace’ pleasures of life, listless, blase even, and always exquisitely, albeit frigidly, courteous; but beneath the still, suave surface strange currents play at cross purposes, Intrigue is endless, and the merciless war of diplomacy goes on unceasingly. Occasionally, only occasionally, a bubble comes to the surface, and when it bursts the echo goes crashing around the earth. Sometimes a dynasty is shaken, a nation trembles, a ministry topples over; but the ripple moves and all is placid again. No man may know all that happens there, for then he would be diplomatic master of the world. “There is plenty of red blood in Washington,” remarked a jesting legislative gray-beard, once upon a time, “but it’s always frozen before they put •t in circulation. Diplomatic negotiations are conducted in the drawingroom, but long before that the fight is fought down cellar. The diplomatists meet at table and there isn’t any (broken crockery, but you can always tell what the player thinks of the dealer by the way he draws three! cards. Everybody is after results ; and lots of monarchs of Europe sit ujp nights polishing their crowns waiting for word from Washington.” So, this is Washington! And here at dinnerware the diplomatic representatives of all the nations. That is the British ambassador, that stolidfaced, distinguished-looking, elderly man; and this is the French ambassador, dapper, volatile, plus-correct; here Russia’s highest representative wags a huge, blond beard; and yonder is the phlegmatic German ambassador. Scattered around the table, brilliant spotches of color, are the uniformed envoys of the Orient —the smaller the country the more brilliant the splotch. It is a state dinner, to be followed by a state ball, and they are all present. The Italian ambassador, Count d! Rosini, was trying to interpret a French bon mot into English for the benefit of the dainty, doll-like wife of the Chinese minister —who was educated at Radcliffe —when a servant leaned over him and laid a sealed en‘velope beside his plate. The count glanced around at the servant, excused himself to Mrs. Quong Li Wi, and opened envelope. Inside was a single sheet of embassy note paper, and a terse line signed by his secretary: “A lady is waiting for you here. She says she must see you immediately, on a matter of the greatest importance.” The count read the note twice, with wrinkled brow, then scribbled on it in pencil: "Impossible to-night Tell her to call at the embassy to-morrow morning at half-past ten o’clock.” He folded the note, haftded it to the servant, and resumed his conversation with Mrs. Wl. Half an hour later the same servant placed a second sealed envelope beside his plate. Recognizing the superscription, the ambassador impatiently shoved it aside, intending to disregard it. But Irritated curiosity final- | ly triumphed, and he opened it A white card on which was written this command was his reward: “It is necessary that you come to the embassy at once." There was no signature. The handwriting was unmistakably that of a woman, and just as unmistakably strange to him. He frowned a little as he stared at it wonderingly, then idly turned the card over. There was no name on the reverse side—only a crest. Evidently the count recognized this, for his impassive face reflected surprise for an instant, and this was followed by a keen, bewildered interest. Finally he arose, made his apologies, and left the room. His automobile was at the door. "To the embassy,” he directed the chauffeur. And within five minutes he was there. His secretary met him in the hall. “The lady is waiting in your office,” he explained apologetically. “I gave her your message, but she said she must see you and would write you a line herself. I sent it." “Quite correct,’’ commented the ambassador. “What name did she give?” “Nona," was the reply. “She said none was necessary.” The ambassador laid aside hat and coat and entered his office with a slightly puzzled expression on his face. (Standing before a window, gazing? idly out into the light-spangled i

night, was a young woman, rather tall and severely gowned in some rich, glistening stuff which fell away sheerly from her splendid bare shoulders, She turned and- he found himself looking into a pair of clear, blue-gray eyes, frank enough and yet in their very frankness possessing an alluring, indefinable subtlety. He would not have called her pretty, yet her smile, slight as it was, was singularly charming, and there radiated from her a something — personality, perhaps — which held his glance. He bowed low, and closed the door. “I am at your service, Madam,” he said in a tone of deep respect. “Please pardon my delay in coming to you.” “It is unfortunate that I didn’t write the first note,” she apologized graciously. “It Would at least have saved a little time. You have the card?” He produced it silently, crest down, and handed it to her. She struck a match, lighted the card, and it crumbled up in her gloved hand. The last tiny scrap found refuge in a silver tray, where she watched it burn to ashes, then she turned to the ambassador with a brilliant smile. He was still standing. “The dinner isn’t over yet?” she inquired. “No, Madam, not for another hour, perhaps.” “Then there’s no harm done,” she went on lightly. “The dinner isn’t of any consequence, but I should like very much to attend the ball afterward. Can you arrange it for me?” “I don’t know just how I would proceed, Madam,” the ambassador objected diffidently. “It would be rather unusual, difficult, I may say, and —” “But surely you can arrange it some way?” she interrupted demurely. “The highest diplomatic representative of a great nation should not find it difficult to arrange so simple a matter as—as this?” She was smiling. “Pardon me for suggesting it, Madam,” the ambassador ously, “but anything out of the usual attracts attention in Washington. I dare say, from the manner of your appearance to-night, that you would not care to attract attention to yourself.” She regarded him with an enigmatic smile. “I’m afraid you don’t know women, Count,” she said slowly, at last. “There’s nothing dearer to a woman’s heart than to attract attention to herJwllp i I \ The Handwriting Was Unmistakably That of a Woman. self.” She laughed—a throaty, silvery note that was charming. “And if yoji hesitate now, then to-morrow —why, to-morrow I am going to ask that you open to me all this Washington world —this brilliant world of diplomatic society. You see what I ask now is simple.” The ambassador was respectfully silent and deeply thoughtful for a time. There was, perhaps, something of resentment struggling within him, and certainly there was an uneasy feeling of rebellion at this attempt to thrust him fqrward against all precedent. “Your requests are of so extraordinary a nature that —” he began in courteous protestation. There was no trace of impatience in the woman’s manner; she was still smiling. “It is necessary that I attend the ball tonight,” she explained, “you may imagine how necessary when I say I sailed from Liverpool six days ago, reaching New York at half-past three o’clock this afternoon: and at halfpast four I was on my way here. I have been here less than one hour. I came from Liverpool especially that I might be present; and I even dressed on the train so there would be no delay. Now do you see the necessity of it?" Diplomatic procedure is along welloiled grooves, and the diplomatist who steps out of the rut for an instant happens upon strange and unexpected obstacles. Knowing this, the ambassador still hesitated. The woman apparently understood. “I had hoped that this would not be necessary,” she remarked, and she produced a small, sealed envelope. “Please read It.” The ambassador received the envelope with uplifted brows, opened it and read what was written on a folded sheet of paper. Some subtle working of his brain brought a sudden change in the expression of his face. There was wonder in it, and amazement, and more than these. Again he bowed low. “I am at your service, Madam,” he repeated. “I shall take pleasure in making any arrangements that are necessary. Again, I beg your pardon.” “And it will not be so very difficult, after all, will it?” she inquired, and she amlled'tauntingly. “It will not be at all difficult, Madam,” the ambassador assured her gravely. “I shall take steps at once to have an invitation issued to you for to-night; and to-morrow I shall be

pleased to proceed as you may suggest." She nodded. He folded the replaced it in the envelope and returned it to her with another deep bow. She drew her skirts about her and sat down; he stood. “It will be necessary for your name to appear on the invitation,” the ambassador went on to explain. “If you give me your name I’ll have my secretary—” “Oh, yes, my name,” she interrupted gaily. “Why, Count, you embarrass me. You know, really, I have no name. Isn’t it awkward?” “I understand perfectly, Madam,” responded the count. “I should have said a name.” She meditated a moment. “Well, say—Miss Thorne—Miss Isabel Thorne,” she suggested at last. “That will do very nicely, don’t you think?” “Very nicely, Miss Thorne,” and the ambassador bowed again. “Please excuse me a moment, and I’ll give my secretary Instructions how to proceed. There will be a delay of a few minutes.” He opened the door and went out. For a minute or more Miss Thorne sat perfectly still, gazing at the blank wooden panels, then she rose and went to the window again. In the distance, hazy in the soft night, the dome of the capitol rose mistily; over to the right was the congressional library, and out there where the lights sparkled lay Pennsylvania Avenue, a thread of commerce. Miss Thorne saw it all, and suddenly stretched out her arms with an all-enveloping gesture. She stood so for a minute, then they fell beside her, and she was motionless. Count di Rosini entered. “Everything is arranged, Miss Thorne,” he announced. “Will you go with me in my automobile, or do you prefer to go alone?” “I’ll go alone, please,” she answered after a moment. “I shall be there about eleven.” The ambassador bowed himself out. And so Miss Isabel Thorne came to Washington! (TO BE CONTINUED.) RETURN OF THE PILGRIMS Interesting Ceremonial When the Escort of the Sacred Carpet Gets Back to Cairo. Yesterday morning, writes the Cairo correspondent of the Queen, was devoted to watching the ceremonial return of the Mahmal ar.d its attendant escort of soldiers and pilgrims from Mecca. The sacred kiswe or carpet, which is the annual tribute from Cairo and which journeyed to Mecca with the pilgrims, has now taken its place as the covering of the Kaaba, while that which it replaced has already been divided as valuable mementos among ttje faithful. The ceremony of the return of the pilgrims as that of their departure is celebrated in the great Place Mohamet Ali, below the ramparts of the citadel, the square being outlined with Egyptian troops. The khedive was present of course yesterday with all his ministers and staff, and many of the European notables and a tremendous concourse of less important spectators were present to view the ceremony. The departure of the Mahmal took place so early in November that but few visitors were in The place to witness it, and as the Mohammedan calendar is nearly a fortnight shorter than ours, before long this interesting annual event will be relegated to the days of the early autumn, whereat the European element will be deprived of one of the few remaining purely Egyptian festivals. Statistics from Mecca this year state the number of pilgrims at the enormous figure of 90,051, out of which Egypt accounted for no less than 15,619. Precocious Infant. William Lyon Phelps tells this story about Robert Louis Stevenson, as Illustrating the cosmopolitanism of Russian character, which Professor Phelps says is' accountable, in a measure, for the international effect and Influence of Russian novels. Stevenson, writing from Mentone to his mother, 7 January, 1874, said: “We have two little Russian girls, with the youngest of whom, a little polyglot button of a three-year-old, 1 had the most laughable scene at lunch today. . . . She said something in Italian which made everybody laugh very much . . . after some examination, she announced emphatically to the whole table, in German, that I was a madchen. . . . This hasty conclusion as to my sex she was led afterward to revise ... but her opinion . , . was anpounced in a language quite unknown to me, and probably Russian. To complete the scroll of her accomplishments . . . she said good-by to me in very commendable English.” Three days later, Stevenson added, “The little Russian kid is only two and a half; she speaks six languages.” Woman National Bank Cashier. Miss E. M. Boynton has been elect- 5 ed cashier of the Bay Side, N. Y., National bank at a salary of $2,500 a year. Miss Boynton came from her home in the west to take a place as bookkeeper in a store-.at Bay Side. When the Bay Side National bank was organized she became assistant cashier and of late had filled the cashier’s place. Mrs. Minnie Y. Trlckey, president of the Commercial State bank of Rosedale, Kan., for several years, has been re-elected for another year. Mrs. Trickey is also city treasurer of Rosedale. Mrs. Ella Dodd Is said to be the only woman bank director in Delsware. She Is a director and one of the principal stockholders in the Lewis National bank. Mrs. Dodd is th* owner and manager of several prosperous farms.

the ORffIHY TO | SIDE ,W ‘ 1 1 1 ’ J GERMAN’S BIT OF STRATEGY Unknown Gentleman Puts One Over on Livery Stable Owner Who Was Inclined to Be Suspicious. A German gentleman wanted to take a day’s drive through the country. He applied to a stable for the horse and carriage. The owner, no| knowing the German, was slow to give him the team. Finally the German pulled out a roll of banknotes and said: “I wMI buy your horse and rig, provided you will buy them back at the same price when I return this evening.” The dealer, not wishing to offend a probable future customer, consented. When in the evening the German presented himself and expressed his pleasure at the ride, the dealer, according to agreement, paid him back his money, and the customer started to take his leave. “I beg your pardon, sir!” exclaimed the dealer; “but you have forgotten to pay for the hire, you know.” “Pay for the hire? Why, my dear sir,” coolly replied the German, “I fail to see that. If you will exercise your memory a trifle you will agree that I have been driving my own horse and carriage all day, and now you have bought them back they are yours. Good-day, sir!” And he left the astonished dealer to reflect. The Annual Question. “Well, Hawkins, old man,” said Witherbee, “has your wife decided where she will spend the summer?” “Yep,” said Hawkins. “She’s going abroad.” “So? And how about you?” “Well, I don’t know yet,” sighed Hawkins. “I haven’t decided whetheito stay in town or go into bankruptcy.”—Harper’s Weekly. A Gracious Concession. An old gentleman, evidently a stranger to London, stopped a youth hurrying along Piccadilly. “Young man,” ae said abruptly, “I want to go to Hyde park.” The youth seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Well,” he said at length, “you may go just this once. But you must never ask me again!” —Modern Society. Advertising the Mill. “There,” said Miss Smellman, who ivas shoeing her guest around Newport, “is the old mill about which Longfellow wrote his poem?” “The idea!” exclaimed Miss Porkham of Chicago. “I didn’t know he vrote advertising poetry at all.” — Catholic Standard and Times. HAD TASTED IT. wW j *■' • v G-eo a — x Mrs. Krusty—Woman's work is never done. Mr. Krusty—lf you refer to the bread you usually turn out, then that statement is true. Very Sympathetic. Widow—My husband, who so often helped you before, died a few months ago. Beggar—l sympathize with you very much, ma’am. You haven’t got a colored dress you could give me, I suppose.—Fliegende Blaetter. A Crying Educational Need. ‘ “Did you see where some professor says that children ought not to learn anything about fairy stories?” “Nonsense! How would they know how to reel ’em off all right when they needed to tell them later on in life?” The Refinement of Cruelty, “1 hear that poor dear Helen sued for divorce on the ground of cruel and unusual treatment.” “What was the cruelty?” “Her brute of a husband never gave her a chance to find fault with him.” Slender. “Is she slender?” “Slender? She can bathe in a fountain pen.”—Sphinx.

HIS LEG WAS MADE OF CORK Young Commercial Traveler Locea Bet on Question of Endurance • of Men of Present Day. They were sitting in the smoking room of the hotel, and the conversation was about endurance as shown by men of the past and present. During a lull in the conversation a young commercial traveler said: “Any man, if he has the will-power, can endure pain or fatigue; I know I can.” There was silence for a moment, and an older man replied: “I’ll wager a dinner you can’t hold your foot —boot on—in a bucket of hot water as long as I can.” The offer was taken, and two buckets of hot water were brought in, us well as a kettle of boiling water to raise the temperature to the point of endurance. In went a foot of each contestant. Soon the young man’s face began to pale, but the othei called for more boiling water. “What on earth is your leg made of, sir?” said the formdfr, suddenly taking his foot from the bucket. “Cork, sir—cork!” was the cool answer, and the other felt that he had indeed lost. Nothing Doing. The bill collector had made another call at the humble dwelling of Bernard Palissy. “Is your husband at home, madam ?’• he asked. “He is in his workshop, I think,’ answered the wife. “Pottering around as usual, I suppose.” « There being no broomstick or other piece of wood in the house, the indignant woman chased him out with a flatiron. KNEW HER RING. ' zAa / f V ll 1) Mrs. Smith —I have rung at Mrs. Jones’ door three times this week, and I didn’t succed in arousing anyone. I suppose the family is out of town. Mrs. Brown —Possibly. But Mrs. Jones was telling me this morning that she could tell your ring among a thousand. Or Anybody’s. “I saw Mrs. Gaddie downtown early this morning and she told me she was on her way to the office. I didn’t know she was interested in any business.” “Oh, yes; she has always been in-terested-in any business.”—Catholic Standard and Times. Disturbed, but Not Rattled. Irate Father (coming upon them suddenly)—What do you mean, sir, by embracing my daughter? The Young Man —Miss Clarice and I are rehearsing the love scene in a little amateur drama our club is to present shortly. Fine evening, isn’t it, Mr. Jordle? ’ i * An Enforced Rest. Gibbs—l wasn’t going to take any vacation this summer, but the boss insisted. v Ihbbi—You don’t say! How long a vacation do you get? Gibbs —As long as it takes me to find another job. A New Ending. “Have you lived here all your life?” asked the early bird. “Not yet,” grinned the earlier viorm. “Already,” quoth the early bird as he gobbled up the earlier worm.”— Puck. “Made in Germany," Perhaps “I wonder if these ruins are very ancient,” murmured the professor. “Not so very,” said the experienced member of the party. “They have been put up since I was here last year,” A Fish Story. First Fisherman —That fellow must have been kidding me. Second Fisherman—What fellow? First Fisherman —The one who told me that the fish in this stream bit so greedily that you had to go behind a tree to bait the hook—Exchange. Good Reason. >* “When the judge. granted her prayer for divorce and awarded her SIOO,OOO alimony I was astounded.” “So was I until I learned that she and the judge were engaged.”—Exchange The Only Explanation. “Mr. and Mrs. Brown are on excellent terms.” “You don’t tell me!” “They are, really." “When were they divorced!"

KANSASJJSES POET Recent Death of “Ironquill” Re« moves State’s Laureate. Modest Verse Writer Who Assumed Pen Name for Fear People Would Not HTre “Fool Poet” as Attorney. Fort Scott, Kan. —Kansas lost her poet laureate when Eugene F. Ware died at his summer home in Colorado and western literature lost one of its brightest geniuses. Ware, known as “Ironquill,” was a harness maker, lawyer, politician and poet. In the minds of his friends the last should come first, but personally he always belittled his ability as a poet, and instead of being proud ft’ his success he spoke disparagingly ol his verses. In this he was alone. He came to this city in 1867 and began to work at his trade as a harness maker. A competitor was advertising, so Ware had to do the same. He went his competitor several better by writing his advertisements in verse. This attracted attention and he went to Topeka, where he wrote poetry and studied law, keeping his identity as a poet under cover. His explanation for this was: “I was afraid people wouldn’t hire a fool poet for a lawyer.” There were plenty of harness makers, but very few lawyers in Fort Scott and that was the reason Ware deserted the stitching horse Os his shop and took up the study of law. In his profession he was successful. As he practiced law he played the po- '■- Iltical game in a quiet, dignified way, being finally rewarded with an appointment as commissioner of pensions. After two years in Washington he returned to Kansas and took up his residence in Kansas City, Kan. Tiring of city life, he retired shortly before bls death to Sungold Section, a fine farin he acquired when he first came to Kansas, and there he told his friends he hoped “to die in the open.” His plans to die on the farm failed, for he passed away soon after reaching Colorado, where he had been in the habit of spending the summers at a place he owned on the Cascade. He was well entitled to the appointment of pension commissioner, for during the Civil war he had a brilliant career covering four years and ending as captain of a troop in the Seventh lowa cavalry. For one brief period Captain Ware was in the newspaper business. This was in Burlington, la., where for a time, he was assistant editor of the Hawkeye and started that paper on its road to celebrity as a funny paper. When Captain Ware retired “Bob” Burdette succeeded him and the paper became much quoted for its funny sayings. Ware was born in 1841 in Hartford, Conn., and was married in 1874 to Miss Jeanette B. Huntington. For many years he was a familiar figure in Topeka during session of the Kansas legislature and his wit and humor made him much beloved, both by polical friends and opponents. He was a member of the legislature in the early 'Bos. When he left the office of pension commissioner he wanted to show his appreciation of 12 heads of departments under him. He bought 12 handsome pieces of silver, exactly alike, called the 12 men into his office where the souvenirs were lined up on a table and said: “Gentlemen. You have been good to me. Help yourselves.” . The appointment of Ware to be commissioner of pensions was due to Roosevelt’s admiration for his poems. In 1900, when Roosevelt was on his way to the southwest to attend a reunion of Rough Riders, he expressed a desire to meet “Ironquill” and a message was sent to Ware asking him to meet the train and travel with the president. He did so and the friendship between the Rough Rider colonel and the frontier poet was promptly evident and sincere. Three years later Ware was appointed commissioner of pensions. He leaves a widow, one son, Eugene F. Ware, Jr., and three daughters, Mrs. Abbie Neiss of New York, Mrs. S. R. Nelson and Miss Amelia Ware. Teeth and Baldness. Paris, France. —According to Dr. Lucien Jacquet, there is a close connection between bad teeth and baldness. He declared about one-fourth of the cases of premature baldaess ar* of dental origin.

The Army of Constipation Is Growing Smaller Every Day. CARTER’S LITTLE LIVER PILLS are responsible — they not only.give relief a qtCD'C — they Derma- j IKO WjTTLE stipafion. Mi 1- Hl VER lions g PILLS. them for Hbafli Biliousness, — • Indigestion, Sick Headache, Sallow Skin. | SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICE. Genuine must bear Signature DEFIANCE —other starches only 12 ounces—same price aal •'DEFIANCE' 1 IS SUPERIOR QUALITY. FOR CA9 F Now and slightly used fire and buras vil vnLfa lar proof safes for store, ofliee 01 homo. Add.TRIUMPH SAFiI UO..Connersville,lad. EVIDENTLY SHE WAS ANNOYED Good Wife’s Punishment, Intended for Husband, Poor Compensation to Revivalist. , A popular revivalist had been holding services at a town in Mississippi when a heavy rain came on, and he accepted an invitation to pass the night at the house of one of the townsmen. Observing the preacher’s drenched clothing, the host brought out a suit of his own and sent his guest upstairs to don it. The good man had made the change and was on his way back to the sit | ting room, when the woman of th* house came out of another room, holding in her hands the nig family Bible, out of which the minister was to be Invited to read a chapter before the family went to bed. She wa? not, however, in a very amiable frame of mind, for careful housewives are likely to be put out of. sorts by the advent of unexpected ' company. Seeing the revivalist in his I borrowed garments, she mistook him for her husband, and as he passed in front of her she lifted the book and brought it down sharply on hisj head. “There!” she exclaimed. "Take that for asking io stayall night!” | —Lippincott’s Magazine. Exhibition of Real Faith. William Spill’s little girl, who had been playing at making mud pies, aided by a tiny sprinkling can for a reservoir, ran to her father as he alighted from a car, bearing a package of dry-cleaned wearing apparel. I Pointing to her muddy little boots Father Spill admonished his tiny daughter, impressing her with the value neat appearance. That night the young lady offered her usual prayer with great earnestness. “And don’t forget, dear Lord,” she prayer fervently, “to dry-clean our street, and my shoes, for Jesus’ sake, amen!” —Cleveland Leader. An Undefinable Definition. A few days after school opened in the spring a teacher in a Brooklyn school was testing the members of one of her old classes on what they had remembered of the definitions she had taught them during the preceding term. Finally shfe asked the bright boy of the class this question: “Now. Robert, tell me what a hypocrite is?” “A hypocrite,” replied Robert without hesitation, “is a kid w’at comes to school wit’ a smile on hfs mug.” Distressing. “Here is the account of a poor woman who lost both arms in a railroad wreck.” “It must be dreadful to go through life without any arms.” “Yes, indeed. And much worse for a woman than for a man.” “How is that?” “Well, a woman without any arms can't reach around to feel if the back of her collar and the back of her belt are all right.” STRONGER THAN MEAT ’ A Judge’s Opinion of Grape-Nuts. A gentleman who has acquired a judicial turn of mind from experience on the bench out in the Sunflower State writes a carefully considered opinion as to the value of Grape-Nuts as food. He says: “For the past 5 years Grape-Nuts has been a prominent feature in our bill of fare. “The crisp food with the delicious, nutty flavor has become an indispensable necessity in my family’s everyday life. “It has proved to be most healthful and beneficial, and has enabled us to practically abolish pastry and pies from our table, for the children prefer Grape-Nuts, and do not crave rich and. unwholesome food. “Grape-Nuts keeps us all in perfect physical condition —as a preventive of disease it is beyond value. I have been , particularly impressed by the beneficial effects of Grape-Nuts when used by ladies who are troubled with face blemishes, skin eruptions, etc. It clears up the complexion wonderfuHy. “As to its nutritive qualities, my experience is that one small dish of Grape-Nuts is superlpr to a pound of meat for breakfast, which is an important consideration for anyone. It satisfies the appetite and strengthens the power of resisting fatigue, while its use involves none of the disagreeable consequences that sometimes follow a meat breakfast.” Name given by Poßtum Co., Battle Creek, Mich. Read the little book, “The Road to WellviHe,” in pkgs. “There’s a reason.” Ever read the above letter! A aew one appears from time to tlm®* They are cenulne, true, and toll *1 bumaa Intereat. 1