The Syracuse Journal, Volume 5, Number 16, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 15 August 1912 — Page 7

NO MAN’S v LAND A MWKE j9k>IOUIS JOSEPH VANCE BY

SYNOPSIS. Garrett Coast, a young man of New Toric City, meets Douglas Blackstock, who Invites him to a card party. He accepts, although, he dislikes Blackstock, the reason being that both are in love with Katherine Thaxter. Coast fails to convince n<“" that Blackstock Is unworthy of her friendship. At the party Coast meets two named Dundas and Van TuyL There is a quarrel, and Blackstock shoots van Tuvl dead. Coast struggles to wrest the Weapdn from him. thus the police discover them. Coast is arrested for muMr. He Is convicted, but as he begins his sentence. Dundas names Blackstock as the murderer and kills himself. Coast becomes free, but Blackstock has manned Katherine Thaxter and fled. Coast purchases a yacht and while sailing sees a man thrown from a distant boat. He rescues the fellow who is named Appleyard. They arrive at a lonely island, known as No Man’s Band. Coast starts outdo ex- > plore the place and comes upon some deserted buildings. He discovers a man dead. Upon going further and approaching a house he sees Katherine "Phaxter, who explains that her husband, under the name of Black, has bought the island. He is blind, a wireless operator and has a station there. Coast informs her that her husband mdrdered Van TuyL Coast •ees Blackstock and some Chinamen burying a man. They fire at him. but he Is rescued by Appleyard, who gets him to the Echo tn safety, and there he reveals that he is a secret service man and has been watching the crowd on the island, suspecting they are criminals. Coast is anxious to fathom the mysteries of No Man’s Land, and is determined to save Katherine. Appleyard believes that Black and his gang make a shield of the wireless station to conduct a smug-’ l g'.ing business. Coast penetrates to the ’fair of Blackstock's disguise. Katherine enters the room and passes him a not' 1 which tells Coast that neither his life . or her own are safe. Coast feels that Blackstock Suspects him. Appleyard and ; the Echo disappear. Coast assures Kath- > erine <>f his protection, and she informs , him that they are to abandon the island , immediately. The blind man and his I coolie servant overpower Coast, who aft- ; erward escapes and is met by Katherine. : wishing to flee. They discover a yawl i , but before they can reach it the coolie | disables the craft. Black appears and ; tauntingly states that he is no longer blind. Hr is overpowered, and Coast and Katherine fly from the spot, and go to a remote part of the island and signal a boat which they see in the distance. Appleyard and the Echo appear. * CHAPTER XX.— (Continued.) . Coast, as prompt to take alarm, had? instantaneously imitated her 'action. , Wheeling, weapon poised, he discow ( ered the shadowed shape of a man running toward them—or. rather. : staggering, for he seemed badly ■ winded —leaping and reeling through the undulations of the low, formless » dunes, whose soft and yielding substance had deadened the sound at. his approach until he was almost upon the two. At Katherine’s call he flung up one hand as if to signify a peaceful intent, but came on at unabated speed. "Don’t shoot!" he pleaded hoarsely. “I’m unarmed —’’ Beth knew that voice too well. The woman's figure straightened to rigidity. "Stop!” she repeated, imperative. inflexible. "Stop, Douglas, or—” Coast threw out a hand and deflected the muzzle of her weapon. “Don’t,” he said aside; “if it comes to that, let me attend to him! . . . Blackstock!”Jhe cried curtly. "Stand wlie.Te you are!” At this the man pulled up at a distance of a few feet, within the radius of lantern light. “Steady!” he begged between gasps. “I’ve . . . beaten ’em out. . . . Plenty of time. . “What’s your game now?” demanded Coast coldly, his attention distracted by the comforting sound of dipping oars and squealing rowlocks behind « him. "Game!” The man’s eyes caught a curious glint of light from the lantern as they shifted swiftly, glancing sidelong. “Game!” he iterated in broken and hollow tones. “I’m in no shape for games now! For God’s sake don’t be hard on me. I’ve come to give my•elf up—to surrender.” His announcement feh like a thunderclap. Momentarily Coast discredited his sense of hearing. “Surrender?” he muttered, incredulous. “You?” He cast a quick, cautious look round. There was no one else within the limits of his vision—not a figure nor a moving shadow. His gaze returned to the huge, quaking shape before them: Blackstock in a panic, trembling with fear and exhaustion, his plump face turned a pasty, unwholesome shade and largely blotched with dull, burning red, eyes like knots •bowing too much white and rolling restlessly, loose mouth a-quiver, hands •baking, breath coming and going ■With a sound resembling the exhaust of a skipping motor. ‘The devil!” •aid Coast to himself; and aloud in accents hard’and unrelenting: “You’d best explain . . .?” With a sudden movement, the woman touched his arm. “Don’t trust him, Garrett!” she exclaimed. “You don’t know him— Sen’t, don’t trust him!” “I’ve no intention —” Coast began. Incontinently they were treated to ihe incongruous spectacle of Blackctock on his knees, humbling himself first to the woman, then to the man he had wronged, fat, mottled, tremulaus hands imploring them. “No!” be prayed, coarsely pitiful. “Don’t •ay it! Have a little pity! My God! lon’t you know I’m dying? Don’t leave me here to die like a dog, in the name of mercy!” “Dying . . Coast repeated, while Katherine bent forward, peering •teadily into the man’s face. “What fi*you mean by ‘dying ?’ ” “Don’t you understand —can’t you •ae?” The plump, spotted hands fumbled at his throat; for the first time Coast remarked that it was bandaged, and began to comprehend what frightful fear was bringing the man to his feet. “That damn’ dog,” Blackstock breathed convulsively—“he’s’ done for me, if I don’t get help—medical help— Quick. He’s torn my throat to tat- * tars,” he whispered; “I’m poisoned, poisoned! If you leave me here. I’ll go mad and die mad —hydrophobia! Good God, have pity I” He broke down completely for a moment or two, whining and blubbering and wringing his hands. It was plain that he was badly frightened, and not without reason. Coast glanced at she Wore a face of doubt mirroring his pirn perplexity, but when she caught

his eye upon her, responded with • nod and a shrug. “I think we’ll have to . . he said, tentative. “Os course,” she answerd listlessly. Blackstock!” At Coast's sharp and frigid address, the man quieted abruptly, and apparently coming to a realization of .the spectacle he was making of himself, got slowly and shame-facedly* 1 to his feet. “If we agree to take you off the island, you know what it means? I’ll turn you over to the police, first place we stop.” "I don’t care,” Blackstock asserted eagerly. “I don’t care a damn. I’ll go anywhere, do anything—go to the chair, if I have to —work out my life in the pen—anything but stay here and go mad. I’ve been a cur, I know, but for the love of God don’t leave me to die like one —” “Hel-lo!” Behind the trio the keel of a rowboat grated on the sand, and Appleyard jumped briskly ashore, trotting up. painter in hand. “What’s this?” he demanded briskly. “Hello, Coast! Madam, your servant . . . Now. what’s the row?” He put himself in the center of the

' r TpW w m 1 [ I l ~~~~ Drove the Dory Swiftly Toward the Echo.

group, bright watchful eyes diagnosing one expression after another on the countenances round him; with something in his pose and manner singularly suggestive of an exceptionally Intelligent and inquisitive magpie. Coast dropped a hand affectionately on his shoulder. “Thank heaven, you’re here last,” he said. “And here’s your prisoner—take him in the name of the law and for the sake of peace. He’s been badly bitten first by a dog and then by fright, and he wants to give himself up and be sent to a hospital.” “Oh, that’s it, eh? I heard a bit of the confab while rowing in, and it listened uncommon’ interestin’; but I couldn’t figure out what was at the bottom of it all. Well, well, Mr. Blackstock!” The little man rubbed his hands. “I’m glad to come up with you. This is more fun than a goat, for sure. Come!” He jerked his perky little head toward the tender. “Jump in, and I’ll hurry you to market.” A sullen look replaced the terror that had masked Blackstock’s face. He sighed and with a brief, uncertain nod, apparently directed at Coast, collected himself and trudged heavily toward the boat, entering which' he squatted silently in the stern.

Tempting Marks for Bolts

Lofty Spires of Churches Are Dangerous Because They Are Often Struck by Lightning. The reaction from the intense heat of the past few days, which in various sections has taken the form of electrical storms of almost phenomenal destructiveness, has played exceptional havoc with the churches of New England. As many as a half dozen have been struck by lightning in this state alone, and in almost every instance the structure has been of the familiar style of architecture that was instituted by our forefathers and has been more or less cherished ever since. Somewhat squarely touilt, with a lofty spire, the New England meeting house has been a familiar feature to the New England worshiper wherever he might find himself, and though all else was strange, that made him feel that he was in his own country. The lofty spire, however, has proved an element of danger according to our recent experience. In almost every instance, as the reports run, the bolt “struck the steeple” and traveled downward. In rural communities, especially where the church rises above most of the surrounding buildings and is crowned by a tapering tower as high

/ Appleyard’s eye* eought Coasfe The younger man lifted his shoulder* disclaiming honor or responsibility. “When the devil was sick,” he quoted in disgust, lowering his tone. “Keep an eye on him.” “Wel-1, rawther,” Appleyard drawled. “But he won’t try any monkeyshines aboard the Echo —or I never saw a man afraid of his sins before. . . . Madam,” he added, turning with a curious little courtly bow to the woman, “if you’ll step in”—his glance traveled past her down the beach —“we’ll beat that pack to the mainland. I see,” he said, “they’re launching a long-boat What kind of a yarn explains that, please?” Coast recounted with exceptional brevity the wrecking of the schooner, at the same time stepping into the boat and placing himself at the oars, on the middle seat. Katherine sat forward, behind him, and Appleyard, pushing off, scrambled aft and dropped down beside Blackstock, who sulkily moved to one side to make room for him. “Look lively, Mr. Coast,” he little man advised pleasantly. “We really haven’t got a minute to spare—those chaps are laying to their oars as 11 they really wanted to scrape acquaintance with us. Or perhaps,” he suggested with a look askance at Blackstock, “my cheerful prisoner can account fqr this apparent mad anxiety of theirs to bid their dis —, I mean extinguished leader a fond farewell.” Blackstock, fumbling nervously at his bandaged throat, made no answer. Coast, bending all his strength to the oars, drove the dory swiftly toward the Echo.

“Blackstock,” said Appleyard, ironic, “what you got in that neat little bag between your feet? The conventional pyjamas and toothbrush, what?" The tormented man at his side grumbled something inarticulate. “Did I understand you to imply it’s none of my business? How extraordinarily rude, Mr. Blackstock! Besides being untrue —quite a naughty fib. In addition to which it’s uncalled for; I know.” “You know?” Blackstock turned tc hifn with a scowl. “Sure. I can put two and a millstone together and make n. hole in a ladder just as easy as take a silk purse out of a souse’s ear. It wouldn’t be you, Mr. Blackstock,” Appleyard continued without giving his victim time to analyze this astonishing state ment—“it just wouldn’t be you if you didn’t try to hand your friends the double-cross. That bag’s stuffed with 100t —the best part of the truck they were running this trip— a dollar. And that’s why, you see, they’re so infatuated with the idea ol shaking your hand and wringing your neck before you get away; they’ve just discovered your perfidy. But don’t you fret. Here we are and long before they can drive that seine-boat this far we’ll be sailing merrily away.” (TO BEL CONTINUED.)

as the main structure, it seems to offer a special challenge to the raging elements, whether they take th form of wind or lightning. The “White church” at West Springfield, which suffered yesterday, had been struck twice previously dur ing the past ten years, and In Wilbraham, Brookfield and other places it was upon the spires that the destructive force alighted.—Bostor Transcript This Is Slumber Land. Here is a story about the soothing quality of Flatbush air, says the Brooklyn Eagle. Newcomers to Flatbush notice first of all that they dirntt seem able to get sleep enough. AL first they have an idea that perbeni it’s the malaria, but it is only tnc. heavy sea air which induces slumber. A new resident in Flatbush asked some friends of his in the district il the experience was a common 7 one. “Oh, yes,” was the reply, “that 11 the case with everybody who move« here. A certain woman who lives no| far from Eighteenth avenue started to make three beds one, morning at nine o’clock. At seven o’clock that night she had not yet made the third. Th« beds looked so inviting and I was sc tired,' she explained, That whenevei I came to one I lay down and slept M IL"

I The Denial of Christ’s Resurrection | and. Its Results By Rev. William Evans, D. D., | Director Bible Courae of Mooflr Bible Wtute. I Chicago TEXT—I Cor. 15:14-13, 29-32—“ And ff Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain. Yea, and we are found false witnesses of God; because we have testified of God that he raised up Christ; whom he raised not up. if so be that the dead rise not. For if the dead rise not, then is not Christ raised: And if Christ be not raised, your faith is vain: ye are yet in your sins.” In the last address on this subject we saw that the denial of Christ’s res-

urrection made our preaching vain, our faith vain, and left us still in our sins. We now proceed to set forth some further results of such denial. IV. If Christ be not risen from the dead then we are found false witnesses. The word “found” means to be detected or dis-

-> v i£y

covered ’in . the prepetration of a fraud. It is a word used for judgments regarding moral character and conduct, and conveys the idea of discovering and detecting forgery and falsity. In using this word, the apostle would say that in proclaiming to the Corinthians the doctrine of the resurrection of Christ, he and the other apostles had been guilty of perpetrating fraud upon them. If Christ be not risen, then the apostles are false witnesses; not witnesses deluded, mistaken, deceived, the victims of an hallucination, which was the result of an over-wrought brain and imagination, but false witnesses. Deluded! say the apostle, we cannot be; victims of an over-wrought imagination, innocent but deceived enthusiasts—all this im Impossible, we are down-right deceivers; we have willingly, knowingly perpetrated a fraud upon the Church in claiming that Christ rose from the dead; we are down-right deceivers. The strange thing about the apostle’s statement is that the idea of delusion or hallucination is wholly absent from his argument. does not seem to have occurred to him to mention it. Even the possibility of it is too remote to be spoken of. To the apostle, the resurrection of Christ is a truth or a falsehood, a reality of a fraud, a thing of sincerity or of deceit, a fact or a mistake. There is no loophole of escape—the resurrection is either a fact or a falsehood, a reality or a sham, and such persons as the apostles were guilty of perpetrating it. Paul feels that the stigma of falsehood has been put upon him. He feels that he has been stung by an insult. Somebody has not believed him —has made him out to be a liar. His testimony in effect Is this: I have seen the risen Christ; I have talked with him; I have received my commission from him. To challenge my statement is to challenge my character, my veracity, my understanding, my reason. Paul and the other apostles testified to the fact that Christianity, as they had received it and preached it, was built not only upon a professed revelation from God, but also upon an historical basis —on the fact that Christ really arose from the dead, and that the risen Lord has been seen by them and had spoken to them. To deny this testimonj’ was virtually to call Paul and the other apostles liars and false witnesses. Is it credible, says the apostle, that knowing me and the other apostles as you do that you can believe such a charge* V. If Christ be not risen from the dead then we have no God who is worthy of our trust. To attribute to a person a good or glorious act, which it is well known that he never performed, is to cause that person to be suspected of having prompted the false assertion. So the testimony of the „apostle would lead men to think that God had inspired men to tell lies about him. Many think that they can still have faith in God, that they still have left a God whom they can trust and in whom they can repose their faith, even though they do not accept the resurrection of Jesus Christ. The apostle says plainly, This is not so; if we have no risen Christ, neither have we a God in whom we can trust. Note the serious point here. “Paul preached, God, he commended God, and the justice of God as shown in raising hia holy son from the dead. But if Jesus Christ is not risen from the dead, then we have no such God. If one like Jesus Christ is still left dead, if one be so good as Jesus was and still be deprived of life, what kind of a God have we? We have no God in whom we can trust; it is no use trying to be good. The end is a skull and a few ashes. ‘We have testified of God,’ says Paul, ‘we have justified God, but we are found false witnesses of him if Jesus Christ did not rise from the dead. Have you considered what that ''point means? The modern man often assumes that he is already in possesion of a- God with a reliable character, whatever you make of Jesus Christ. But there is something in the career and in the issue of the career of Jesus Christ that makes a good God in this tragic world incredible unless Christ be risen from the dead. Jesus went through the worst suffer- 1 ings that any man ever suffered. Hei sounded the depths of the- world’s, tragedy. Now if he has been raised from the dead we may believe in God; but if there be no resurrection of the spotless Christ, then God is either dead or mad. We have no reasonable God left.”

Subjugating Peter ! | By PHIJ.JP KEAN || (Copyright, 1913, by Associated Literary Press.) “He’s a woman hater,” said Phyllis. “Why?” Peggy was curled upon the foot of the bed. She had on a pink crepe kimono and pointed Turkish slippers embroidered in silver. "Why should any man be a woman hater ?” she demanded again. “A girl jilted him,” said Phyllis, ’when he was only twenty-one. We are all crazy about him, but it doesn't lo any good.” “Why crazy?” , “You’d be, too, Peggy, if you could 'see him. He’s tall and athletic and he wears the most correct clothes — mostly white flannels or rough Norfolk things that make him look picturesque. But you might as well try to get near a hermit. He never looks at a woman.” “Oh, doesn’t he?” Peggy uncurled herself and crossed the room. She stood in front of her dresser and gazed, long and earnestly into the mirror. “Doesn’t he?” she said again. “Now, Peggy.” Phyllis said, regarding her thoughtfully, “you needn’t think—” . Peggy turned and looked at her. “I don’t think,” she said, "I know.” “But other girls have failed to subjugate him,” said Phyllis; “way should you expect to succeed.” “I’m not going to try,” said Peggy, deliberately, “to make him fall in love with me—l’m not quite such a—shallow thing as that. Phyllis. I3ut I’m going to make him notice me. aad I’m going to do it in a perfectly ladylike fashion.” Phyllis surveyed her wrathfully. “It would do you good to be brought down from your stilts, Peggy,” she stated. Peggy crossed the room swiftly and threw her arms around her friend’s neck. “Don’t you love me, Phyllis, darling?” she demanded. Phyllis kissed her. “Yes. I love you, and that’s why—l hope—he’ll bring you down from your stilts —Peggy” And the next morning Peggy watched Peter Powell, millionaire and bachelor, saunter forth for a walk, leaving behind him on the hotel porch a line of exquisitely gowned and graceful girls, among whom were Phyllis and herself. Peggy turned to Phyllis. “What are the habits of —the creature?” she demanded. Phyllis considered. “He walks a great deal. Before breakfast he tramps toward the top of the mountain with his dogs. Then, about this time, he goes fishing; in the afternoon he rides, and at nights he trarr ps off again with his dogs.” “Sociable being,” remarked Peggy. Two days later, Peter, climbing the mountain to see the sun rise came to an empty log hut. Lived in, long ago, by a mountain family, it had been deserted for years. But now there was smoke coming from the open, and among the .shadows he could see an old colored woman moving heavily back and forth. Wondering a little, he went on and up. As he reached the summit a rosy glow overspread the world, and in that transfiguring light his eyes made out the form of a woman. She was picking wild blackberries and she t ad on a pink sunbonnet. She seeued young and slender, but her faded gingham gown hid the lines of her figure. Peter, wondering a little to find her there so early, whistled to his dogs and went on. When he had passed the girl raised her head and looked at him, then she laughed gleefully End fled back down the mountain. Whei£ Peter came once more to the log hut, the front door was open. A table was set within the little porch. It was a quaint old table of polished mahogany. In the center was a silver bowl full of wild roses. Another silver bowl held blackberries., The old colored woman came out with cream and butter and nodded to Peter. “You mus’ come up and git yo’ breakfas’ here,” she saiid; “we’s goin’ to serve folks what want?, somethin’ different from the hotel.” Peter stopped. ’ “Do you mean,” he asked, eagerly, “that I can have breakfast now ?” The old woman nodded. “Deed you can,” she said, “an’ I’ll have waffles if yo’ want ’um.” She vanished and Peter took his place at the table, noting the fineness of the linen and the exquisiteness of the silver. The dogs lay at bis feet, .but raised their heads an a girl came out with light step. It was the girl he bad seen on "he mountain top. Her sunbonnet was off, and her brown hair was braided tn one long braid that fell below her waist. Her faded gingham gown was turned in neatly at the neck, tnd showed her white throat.

CONVEX MIRROR DID THE JOB Diabolical Conception Peculiar to Summer Resorts Cured Little Bobby of Vanity. Bobby, a little New Yorker, had his first real boy clothes. He was no longer a girl. The Ignominy of skirts had departed afar off. He had emerged into the dignity of a suit—knickers (nd Norfolk jacket, with a belt—the real thing, tending toward the estate of :“big man.” The elation which is usual on such occasions were augmented in Bobby’s case by the fact that he had a large number of relatives, mostly feminine, who rejoiced with him and who were loud in their expressions of approval. “How well he looks!” “Doesn’t he look handisome?” “He’ll soon be a real man!” p‘How becoming his new clothes ar a!” and similar auntie rhapsodies soon had Bobby’s masculine vanity werking overtime. I In the afternoon of the same day Bobby was taken by the-large und ■admiring family to Coney Island. This < ■.

She spoke to Peter. “Aunt Dilsey wants to know if you will have chicken or trout? I am afraid we shall have to ask you to wait i little.” Peter was on his feet at once. “Tell her I’ll have the trout by all means — and I don’t mind the waiting if there are to be waffles at the end of it.” Peggy caught her breath —for Peggy it was. She had not dreamed that he could be so charming. Yet he hated—women. Peter seeing the flush on her; cheeks, talked lightly to set her at ease. “You should have opened a place farther down,” he said, “not many of the hotel guests get up here; it’s too much of a climb.” “Oh, I know,” she breathed. “I don’t expect many—but Aunt Dilsey thought that a few—would help.” “Is there just you—and Aunt Dilsey?” be asked. “Yes.” The breakfast was delicious. The waffles were as light as a feather, the coffee perfect. The girl who waited on the table blushed as he asked the price of his breakfast. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, “you see, we are just beginning.” “Half of that,” she quavered, when he offered her a dollar, and when he had gone she flew out to Aunt Dilsey. “You take it,” she said. “Oh, I didn’t dream it would be so dreadful!” The next morning Peter came again. “Do you have many customers?’’ “Not yet—” Phyllis was mystified. “Where are you, Peggy?” seh demanded in letters mailed to a distant postoffice. "Ever since you disappeared I have been wild to know what you are doing. And what about Peter? Aren’t you coming back to subjugate him?” But Peter showeij no signs of subjugation. He was considerate add polite, but nothing more. Then came one Sunday morning, with Aunt Dilsey sick, and Peggy all in a flutter. “Oh, will you help me—please?” she begged, as Peter came up to tho porch; "we need a doctor—” The doctor found Aunt Dilsey so ill that he stayed for hours, and downstairs Peter helped a white-faced girl to hold on to her self-control. “You see,” she whispered, “she nursed me when I was a baby— She’s my dear old mammy—and there’s no one else.” Presently Peter asked: “Do you mean that there is no one else who loves you ?” “Yes.” “There is some one else,” saitj Peter steadily. “I love you.” Peggy sobbed wildly. “Oh. you mustn’t —you don’t know what I am—you don’t know.” “I do know," he said, and his grave face was illijtnined. “I know that you are very dear and sweet.” “I’m not,” she stood up and faced him. “Hush,” sternly, “there is nothing you can do which will make you—unworthy—” “I’m not poor,” Peggy lips were white. “I am rich, I came to the hotel down there—and everybody said you were a woman hater, and —I made up my mind that I’d show you that —• one woman —could —” His face was white now. “Then you made all of this elatgjrEfte preparation —to subjugate me?” “Oh, not in the way you think. I didn’t dream that you would love md —that you were so fine —so wonderful —” “Look at me,” he said, masterfully, “and tell me the truth. You say that you have found me—fine. Do you mean that you could love me?” “I mean,” she said, steadily, “that I do love you—that all my life my heart must ache, when I think how you despise me.” In that moment of despair she felt herself enfolded by two strong arms. “Would you cling to me in riches — or in poverty—in sickness or in health —is your love of that sort, Peggy?” She hid her face against his arm. “My love is my life,” she whispered. His Parents’ Church. Dr. David Bokhof of the Swope settlement in Kansas City was enrolling ; several boys for the privilege of the I various departments of the institution the other day. One particularly restless, tousle-headed little fellow was being questioned by the doctor. “And what religion do your parents profess?” asked the doctor. There was silence. “Don’t you know what church your father and mother belong -to?” came the second question. “Sure I do!” blurted out the boy. “All right, which is it?” “They belong to the Turnerverein,” proudly answered the young scion of the clan of Germania.” A White Light Impression. “I understand that some of the New York streets were originally paths followed by the cows,” said a man with a guide book. “Is that so!” replied the Broadway policeman. “Well, those old Dutch settlers must have had some sporty cattle.” And yet there is nothing to show that Noah ever growled about the weather.

was a more than ordinarily good opportunity to show off and Bobby made the most of it. Not one of the family realized that thus far the young man had not seen his transformed self in a mirror. One of the first things they encountered at Coney was a large mirror of the convex variety, and one of the aunties delightedly steered Bobby In front of it, while the family looked on with suppressed smiles. Bobby looked. A puzzled, disturbed expression spread over his face. He looked at the family and they yere all as solemn as ghosts. “How do you like your new clothes?” one ol them asked. Bobby made no reply He looked at himself, s then at the mirror again, then turned away, in cold dignity, but from that day to this vanity is a quality which makes its appearance no more in Bobby’S mentality. The Plant In His Garden. “Is that plant I see In your a perennial or an annual?” “Neither. It’s a failure.”—Answer* London. -

Sharp Pains In the Back Point to Hidden w Kidney Trouble. " Have you a ZV lame back, achIng day and fwlZSs nigW? Do you feel a sharp pain after pA bending ever? H \ When the kid- ik neys seefu sore ———i and the action I Irregular, ti s e W Doan’s Kidney 11 Pills, which have cured thousands. An Illinois Case i H. IT. Davis, 205 Commercial St, Danville, 111, says: “I was completely laid up with kidney trouble and rheumatism. I spent several weeks in the hospital but was not helped. As a last resort, I began using Doan’s Kidney Pills and was entirely cured. I have had no trouble since.” Get Doan’s at any Drug Store, 50c. a Box Doan’s K &*ir

BEYOND LIMIT OF PATIENCE Uses of the Telephone Will Be Apt to Condone Mr. Busiman’s Brief Less of Temper. He was just about exasperated with the telephone, was Mr. Busiman. Ten times that morning he had tried to get on to a number, and each lime something had prevented him j from speaking. Either it was ‘’number engaged,” or the person he want)d to speak to was out, or else he : lad been suddenly cut off. At last ie got through. “Hallo!” said he. “Is Mr. X. there?” s “Yes,” replied a voice. “Do you ' want to speak to him?” That was the last straw. Back : :ame the reply in icy tones: “Oh, no! Nothing of the sort. I nerely rung up to hand him a cigar!” Quaker Oath. Two small boys in a family of i Friends, writes a contributor, had a . | lisagreement, during which the older * ley became very much incensed. J Finally, no longer able to control — Hmself,- he took his brother by the ; ihoulder and shook him, with the ex- ; ilamation, “ Oh, thee you, thee!” I Then as the enormity of his offense lame ov£r him, he said, in a changed | rolce, “Don’t tell mother I swore.” — | tenth’s Companion. Her Engagements. Miss Vivian is very much of a flirt ind she has been engaged to a dozen roung men during the few seasons she las been on the eligible list. A few lays ago she said to her father: “Pa. you may congratulate me on laving acquired a new object of my Affection.*’ “I am glad to hear It,” he replied. ‘I hope you are as happy with him as (ou will be with the next one.” Congratulated. Prize Fighter (entering school with 11s son) —You give this boy o’ mine t thrashln’ yesterday, didn’t you? Schoolmaster (very nervous) —Well —I —er —perhaps— Prize Fighter—Well, give ns your and; you’re a champion. I can’t do iothin’ with ’im invself.—Pttnch. No Danger. ' “Do you believe we are in any dancer of losing our birthright?” “Not a bit—that is, those of us who •re doomed to always work for what we get are not” A man spends a good portion of his time deceiving himself, and a woman ipends a good portion of hers before i mirror. It’s the same thing. Some men’s idea of luck is to owe after he’s out. FAMILY RUNT Kansas Man Says Coffee Made Him That. “Coffee has been used tn our family of eleven—father, mother, five sons tnd four daughters—for thirty years. I am the eldest of the boys and have always been considered the runt of the family and a coffee toper. “I continued to drink it for years unr til I grew to be a man, and then 1 found I l(ad stomach trouble, nervous headaches;^ poor circulation, was unable to do a full day’s work, took medicine for this, that and the other thing, without the least benefit. In fact I‘ k only weighed 116 when I was 28. “Then I changed from, coffee to Postum, being the first one in our family to do so. I noticed, as did the rest of the family, that I was surely gaining strength and flesh. Shortly after I was visiting my cousin who said, 'You look so much better—you’re getting’ fat.’ “At breakfast his wife passed ms * cup of coffee, as she knew I was always such a coffee drinker, but I said, •No, thank you.’ '"■What!’ said my cousin, 'you quit coffee? What do you drink?’ “ ‘Postum,’ I said, ‘or water, -and X am well.’ They did not know what Postum was, but my cousin had stomach trouble and could not sleep at night from drinking coffee three times * day. He was glad to learn about Postum, but said he never knew coffee would hurt anyone.” (Tea is Just as injurious as coffee because it contains caffeine, the same drug found tn coffee.) “After understanding my condition •nd how I got well he knew what to do for himself. He discovered that coffee was the cause of his trouble a» he never used tobacco or anything else of the kind. You should see the change In him now. We both believe that if persons who suffer from coffee drinking would stop and use Postum they could build back to health and happiness," Name given by Postum Co» Pattie Creek, Mich. "There’s a reason.” Read the little book, "The Road to Wellvllle,” in pkgs. Ever read the above letter. A new cne appears from time to time. They are genuine, true, and full of human Interest Ever read the above letter? A aew ona appears from time to time. They are arenuUre, true, and fuM of humna Intersat.