The Syracuse Journal, Volume 5, Number 27, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 31 October 1912 — Page 3

Reminiscences of Ctr^HERIOCK .HOLMES \ ft \\ byJlrmnrConMlk&k: \ lllusimtions fey XLDornea

Ctfe ADYimim or the FED GRCLE .» (Continued.) “One moment, Gregson," saffi Holmes. “I rather fancy that this lady may be as anxious to give us information as we can be to get it. You understand, madam, that your husband will be arrested and tried for the death of the man who lies before us? What you say may be used in evidence. But if you think that he has acted from motives which are not criminal, and which he would wish to have known, then you cannot serve him better than by telling us the whole story.” “Now that Gorgiano is dead we fear nothing,” said the lady. "He was a ysvil and a monster, and there can lie no judge in the world who would punish my husband for having killed him.” “In that case,” said Holmes, “my suggestion is that we lock this door, leave things as we found them, go ■with this lady to her room, and form our opinion after we have heard what it is that she has to say to us.” Half an hour later we were seated, all four, in the small sitting-room of Signora Lucca, listening to her „remarkable narrative of those sinister events, the ending of which we had chanced to witness. She spoke in rapid and fluent but very unconventional English, which, for the sake of clearness, I will make grammatical. “I was born in Posilippo, near Naples,” said she, “and was the daughter of Augusto Barelli, who was the chief lawyer and once the deputy of that part. Gennaro was in my father’s employment, and 1 came to love him. as any woman must. He had neither money nor position—nothing but his beauty and strength and energy—so my father forbade the. match. We fled together, were married at Bari, and sold my jewels to gain the money which would take us to America. This was four years ago, and we have been in New York ever since. “Fortune was very good to us at first. "Gennaro w’as able to do a service to an Italian gentleman—he saved him from some ruffians in the place called the Bowery, and so made a powerful friend. His name was Tito Cestalotte, and he was the senior partner of the great firm of Castalotte and Zamba, who are the chief fruit Importers of New York. Signor Zamba is an invalid, and our new friend Castalotte has all power within the firm, which employs more than three hundred men. He took my husband into his employment, made him head of a department, and showed his goodwill towards him in every way. Signor Castalotte was a bachelor, *nd I believe that he felt as if Genuaro was his son, and both my husband and I loved him as if he were cur father. We had taken and furnished a little house in Brooklyn, land our whole future seemed assured, when that black cloud appeared which ■was soon to overspread our sky. “One night, when Gennaro returned from his work, he brought a fellowcountryman back with him. His name was Gorgiano, and he had come also from Posilippo. He was a huge man, as you can testify, for you have looked upon his corpse. Not only was his body that of a giant, but everything .about him was grotesque, gigantic and terrifying. His voice was like thunder in our little house. There was scarce room for the whirl of his great arms as he talked. His thoughts, his emotions, his passions, all were exaggerated and monstrous. He talked, or rather roared, with such energy that others could but sit and listen, cowed with the mighty stream of words. His eyes blazed at you and held you at his mercy. He was a terrible and wonderful man. I thank God that he is dead! "He came again and again. Yet 1 was aware that Gennaro was no more happy than I was in his presence. My poor husband would sit pale and listless, listening to the endless ravings upon politics and upon social questions which made up our visitor's conversation. Gennaro said nothing, but I who knew him so well could read in his face some emotion which I had never seen there before. At first I thought that it was dislike. And then, gradually, 1 understood that it was more than dislike. *lt was fear—a deep, secret, shrinking fear. That night—the night that I read his terror —I put my arms round him and I implored him by his love for me and by all that he held dear to hold nothing from me, and to tell me why this huge man overshadowed him so. “He told me, and my own heart grew cold as ice as I listened. My poor Gennaro, in his wild and fiery days, when all the world seemed against him and his mind was driven half mad by the injustices of life, had joined a Neapolitan society, the Red Circle, which was allied to the old Carbonari. The oaths and secrets of this brotherhood ware frightful; but once within its rule no escape was possible. When we had fled to America Gennaro thought that he had cast it all off for ever. What was his horror one evening to meet in the streets the very j man who had initiated him in Naples, the giant Gorgiano, a man who had warned the name of 'Death’ in the South of Italy, for he was red to the elbow in murder! He had come to New York to avoid the Italian police, and he had already planted a branch of his dreadful society In his new home. All this Gennaro told me, and jhoaed bm a summons which he had

received that very day, a Red Circle drawn upon the head of It, telling him that a lodge would be held upon a certain date, and that his presence at it was required and ordered. ‘That was bad enough, but worse was to come. I had noticed for some time that when Gorgiano came to us. as he constantly did, in the evenings, be spoke much to me; and even when his words were to my husband those terrible, glaring, wild-beast eyes of his were always turned upon me. One night hiß secret came out I had awakened what he called ‘love’ within him—the love of a brute—a savage. Gennaro had not yet returned when he came. He pushed his way in, seized me in his mighty arms, hugged me in his bear’s embrace, covered me with kisses and implored me to come away with him. I was struggling and screaming when Gennaro entered and attacked him. He struck Gennaro senseless and fled from the house which he was never more to enter. It was a deadly enemy that we made that night. “A few- days later came the meeting. Gennaro returned, from it with a face which told me that something dreadful had occurred. It was worse than we could have imagined possible. The funds of the society wer,gjajsed by blackmailing rich Italians and "One Moment, Gregson," said Holmes. threatening them with violence should they refuse the money. It. seems that Castalotte, our dear friend and benefactor, had been approached. He had refuted to yiild to threats, and he had handed the notices to the police. It was resolved now that such an example should be made of him as would prevent any other victim from rebelling. At the meeting it was arranged that he and his house should be blown up with dynamite. There was a drawing of lots as to who should carry out the deed. Gennaro saw our enemy’s cruel face smiling at him as he dipped his hand In the bag. No doubt it had been prearranged in some fashion, for it was the fatal disc with the Red Circle upon it, the mandate for murder, which lay upon his palm. He was to kill his best friend, or he was to expose himself and me to the vengeance of his comrades. It was part of their fiendish system to punish those whom they feared or hated by Injuring not only their own persons, but those whom they loved, and It was the knowledge of this which hung as a terror over my poor Gennaro’s head and drove him nearly crazy with apprehension. “All that night we sat together, our arms round each other, each strengthening each for the troubles that lay before us. The very next evening had

Deadbeats of One Pattern

Veteran Credit Man Says They All Talk Alike and Try SameTricks. "Deadbeats,” remarked an old credit man, “all talk alike. They are plausible to start with,” he went on. "and are so free and easy they deceive every one but the most astute credit man. When they are dunned the first time they make a frank and positive promise to pay on a certain date. They do this so unreservedly that suspicion Is disarmed Os course they don’t pay —but they have some of the best excuses in the world. They have had a run of hard luck, for instance. If the merchant takes this well, they will ask for more credit. H the merchant is obdurate they will come hack with the statement that the merchant is making it unnecessarily hard for them to get along by crowding them; they will hint, also, that others have been soliciting their trade. “Right there is the time to come down on them hard. Bhut off their credit. Usually it is useless to sue, for such persons are judgment proof. The next move is to let them think you have forgotten them. They ali ways are on the watch for the man who keeps nagging them all the time, but they grow careless of the man who leaves them alone. Some day they will leave an opening so that something can he attached or levied on, and then is the" time to jump in and get your money. "A favorite trick of the deadbeat Is to offer his note for the account These fellows think nothing of giving their notes. They would buy the continent of Asia if they could give their notes for it, and would clean up a fortune and get out of paying the note. Just listen to one of these deadbeats talk, remember what he says, and when the nezt one strikes you his language will be identical. It is almost

been fixed for the attempt. By midday my husband and 1 were on our way to London, but not before he had given our benefactor full warning of his danger, and had also left such Information for the police as would safeguard his life for the future. “The rest, gentlemen, you know for yourselves. We were sure that our enemies would be behind us like our own shadows. Gorgiano had his private reasons for vengeance, hut in any case we knew how ruthless, cunning, and untiring he could be. Both Italy and America are full of stories of his dreadful powers. If ever they were exerted It would be now. My darling made use of the few clear days which our start had given us in arranging for a refuge for me in such a fashion that no possible danger could reach me. For his own part, he wished to be free that he might communicate both with the American and with the Italian police. I do not myself know where he lived, or how. All that I learned was through the i columns of a newspaper. But once, as I looked through my window, I saw two Italians watching the house, and I understood that in some way Gorgiano had found out our retreat. Finally Gennaro told me, through the paper that he would signal to me from a certain window, but when the signals came they were nothing but warnings, which were suddenly Intel' rupted. It is very clear to me now that he knew Gorgiano to be close upon him, and that, thank God! he was ready for him when he came. And now, gentlemen, 1 would ask you whether we have anything to fear from the law, or whether any judge upon earth would condemn my Gennaro for w*hat he has done?” “Well, Mr. Gregson,” said the American, looking across at the official, “I don’t know what your British point of view may be, but I guess that in New York this lady’s husband will receive a pretty general vote of thanks.” “She will have to come with me and see the chief,” Gregson answered. "If what she says is corroborated, I do not think she or her husband has much to fear. But what I can’t make head or tail of, Mr. Holmes, Is how oa earth you got yourself mixed up in the matter.” “Education, Gregson. education. Still seeking knowledge at the old university. Well, Watson, you have one more specimen of the tragic and grotesque to add to your collection. By the way, it is eight o’clock, and a Wagner night at Covent Garden! If we hurry, we might be in time for the second act.” Not the Same Thing. This overheard conversation appeals to the weary one as nearly epigrammatic. The young people on the seat ahead of us in the homeward-bound car the other night talked it out so loud that we couldn’t help hearing if and jotting down a few notes on it "So,” said the girl, "he said he knew me when I was a little girl?" "He didn’t say anything of the sort," contradicted the man. * “You said he did.” “I didn’t.” “Why! Then what did you say?" “I said he said he knew you when he was a boy.” That put such a wet blanket on the conversation that we were unable to read our sporting extra uninterrupted for the next several blocks.—Cleveland Plain Dealer. Wellesley College In Lead. Wellesley college is said to have more graduates In the mission field than any other woman’s college in this country. Gertrude Chandler, of the class of 1879, now Mrs. Mychoff, was the first Wellesley missionary in the Held. She went to Bombay immediately after taking her degree in the first class graduated from Wellesley. The college Is represented in the mission field of every country in Asia with the single exception of Korea. There are Wellesley missionaries scattered through South America, Spain, the Philippines, Mexico and Africa. . Proof of Riches. Patience —They say he was taken sick on the train. Patrice—lndeed? What was th« matter? “Oh, he ate too much in a dining car." “Oh! Is he as rich as that?”

as if it were the fixed ritual of their order.” Sway of the Police Magistrate. In New York upward of 200,000 per sons were arraigned before the police magistrates during the year 1910 and another hundred thousand were probably brought into their courts by summons. Over this hhge army of people, many of whom are entirely innocent of any offense, the magistrates exert an almost undisputed sway, for their decisions are in nine cases out of ten absolutely final. In other words, they pass judgment upon the personal liberty and rights of more than 25,000 citizens every month of the year, and, save in a few instances, their decisions are accepted without appeal or review of any kind. No other tribunal In the land administers justice on so vast a scale or exerts anything even approaching so unbridled a power. It is at once a court of first and last resort, presided over by a cadi, supreme arbiter of the facts and largely a law unto himself.—From the Century. Captain Cook Statua. None too soon, that renowned English navigator, Captain Cook, is to have a memorial In London. It will take the form of a statue of the explorer of the Northwest Passage, and is being executed by Sir Thomas Brock, R. A., the commissioners being the British Empire league. Th© statue is expected to he finished In November next when it will be set up, appropriately enough, near tne new Admiralty Aren, dose to Trafalgar square Many distinguished folk are expected to be present at the unveiling, which probably will be performed by the king, who, as a keen sailor, has taken a lot of Interest In the memorial project

Religion a Choice of Service By REV. JAMES M. GRAY. D. D.. Deu W lbs Moody Bible hudiuta. CVifSf

TEXT: "Choose you this day whom ye will serve.’’—Joshua. 24:15. These words were spoken by Joshua to the nation of Israel. He is now an old man soon

to go the way of all the earth, and he gathers the leaders of the people about him to have them renew their covenant with God. That renewal is practically summed up In the words of the text. (V) Let us lay emphasis upon the word “serve.” Religion is service, whether it be a false religion or the true one that

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‘we have In mind. So far as the abt struct question of service is con- • cerned. one neither loses nor gains :by accepting Christianity. “Know ye not.” says the apostle Paul, “that to whom ye yield yourselves servants to obey his servants ye are to whom ye j obey, whether of sin unto death or of obedience unto righteousness?” There may be a change of masters or a change in the character and the rewards of service, but so far as service Itself is concerned there is no change. When, therefore, one Is entreated to take Christ’s yoke upon ’ him it is not as if he had never worn ; a yoke before, but only a question as *to whether he would remain in the bonds of iniquity or obey one in the keeping of whose commands there is great reward. (2) Let us lay emphasis upon "choose.” Religion is a matter of choice, for men may serve God or not as they please. Os course he may compel a man to serve him, but ordinarily he does not do this, a man would be merely a machine if he did. This liberty of choice is man’s glory and also his peril. As Whittier says: Though God be good, and free be heaven, I No force divine can love compel; j And though the song of sins forgiven May sound through lowest hell; The sweet persuasion of his voice , Respects thy sanctity of will. He glveth day: thou hast thy choice To wallt In darkness still. (3) Let us lay emphasis upon "you.” “Judge therefore yourselves, brethren, that ye be not judged of the Lord.” Let every other personality fade from your consideration and consciousness, and think only of your own solitariness in the Divine presence when “Every one of us shall give an account of himself to God.” In every congregation where the gospel is preached Satan entraps individuals in the snare of self-deception by helping them to lose themselves in the mass. How is it with you? You may have attended church all your life and yet never personally, consciously, definitely and irreversibly made a choice to serve Goo through Jesus Christ. Will you do it now? (4) Let us lay emphasis on “this day.” There is peril in delay. The young prince, Napoleon, in the Zulu war, was one day riding at the head of a squad outside the camp. It was a dangerous position and some one said: “We had better return or we shall fall Into the hands of the enemy.” “Oh,” said the prince, “Let us stay here ten minutes and drink our coffee.” Before the ten minutes elapsed the Zulus were upon them and the prince lost his life. When his sorrow-stricken mother heard it, she exclaimed: “Ah, that was his mistake from babyhood; he was ever pleading for ten minutes more. On this account I sometimes called him Mr. Ten Minutes.” How many have lost their bouls if not their bodies by a like procrastination? God commands you to choose him today. Does a human monarch indulge his subjects in delay when the edict has gone forth for their obedience? How, then, can we trifle'with the law of God? And then think of the privilege. “Now is the accepted time, today is the day of salvation.” What tomorrow may mean we do not know, nor even that there Bhall be tomorrow. For millions tomorrow will not be. “Wherefore, it is written, today if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts.” What la* Meant by Serving God? "What, indeed, but to yield our wills to him that he may have his will in us In all things? That will is revealed in his word, and aB we read and meditate upon it, as it is preached and expounded unto us in the power of his Hoty Spirit, it is for us to follow where it leads. His grace is promised to enable ns to do this. The first step, however, is to confess his son Jesus Christ as Saviour and Lord. No man is a soldier until he has enlisted, subscribed the oath and donned the uniform, and so in the army of the Lord, he who would belong to it must comply with similar conditions. When the countrymen of Jesus said to him, “What must we do that we may work the works of God?" Jesus answered, “This is the work of God that ye believe on him whom he hath seni” To believe on him is not merely to admit that he once lived on this earth and that he was crucified, and died and rose again from the dead. The demons believe this and tremblo. But it is to trust him and give ourselves over to bim to be saved, and cleansod from sin and guided and controlled by his spirit If you have never donq thin, let me urge you to do it now, as your eyes fall upon these words. This, for every unsaved soul, is the meaning of Joshua’s words, "Choose you this day whom ye will serve."

RETURN OF MARINO Tragedy and Romance in Homecoming of Soldier. By LEWIS JAMES. The hand of old Papa Tiantill trembled. The day’s doings had been all wrong, and in his capacity as village priest at Mitriane he had been unable to help himself. And then the news had come. If had spread rapidly, first In whispers and later, when men’s excitement could no longer be restrained, in joyout shouts. "Marino is coming! Our Marino! Karistinakl, the Cretan eagle! Our hero! The slayer of Bulgaria! The 3avior of the oppressed! He is coming home.” Papa Tzantlli went into his house on the outskirts of the village. He wished to avoid being questioned. /He sat In his little room upstairs / and gazed sadly toward the quay. Toward evening a steamboat churned her way between the northern promontory of the island and the barren rock which rose sentinel a quarter of a mile off. * In the stem of the vessel stood a huge man with his hands upon the converging bulwark. He was a Cretan born, to judge by his dress, which he had donned for the special occasion of his homecoming. He looked before him fixedly, and joy—fierce and glorious joy—filled his eyes. As the boat began to pass under the promontory, a little caique shot round a projecting rock, followed by another and another. And as they came within hailing distance, their crews began to shout At first it seemed to the Cretan that these were but the usual overtures of a varkari soliciting passengers from the anchorage to the quay. But with a sudden hot flush of pleasure he soon realized the truth. Some one had told the news of his coming. They were shouting his name In welcome. But Marino had other plans In view. He was well aware that once among this exuberant throng on shore it might be hours before he could tear himself away, and the first joys of his home-coming must be unobserved. So, not loath to enjoy the triumph, but wishing to postpone it, he prevailed upon the skipper to land him in a secluded cove 20 minutes or more before the vessel should reach its appointed haven that he might first visit the home of his fiance. Marino stepped ashore and gazed about him at the familiar scene. He scrambled up the rocks a little way so that the view might be extended. Then he caught the sound of voices overhead, and presently he saw the figure of a small boy emerge from a shallow cleft, and, with a frightened glance behind him, run up the zigzag path beyond. In another second the Cretan discovered what the boy had been doing. A skin of wine lay at the entrance to the cleft, and as he advanced silently he could make out the form of a man seated in the shadow. He was eating some food the boy had brought The soldier stopped and stared. That some solitary Individual should eat his supper on a desolate cliff was not so singular, hut that he should be clothed In ceremonious black, that, an excessively high collar, resplendent from an Athens laundry, should encircle his neck, were surprising. For a whole minute they stared at each other. "You are frightened, D’Metri?” Marino asked shortly, grinning In contempt and amusement “You didn’t expect to see me here so soon. You thought I was still with the bands. Is It not so, D’metri?*’ “That Is true," the fellow whined. ‘Have mercy on me! I did not mean to Injure you; I couldn’t help myself.” * “That you could not help yourself from running when under fire 1 can quite believe, but that afterward you should turn traitor and betray us into the—" He saw D’metri’s hand slide Into his pocket, and the next instant his own flashed over his head. One short scream strangled fn the coward’s throat, and Marino’s knife struck home again. For a moment or two the soldier stood over him, his face glowering, then without a backward glance continued the ascent Righteous indignation lent additional vigor to Marino’s stride, and in a few minutes he had mounted the zig- , zag path and stood upon the rock road which led to the cottage. As he came nearer he saw the small boy who had brought food for D’metri sitting at the roadside, cutting up an onion with a big knife. As the Cretan approached the lad started up In terror and began to run. “Stop!" cried Marino. “Come here; I will not hurt you, little one.” The big man’s voice was kind, and the boy obeyed. For a while they looked at each other, In the gathering dusk. Then, with a shout, Marino laid his hands upon the boy’s shoulders. “It is my little Adoni!” he cried, forgetting all else. “My little Adoni. grown so big as not to be recognized!" “Why, it is Marino! And I did not know you in that dress. And how red you are! And —Oh, what a cut that is upon your cheek!” “Tell me, Adoni— how does your little sister? Tell me of Marianthe.” “Marianthe is well,” and the boy looked away. “We thought that you were dead.” “Dead! Why? Men came In boats from the town to meet me. They did not believe me dead. They expected me—living.” “The news of your coming arrived only today, w© thought that you had been killed,” and again Adoni avoided Marino’s gaze; then, with startled suddenness, the lad hid his face against the big man’s sleeve and began to cry. And before Marino could hold him Adoni broke away and fled. Something was wrong. The heart of the fierce warrior heat audibly. , “I will go to Marianthe," he said, and strode forth. As he approached the house a man darted out, and, brushing by him , without a word, sped away in the direction of the village. {

His gray beard told Marina that this was the father of Marianthe. “They are fleet of foot tonight." thought he, and came to the door. It was open, and the dim light Just sufficed to show him the one room of which the place consisted. There was an armchair by the open window, and in it a woman rocked to and fro in an agony of grief. Marino stood silent for several moments. Then he went in and took the woman in his arms. ‘Marianthe, my loved one, I have come back to you!" For a moment her arms were about his neck, and she raised her eyes to his and looked at him sorrowfully. “Do you not say anything to me?” “Why did you not come sooner?" In a whisper so low as scarcely to be heard. “I have come as soon as it was possible. Why do you look so at me?" He broke ofT and seized her hands, and covered them with kisses. “Adoni said that the story came that I had been killed.” “Yes. They brought the cap I made for you, all stained with blood and torn by a bullet” “I lost the cap six months ago. But they brought it—who?” For the first time the shadow of suspicion crossed his mind. He was stroking her hands still, waiting for her to speak. Then as his grip tightened upon the fingers of her left hand, he felt something that he had not noticed before. His heart seemed to stop. Gray hands of fear tore at him, but he remained silent. “D’metri- He came back in the spring. He said that you were killed at his side.” “Ay—and then?” The words hissed away her hands from him. “And then—and then,” she cried, “he came to my old father. For a long time nothing was said to me, but I know now that it was arranged between them that I should marry D’metri. ! Ah, do not look at me so! Oh, Marino, my one, there was no life for me when you were dead. There was nothing. But I loathed D’metri. I tried to flee away from the Island, but they brought me back. And at length—at length I was forced to give in. Marino, mine, if you had come but yesterday!” "What do you say—yesterday?" “Papa Tzantill married us today, and just as we had sat down to eat afterward a man arrived from Athens, saying you were not only alive, but were coming by the next steamer to Mitriane.” Marino rose, and roughly dragged the gold ring from her finger. For a moment he looked out of the window, watching the afterglow of the sunset above the horizon. Far below an easy tide lapped against the rocks. Half-way between lay one whe was white and cold and stared forth from the rock cleft. He held the ring in the palm of his hand. “Our forefathers burned ornaments of gold with their dead,” he said, and burst into a roar of laughter. “Go and comfort thy master!” he shouted, and hurled the ring away. Influence of the Cinematograph. A striking illustration of the in fiuence of the übiquitous cinemato graph is reported by the Am%ricac consulate at Belgrade. American sash lons have recently become very popular with the young men of that city; there is an unprecedented demand at the local shops for hats, boots and oth er wearing apparel similar to that in vogue In the United States, and th« American style of hair cutting haa come into favor. These innovation! are unmistakably the result of the ex hlbitlon of moving pictures of Ameri can origin. The obvious moral of aIT this, as the consul points out, 1b that the cinematograph might be used U great advantage in advertising all kinds of American products. Fbr in stance, pictures of American agricul tural machinery in operation would probably create a great demand foi the thing itself. This plan offers ar economical substitute for the actua exhibition of American products U commercial museums and the like. Woman’s Perilous Climb. A daring feat was performed tha other day by Miss Whitehouse, t schoolmistress at Far Cotton schools Northampton. The young womai climbed the chimney of the brick work here and walked round th* steeplejack’s scaffolding at the top, a height of 250 feet She was provide* with a line rope and climbing irons but she dispensed with the line and went to the top with only two rests When she reached the scaffolding a ( the top she had to climb over a pro jecting rim. which is girdled by a na row plank footway, and stand on - single 11-lnch plank. She remain© at the top of the chimney for about i quarter of an hour, talking with th, steeplejacks. Miss Whitehouse, in a» interview, said she did not feel at al frightened during her climb and dt> scent* She quite enjoyed the magn, fleent panoramic view of Northamptoi and the floods along the Nene Valley Women Have Longer Lives. The statistics of French insurance companies prove beyond question tha women live longer than men; nor b the feminine advantage in longevity t matter of a few months, or eve-, i rears. The difference is one of al most a third. Thus the average ag< of death for women annuitants on thi books of one company is seventy, am for men a bare fifty. Another com pany has several centenarians, al women, on its books. This company is now thinking of revising the tariff) and making “one law for the man an! another for the woman.” Clap of Doom Figures. If life has got to where there Is on' case of cancer to every seven people then build us a palace of death, a; urged by noted old Nobel, for It see mi as if all the promises of mercy a: shams. These one in seven figures an the clap of doom figures given out b; an English cancer expert visiting thii country- Nobody over here should bi silly enough to swallow such stuff, fa probably one In forty Is an inch a wo past the mark. Precocious Pupil. Teacher —Who can name the Cen tr*>l American republics in order. Bright Pupil — Please, teachei they’re never in order. |

NAMED THE FIRST REQUISITE Bright Boy May Have Lacked Originality, but H# Surely Had Correct Answer. “This brave man, beloved by all i France, was then buried with full military honors,” a Baltimore boy ; read from the lesson, when his name j had been called. ”u “What are ‘military honors’ in this connection?” the teacher asked, and several boys seemed to be possessed j of the right idea. “And what must one be to receive such honors?” was the next question. “A general?” “A hero?” “A capj tain?’’ were a few of the tentative re- ! Plies. Only the “bright boy” of the | class remained silent. “Have you no answer, James?” th© j teacher suggested, “what must one | be?” “Why, I should say dead. Miss ! Mary." was the reply. | FACE ALMOST COVERED WITH PIMPLES AND BLACKHEADS Atchison, Kan.—“For a number of years I suffered very greatly from skin eruption. My face was very red and Irritated, being almost covered with pimples and blackheads. The pimplea were scattered over my face. They were a fine rash with the exception of a few large pimples on niy forehead and chin. My face burned and looked red as If exposed to either heat or cold. It was not only unsightly but very uncomfortable. I tried several remedies but couldn’t get any relief. I was recommended to use Cuticura Soap and Cuticura Oihtment. “I applied the Cuticura Ointment fa the evening, leaving it for about five minutes, then washing it off with Cuticura Soap and hot water. I washed with the Cuticura Soap and hot water also several times during the >lay. After about four months of this application, my face was cleared of the pimples. I still use the Cuticura Soap.” (Signed) Miss Elsio Dec. 29, 1911. Cuticura Soap and Ointment sold throughout the world. Sample of each free, with 32-p. Skin Book. Address post-card “Cuticura, Dept L, Boat >n." Adv. Sacrifice Made for Dress. Using the Los Angeles fashion show for his text. Dr. Alfred Jones, a distinguished nerve specialist of London, now visiting the California city, made the assertion that dress is causing the ruination of more lives in America than malignant disease.” He said the intense competition among American women of all classes to keep up the pace set by fashion was nerveracking and nerve-destroying. Important to Mother© Examine carefully every bottle cf CASTORIA, a safe and sure remedy for Infants and children, and see that It In Use For Over 30 Years. Children for Fletcher’s Castorin Probably. "A thing is never so when it la not so.” “I’ll bet it is if your wife says Jt Is.” His Job. “What is Jaggs doing now?*’ “Everybody he can.” A CURB FOR PILES. Cole’s Carbollaalve stops itching and pahs—and cures piles. All druggists. 25 and 50c. Adv, If a man doesn’t know how to make love to a widow she knows how to teach him. Red Cross Ball Blue, all blue, beet bluing value in the whole world, makes the laundress smile. Adv. It’s an easy matter to forgive those who trespass against others.

BAD BACKS DO MAKE WORK HARD Backache makes the daily toil, for thousands, an agony hard to endure. Many of these poor sufferers have kidney trouble and don’t know it Swollen, aching kidneys usually go hand in hand with irregular kidney action, headache, dizziness, nervousness and despondency. When suffering so, try Doan’s Kidney Pills, the best-recommended kidney remedy. Here's an Ohio Case J. W. Priest, “iJtwry PttThlnlSt.Marrs- £ furs TtlU a viUe,Ohlo,6ays: f Stum” “1 awful I j ing run down In ,r f-- i f, . weight from 220 \/f \ V Bto 150 fiounds. Igrow pwi-awli \ [(TX™ The pains in the l|H VtMB smullot myback ran were constantly | | ! growing worse I i y\\ -SKIS and the kidney J L 1 - I *— JlfiJSSfc secretions tn>u- ID tSaJ SBL bled me greatly. -yi—Tfr- 7 ilr- — J JXian-s Kidney j /AMU I - J Pills curfd me w j - ha'^e* 5 ’ had 111 no trouble since.” Get Doan's at Any Drag Store, 50c a Box DOAN’S WAV FOSTERMILBURN CO.. BUFFALO. N. Y. ALBERTA gIE PRICE OF BEEF For years the Province ot Alberta (Western Canada) was the Big Ranching Country .Many of these ranches today are Immense grain field* and the cattle have ce to the cultivation of ts, barley and flax! the is made many thousands cans, settled, on these ealthy, but It has tale price of live stock, s splendid opportunity Homestead a (and another as a prein the newer districts ice either cattle or grain, is are always good, the excellent, schools and are convenient, markets In either Manitoba, Basil or Alberta. the nearest Canadian < mt Agent tor literature, > In formation, railway 'rite: Superintendent gration, Ottawa, t;«.aa*>. 8- HETHIBY, 1