The Syracuse Journal, Volume 5, Number 52, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 24 April 1913 — Page 3

Costs Less Than a Two-Cent Postage-Stamp An average of less than a cent and a third a pair is paid for the use of all our machines in making two-thirds of the shoes produced in the United States —assuming that all our machines are used. The most that can I be paid for the use of all our machines in making the • highest-priced shoes is less than ssi cents a pair. The average royalty on all kinds of shoes is less than 2 2-3 cents a pair. 1 From this we get our sole return for '• the manufacture and use of the mas chines, for setting them up in factories and keeping them in order. You pay two cents for a postage stamp or a yeast-cake and five cents for a car fare and don’t miss it. Where do you get more for your money than in buying a machine-made shoe? Write us and we will tell you all about it. The United Shoe Machinery Company, Boston, Mass. —Adv. The more birthdays a woman has the less they count. Try Mrs. Austin’s Bag Pancake, sure to please you, all grocers. Adv. Heading Her Off. “Do you love me, George?’’ “Yes, dear, I love you, but go a little light, for I won’t have any money until pay day.’’ Suffer Little Children. “He says he lovee little childfen.’’ “He ought to. He employs dbout 8,000 of them and they are making him rich.” Hard Enough Single. “That young man has about the hardest job in the world.” “WhaJ is he doing?” “Tyying to lead a double life on S2O a week.” She Knew It. * One day a teacher was having a first-grade class in physiology. She asked them if they knew that there was a burning fire in the body all of the time. One little girl spoke up and said: “Yes’m, when it is a cold day I can see the smoke.” —National Monthly. Old Pie Shops Disappearing. With the decline of the a la mode beef shop in London one notes also the disappearance of most of the oldfashioned pie shops, such hs the famous eel-pie shop in Fleet street that the youthful fancy of the writer always associated with the story of Sweeney Todd, “the demon barber.” The itinerant vender of sheep’s trotters has also almost disappeared, as well as the seller of sandwiches at the doors of theaters, while the peripatetic pie has quite vanished from the itreets. In their place we have the illconquering but malodorous friedfish shop, which has jmultiplied fourfold during the last twenty years.— London Chronicle. Meat-Bearing Tree. In Mexico grows a tree called the Avocado, whose pear-shaped fruit'is reputed to be composed of the substances which are to be found in meat. It contains about twenty per cent of fat and many other ingredients of great food value, and one good-sized “meat” pear is quite sufficient to make t meal for the average man. The reason why the fruit is so little know at present is because it is grown nowhere on a large-scale, what tew trees there are grown round flffa huts of the natives, where they flourish with little care and afford easy meals forth owners. Cultivated ‘on extensive lines it might have an important bearing op that serious subject, the high cost of living. Willow Switches Given Away. The small boy whose father has time to apply the switch should beware with a little more than his usual caution. The United States govern- » ment is giving away willow switches. The department of agriculture has an experiment farm at Arlington, Va., and some parts of It were found to ba 100 wet for raising ordinary crops. Therefore the experts set willows out In the wet places, and there has been go smart a growth that the government wants to get rid of the willow •witches. It offers to give them away under the guise of willow cuttings tc make baskets or bottom chairs, but nc imart boy will ever be deceived by •, that kind of talk. He may be hafe only In the assurance of the goveriiment that only one hundred of the cuttinge Will be given to one person.—Worces ier Telegram. FRIENDS HELP. St. Paul Park Incident. “After drinking coffee for breakfast I always felt languid and dull, having -no ambition to get to my morning duties. Then in about an hour or so t weak, nervous derangement of the heart and stomach would come over Vme with such force I would frequently have to lie down.” I Tea is just as harmful, because it Contains caffeine, the same drug found m, coffee. - “At other times I had severe head-’ aches: stomach finally became affected and digestion so impaired that I had serious chronic dyspepsia and constipation. A lady, for many years State President of the W. ,C. T. U., told me she had been greatly benefited by quitting coffee and using Postum; she was troubled for years with asthma. She said ft was no cross to quit coffee when she found «he could have as delicious an article as Postum. “Another lady who had been troubled with chronic dyspepsia for years, found immediate relief on ceasing coffee and using Postum. Still another friend told me that Postum was a Godsend, her heart trouble having been relieved after leaving off coffee and taking on Postum. “So many. such cases came to my notice that I concluded coffee was the cause of my trouble and I quit and (look up Postum. I am more than pleased to say that my days of trouble have disappeared. lam well and happy." Look in pkgs, for the famous little book, “The Road to Wellvllle.’* Kver read the above letter? A new one appear* from time to time. They are weaaiae, tree, and tell •< hnmaa hitereet. _.j <■

I Stanton < W?NS_ FREDERIC THORNBURGH

SYNOPSIS. At the beginning of great automobile race the mechanician of the Mercury. Stanton’s machine, drops dead. Strange youth, Jesse Floyd, volunteers, and is accepted. In the rest during the twentytour hour race Stanton meets a stranger. Miss Carlisle, who introduces herself. The Mercury wins race. Stanton receives flowers from Miss Carlisle, which he ignores. Stanton meets Miss Carlisle on a train. They* alight to take walk, and train leaves. Stanton and Miss Carlisle follow in auto. CHAPTER IV.—(Continued.) Stanton, unruffled as in the New York depot, except for his wind-tossed hair, whose blackness was flecked with yellow road dust, leaned back to reclaim his hat and inquire their destination. 'When he returned to the usual method of driving with both hands and facing forward, Miss Carlisle had altogether recovered her poise. “Speaking of racing. I have never thanked you for the other night,” she observed, her low tones inaudible to those behind them. “I never experienced anything like watching you on the track—you carried me away beyond conventionality, I am afraid. And to feel that I had a share in your bewildering feats —” The ugly mood rose again in Stanton. “You need not have felt that responsibility,” -he declared. “My feats, as you are pleased to call them, are shared by no one. I drive for purposes of my own.” She understood at once. “You mean that you did not race with the Duplex because I wanted to see your famous driving?” He checked the machine to permit the passage of a trolley-car. • “I had my mechanician beside me and there were two men in the Duplex.” was his oblique reply. “I do not amuse by brushing near assassination.” The retort was thoroughly Stantonesque. Miss Carlisle bent forward to catch the slipping dust-robe, before answering him, but gave an exclamation as the motor abruptly fell silent. “Oh, I am so sorry! The robe caught in the switch and moved it.” “It is nothing,” he assured, stooping to remedy the tangle, and sprang out to crank the engine. He had done this very act for Floyd, two weeks before; only then the stoppage had been intentional. Stanton was thinking of that incident, while he bent to seize the crank, and not of what he was doing. But he saw Valerie Carlisle lean toward the steering-wheel, her red lips apart and her eyes glistening, just as he pulled up the handle. “Wait!” the girl cried, a second too late. There was a sharp explosion of the motor, the crank tore itself violently out of his hand. Only Stanton’s trained swiftness and instant recoil saved him from a broken wrist. As it was, his arm fell momentarily numbed at his side. : “You left the spark up.” Miss Carlisle cried again, pale and shaken “I tried to fix it, but you had cranked. Have you injured your arm?" Mr. Carlisle had risen, several people paused on the sidewalk, but Stantdn stood looking at the girl who leaned across the folded wind-shield. He, automobile expert, racing driver, had advanced his spark and gone out to crank "his motor? His reason rebelled. Yet, what other explanation? “You have injured your arm? Why was I so stupid as to catch the robe andrstop rtie engine!” He recovered himself promptly. “No, no," it is nothing. Miss Carlisle. I am not hurt, ’ he disclaimed. But nevertheless he started the engine with his left hand, her narrowed amber eyes following him. It was not far to the Carlisle place. There Stanton declined every invitation to remain, or even to enter, firmly resolved to go on to Lowell by the next train. “We will be there tomorrow, also,” Miss Carlisle informed him, in taking leave. “I am so grieved that you cannot use your arm.”' “You see I have used It to steer and shift gears,” he reminded. “Yes, but you will not try to race so hurt?” That was what troubled her? The fear that he would not drive and she would miss the excitement of seeing him on the thin verge of death? Her beauty went out to his eyes like the blown flame of a candle. “I shall race,” he declared curtly. He had an odd fancy as he went down the village street; it occurred to him that he would like to see Floyd. He was tired, tired to nausea of the feminine as represented by Valerie Carlisle. He would have liked to hunt up his mechanician and hear him talk frank sense, man-fashion. But of course he did nothing of the kind. When he arrived at Lowell he went to a doctor and had the strained armglared for, instead. CHAPTER V. Tuning Up. Floyd was sitting on a railing in front of the repair pits, when Stanton came out to the course next morning, engaged in chatting airily with a couple of jovial drivers from rival cars. He was laughing, and furthermore he was clad in correct racing costume, this time, Instead of the impromptu blend of the former occasion. The group, already breaking up, Jrew apart at Stanton’s approach, nodding greeting to him. But, beyond returning the salutes, he disregarded all except Floyd, opposite whom he stopped. “You seem to have nothing to do; s the machine ready?" he flung, with dis ugliest intonation. Floyd slipped off the railing and

stood up, his expression flickering in momentary surprise “All ready,” he answered, quietly businesslike under the undeserved rebuke. “Get it out, then.” The other men glanced significantly at one another. “Good luck, Floyd,” wished a slim Italian driver, whose reputation equaled Stanton’s own, as he turned away. I ’ The Mercury car was out already. One of the factory men cranked it. after Stanton took his seat. Floyd was moving to take the place beside, when his eyes fell on the driver’s bandaged wrist. “What’s up?” Stanton demanded, at the exclamation. “You have hurt your arm?” “Slightly. I cranked an Atalanta Six yesterday with my spark advanced.” The mechanician stopped with one foot on the car, looking at him. “I set my spark forward and went around in front and cranked'up and wrenched my arm,” Stanton explicitly repeated. Floyd regarded him blankly, then slowly dissolved into a smile of humorous comprehension and stepped into the car. “I had no right to ask. of course,” he agreed. “I beg your pardon. Curious people should expect to hear nonsense.” Floyd believed himself put off with an obvious tale, as one reproves a too-importunate child, so impossible he considered such carelessness. And Stanton wholly coincided with his judgment. Only, the fact remained The little episode had relieved rhe atmosphere, however, and restored naturalness of speech. They shot down the course, in the sweet country air. and the day’s work had commenced. Then Stanton had his first exhibition of what Floyd called tuning up his motor. “Got her all the way up?” shouted the mechanician, when they let out on the first straight stretch. Stanton nodded, fully occupied; the speedometer was indicating eightyfour miles an-hour. “Stop her —she needs fixing.” It was Floyd's hour of empire. Stanton brought his car to a halt in an appropriate situation, and the mechanician sprang put to investigate the unhooded power-plant. “Now’ we’ll try. She is good for ninety an hour,” he panted, returning. Stanton accordingly restarted. They spent the morning so; speeding furiously, stopping for Floyd to fuss with one thing or another, watching the speedometer. Floyd listened to the engine as to a speaking voice, translating its plaint unerringly and going to remedy the cause. As the assistant manager had said, he was a gasolene freak, a clairvoyant magician of delicate touches and manipulation. At twelve o’clock the Mercury came to its camp and stopped. “How is she doing?” inquired Mr. Green. “You made that last circuit a record breaker, I can tell you.” “Up to ninety-two miles an hour,” Stanton reported with brevity. “It never did so well before. Get out, Flbyd.” Floyd got out. flushed, tired, his heavy hair clinging in damp rings to his tipples, but sunnily content. Mr. Green contemplated him anxiously; he had heard an account of Stanton’s morning greeting to his mechanician,

“How Did You Become an Expert Automobile Driver?” and he was not pleased at the prospect of having to find another man to fill his place. “How,” he hesitated, testing his way, “how are you—er—feeling. Floyd?” "Hungry,” answered Floyd, promptly and unexpectedly. The boyish freshness of it brought a smile to.tbe lips of every one within hearing. The assistant manager chuckled outright in his relief. “There’s some kind of eats in a stand over there,” volunteered a grinning reporter from a Boston newspaper, “if you can bear them. Say, Floyd, do you know, I guess if you had a sister she’d be a right pretty girl.” “I have got one,” was the serene return. “You have? Can I ask what she looks like?” “Just like me; we’re twins,” he replied absently, his eyes dwelling on the Mercury. The description accorded so oddly with his appearance, as he stood in his rumpled attire, his serious face stained and darkened with dust, that there was a universal roar of laughter. “For shame, to slander a lady!” jeered one. “Doesn’t she ever wash her face, Floyd?” called another. “Can’t yop support her, without making her heave coal for a living?” gibed a third. Floyd laughed with the rest, glancing down at himself.

“You never saw me dressed for the opera,” he tossed back, as he went In search of w’ater. Stanton descended from his car, flung his mask and gauntlets on the seat, and followed his mechanician. He found him, presently, emerging damp and refreshed from ablutions performed in a bucket with the aid of some cotton-waste. “Will you coms to lunch with me?” Stanton asked abruptly. Floyd paused, regarding him in grave surprise and hesitation. “Thank you,” he began. Stanton made an impatient gesture, his eyes glinting steel-blue behind their black lashes. “Do you want me to apologize for bullying you this morning?” he demanded. Over the other’s face swept its characteristic sudden warning of expression. “No; I wanted to be sure that you want me. Thanks, I’ll come with pleasure.” He slipped into a long motor coat, and accompanied Stanton with a ready cordiality that took no account of past events. No reproach could have moved the offender so much, no injured dignity could have so forced a curb upon his tongue for the future. It was not to one of the temporary eating-places erected in anticipation of the race carnival that Stanton took his guest, but to a quiet, cool hotel within reach. There, the order given, he looked across the width of white linen at his companion with an odd sense of triumph and satisfaction; he felt for this boy-man something akin to the elation with which a youth takes the admired girl out to dinner for the first time. “I missed the train, yesterday,” he remarked. “I suppose you had no trouble getting the car here?” “None at all,” Floyd confirmed. “I fancied you accepted Miss Carlisle’s invitation to drive.” ”1 did, afterward. It was her car I cranked with the spark forward.” Floyd glanced up, a ripple of incredulous amusement crossing his gray eyes, but he said nothing. “At least, I set the spark as 1 , believed right.” Stanton amplified, watching the effect, “and when I cranked, the motor fired over. The person who sat next to me said I left the spark wrong.” The incredulity died out of Floyd’s gaze, but the wonder increased. “More likely it was changed after you left it. perhaps ly mistake.” he suggested. In a Hash of recc-lection Stanton saw Valerie Carlisle* s little gloved hand dart toward fye steering wheel, just before he pulled up the crank. Could she have moved the sector, and have corrected her mistake an instant too late? He remained silent, nor did Floyd pursue the question. When the first course of the luncheon was placed before them. Stanton aroused himself. Quite indifferent to the waiter’s pained disapproval, he took the carafe of ice-water and himself filled two glasses. “Is this your substitute for cocktails?" he queried, and pushed one of the goblets over to Floyd. Startled, Floyd yet understood, smiling as he looked across. •*Yes,” he assented, and drank the innocent Motorists both, there was no question of a stronger beverage. Stanton turned to the waiter. “You can go; I’ll ring when we want you. Did you ever drive an Atalanta Six-sixtM. Floyd?” “No. but Ive handled their fours. I like a six cylinder machine, myself; it has so fine a torque —” The conversation plunged Into professional technicalities; the sentimental episode was pushed aside. People going in and out of the restaurant stared interestedly at the two exchanging comments and questions. Stanton’s’dark face was well-known, and a face not easily forgotten, while his companion's dress sufficiently identified him as one of the racers who held the city’s attention during the motor carnival. When the dessert was before them. Stanton suddenly returned to the personal note. “How did you become a finished automobile expert by the age of twen-ty-one?” he questioned bluntly. “Well, 1 believe you are only five or six years older,” Floyd countered, with a touch of whimsical sadness. “But—l grew up in an automobile factory. 1 had no mother, no kinswomen at all, and my father made me his constant companion. He taught me everything he knew, and he—well, he was Edgar T. Floyd, who owned the Comet automobile plant, and who de signed and built and raced his own cars.” (TO BE CONTINUED.) Health. Health is a state of physical, mental and moral equilibrium, a normal fune tionating of body, mind and soul. It is th,e state when work is a pleasure, when the world looks good and beautiful and the battle of lite seems worth while. Health Is the antithesis ot disease, degeneracy and crime. The laws of health are as inexorable as the law of gravitation, as exacting as eternal justice, as relentless as fate, and their violation is the beginning and cause of all disease, suffering and sin. Health is the most desired or earthly blessings. When finally lost it cannot be purchased by uncounted millions, restored by the alienist or returned by the pulpit. Health is that state of happiness, faith and love whose prototype was the first man Adam; whose Ideal is the Christ. S. J- Crumbine. M. D., Topeka, Kan. To Minimize Accidents. An interesting method of educating the public in, the prevention of street accidents, which possesses pcssibili ties in other directions, employed by the Boston Elevated Railway company. is commented on in a recent number of the Journal of the American Medical association. The railway company offered a large number of prizes to high school pupils for the best specimens of verses containing instruction and caution in the way of prevention of traffic accidents on the streets which would appeal particularly to children. The plan created great interest among the school children, and a large number ot answers were received. ■ The company awarded about 200 prizes, the largest being for SSO.

DIAMONDSTICK PIN It Held a Pink Carnation Which Fulfilled Its Purpose i in Life. By M. DIBBELL. (Copyright, 1913. by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) Tears welled up in Doris Mtirtime’s eyes blinding her so that she stumbled on the last long step down from the , car and would have gone headlong had not a man who stood waiting to come aboard made a quick step for ward undx received her in his arms. “I pardon," he said as he releaseoher. “But it seemed the only way to keep you from a bad fall.” “Thank you, for it was all my fault ■ —I hope I did not hurt you?” The shock had restored Doris’ self control and she tried to smile as she’ asked the question. “No indeed; I am very glad I was on the spot when needed,” and touching his hat, her rescuer swung aboard j the already moving train. He dropped into the first vacant seat on the station side of the car to look back at Doris hurrying down the platform. “I never saw a sweeter looking girl, but the poor little soul seemed to be in trouble,” was his mental comment. As he settled back n the seat, loosening his overcoat, something fell to the floor with a soft tinkle. He stooped in surprise to pick up a pink carnation, caught on the stem of which was a gold stick pin. The pin was an exact imitation of a four leaved clover and tiny diamonds in the two upper leaves formed the initials “D. M." “Great Jehoshaphat! Have I taken to robbing people unconsciously!” was Stephen Lorimer’s first thought—then suddenly he remembered that the pretty girl he had saved from a fall was wearing a pink flower. “Oh horrors—she will think that was why I caught her, to relieve her of this!” Doris had not noticed the loss of either pin or flower, but was hastening to her afflicted brother. Six months before, he had come to the small town of Brantford' to become assistant surveyor in a firm which had chosen him from their numerous applicants. He was getting on well until one unlucky day there came a farmer from an outlying farm with the request that some capable man be sent back with him at once to survey certain fields over which he and a neighbor had come to disagreement. The work fell to David Mortimer, and he made a successful job of it—for his survey was accepted as satisfactory by all concerned, a friend of both farmers acting as David’s assistant. Late in the afternoon as the farmer was driving the surveyor back to Brantford behind a team of young and spirited horses, a runaway resulted frot’. the sudden bouncing out of a big dog from behind a wall. Both the farmer and David were thrown out, but in some marvelous way the farmer escaped injury, while poor David who was flung onto a sharp rock at the roadside received a broken leg and a severe scalp wound. The farmer's first thought after picking himself up was for his horses. He ran after them and found them at a standstill not many rods away. They had swerved into the dense undergrowth which came to the very edge of the road, and were unable to proceed. The light wagon which had tipped over on its side behind them acted as a sort of anchor. It took several minutes to extricate them, but to his delight their owner found that they had not been When he had righted the wagon and got his team once more within the traces, the farmer suddenly thought of his companion in misfortune and hurriedly drove back to find him. David lay unconscious from the wound on his head, but the farmer managed to lift him into the wagon and drove as speedily as possible to a Brantford doctor. It was in the doctor’s spare bedroom that the young man regained consciousness. The scalp wound made him feverish; and after a day or two it was thought best to send word of his accident’to the Mortimers. Thus Doris came at once to nurse her big brother. It was the thought of him which had brought the terars which caused her own tumble. Dr. Rogres’ house was a short distance from the station and Dori? was shown at once to David's room. “Doris! How good it is to see you —I didn't know they had sent word about my smash up.” Doris kissed him wherever she could find a place below the bandage. “You look as though you had been on a regular orgie—l never expected to see my immaculate brother making such a disreputable appearance. But as little Alice said when her brother had chicken pox “I love you just the same, even if you are ugly.’ ” David laughed for the first time since his disaster. “Always something cheerful even for the battered—you are a dear girl Doris,” and he squeezed her hand. “Father and mother sent you a car load of love, and mother says that if she hears another word about feverishness she will drop everything and come to take care of you herself, liere is a little message she wrote you.” Doris produced a pote. “Oh! Where is the lovely carnation that Moua pinned on my coat so I should be sure to remember to give it to you!” Doris spoke in sudden panic. as she realized that the flower had vanished. “And my dear little pin that Daddy gave me —1 wouldn’t have lost it for the world. But never mind. I'm sure I shall And it again.” “I hope you will find your pin, girlie, for I know how you value it. And did Mona really send me a flower?” There was ill concealed delight in this question, and Doris answered teasingly: “You dear old goose; don’t you suppose I know what that means to you? Yes she surely sent you one of her big pink carnations, and wanted rne to tell you it bore her sympathy and the hope that you would soon be all right.” “1 see that my wise sister can’t be deceived. So 1 may as well own up that I feel the loss of that flower quite as much as you your pin.” Doris gave him a loving pat, and in-

formed him that all conversation must cease for the present David had no return of fever after his sister’s arival, and Dr. Rogers considered him one of the most cheerful and tractable patients he had ever attended. Doris smiled mischievously when the doctor gave her this opinion; and later said to David, after repeating the compliment, “Dr. Rogers doesn't know how helpful an effect just a little pink flower which never even materialized has had on my suffering ; brother.” Stephen Lorimer’s business trip which occupied a week, seemed endless to him; for the little gold pin had become a real discomfort —his chief desire was to get back to Brantford and try to find its rightful owner. But even when the return to town was accomplished he seemed no nearer to a return of the pin. Stephen spent all his spare time for several days in wandering about with the hope that he might encounter the young woman of the train incident; but as Doris remained continuous!/ with David his quest was fruitless. One morning he stopped to see the younger member of the firm which employed David Mortimer; it was only a friendly call and in a very short time McArling said, “I* am sure yon will forgive me if I seem not quite civil, for we are rushed to death since our best surveyor’s accident. The poor chap broke his leg and everybody seems to choose this as the time to have extra work done—l haven't a spare minute.” ‘ That’s all right—don’t you let me hinder you a particle,” Stephen never knew what prompted him to ask as he rose, “Has your surveyoi’ anybody to look after him. or did he have to go to the hospital?” “He was boarding, but Dr. Rogers took him in after the accident, and his sister came pn ten days ago to nurse him. He has picked up wonderfully since she arrived —-I don’t wonder, such a pretty girl as that ought to cure anything.’’ Stephen had suddenly becomp all attention. “When did you say she came? And how does she look?” he inquired eagerly. The busy man laughed, “Firstly, Miss Mortimer got here a week ago last Thursday; secondly she has the finest pair of brown eyes and the waviest golden brown hair that any girl need wish for—who is in a rush now?” for Stephen started toward the door at top speed. “Have just remembered an important engagement—will see you again soon,” called back Stepheu as he vanished. All Brantford knew Dr. Rogers and Stephen made a bee line for his residence He asked the trim maid if Miss Mortimer was within, and she answered yes. Then she was requested to tell Doris that someone whose name she would not recognize, desired to speak with her on an important matter. Doris came down. She recognized Stephen and gave a cry of delight as she saw what he was holding out as he advanced to meet her. “I did not want you to think me a pickpocket, Miss Mortimer. 1 have, tried my hardest to return this to you—and you cannot imagine what a load it lifts from my conscience to do it.” “Thank you so much. I have mourned over the loss of Daddy’s pin—though of course I did not let David’ see. I suppose you haven’t the carnation too?” The question was asked eagerly, for Doris remembered what David had said about its loss. To her dismay Stephen Lorimer blushed up to his hair. “Yes-es,” he stammered. “I have it with me—did you want it?” “Only for David —” hastily explained Dorise. “A dear friend sent it to him, so it was not really mine to lose.” “Then I return it willingly.” Stephen drew a leather case from the breast pocket of his coat, and took from it a withered pink carnation. Doris tried to look very matter-of-fact as she took it, and succeeded only in blushing divinely. “My friend McArling told me ot your brother’s misfortune—don’t you think I might cheer him up a little it I came to see him now and then, Miss Mortimer?” ■ r This .proved a master stroke, for to make time pass pleasantly for David was Doris’ only thought. The pink carnation had fulfilled its purpose in life, and two weddings which occurred within the ensuing year could be di rectly charged to its account. Point She Overlooked. “No safety deposit vault red tape for me!” declared the woman who cannot help being the wife of a very rich man. “I keep my jewels in a shabby old trunk in my room. There > isn’t even a lock on it. I had to force it off one time when I mislaid the key.” 'Evidently you don’t encourage enterprise in burglars,” observed one of her hearers. “All a man would have to do would be to raise the lid. You might at least give him a little trouble. “He’d have trouble enough,” said the woman mysteriously. “Our coachman's brother Is an old perfect artist in knots’ —and he showed me how to bind up the trunk in the most complicated way, and no burglar .cbuld possibly untie it. He wouldn’t know the combination.” The only man in the group grinned. “Os course,” he murmured reflectively, “no mere man would ever dream of cutting those knots.” Measuring California Streams. Throughout California field work has been carried on by the federal survey at nearly 200 points in the measurements of the principal streams. Th* se records of the behavior ‘of rivers throughout the year, and year after year, are of the utmost importance in the consideration of all projects relating to the development of water supply for irrigation, power, etc. Tha report is available to the public. In Plunkville. “I was tricked into taking the nomination for mayor.” “Who tricked you?” “My creditors cooked it up. Os course, when I got tbe nomination I went around and paid them all something on account**

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Have you frequent headache*, a coated tongue. bitter taste in the morning, “heartburn," belching of gas, acid risings in throat after eating, stomach gnaw or burn, foul breath, dizxy spells. poor appetite! A torpid liver is the trouble in nine cases out of ten Dr. Pierce’s Golden Medical Discovery is a most efficient liver inrigurator, stomach tonie, bowel regulator and nerve Strengthener. ■■■■l Your Druggist Can Susvbr Ya®