: .4..:..~2-..-
’I‘OLD BY A JOURNAII.
BY AIMEE M. WOOD.
Here I am at last pleasantly domi-
ciled in my aunt’s house in New York.
and having disposed of my home cor-
respondence, apprising them all of my
safe arrival, I now turn to you my
dear journal.
Let me tell you a secret. I firmly
believe that Aunt Dollie has in view
the marriage 'of her step-son with my-
self. I fancy she covets for him my
.little fortune. Now I don’t care for
Claude a little bit and as for his ever
falling in love with any one outside
his immaculate self—out upon such a
wild conception of the imagination!
I came here to study music, not men.
I. intend to give undivided attention
tothe former and utterly ignore the
latter.
——
November 7.——A week has passed
since I last closed your covers, journal.
Aunt Dollie has found me a teacher,
and I have begun lessons. He, the
teacher, is grave and sedate but quite
a young man to be the father of three
children. Yes, aunt says he has a wife
and three little boys. W'ell, what does
it matter?
He plays divinely. He is handsome.
I see his'face continually while I am
practising. And his voice rings in my
ears. .
He must be much older than he
looks. He has studied in Germany.
I wonder if his wife was an Ameri-
can girl, or if he met her abroad! I
wonder if she plays! Perhaps she is
an opera singer. These men pianists
always marry singers.
I refused to! go to the Tillinghast re-
ception with Claude and my aunt, as
I wished to practise all the evening.
Nothing but technic, technic, will he
give me at first.
I detest it, and long to break my
promise to him and play a nocturnc, or
that exquisite Finland Love Song. But
I; must do as he says.
January 30.——A piece at last! And
what should it be but the Finland LOVe
Song! I idolizc that piece! He played
lt-for me and I cried. I hope he did
not notice. But the big tears would
come. Now I am at work at it, trying
to. play. it as did he.
“Read the words. Study them,” he
ordered, “then incorporate them in
your tones.”
It is the transcription by Mosenthal
he has given me. “ lead the words!”
Do I not know them by heart? Are
they not burned into every thought at
present? Can time, measured by long,
lonely years, ever avail to blot them
from my wretched future?
February 10.—-He played for me at
my lesson today the Chopin Nocturne
in C minor.
I hope no one will listen to it in fu-
ture with the heartbreak I endured
throughout its rendering.
(Chopin no doubt felt it, as he wrote
it, thinking of George Sand and his
lovefor her. It was the inspiration of
a, great love and heartache wnich he
ppured into that composition.
How he played! He must have some-
time loved deeply to be able to render
it thus.
My heart throbs yet at the memory,
and I can scarcely see for tears while
practising. Yes, he no doubt loved his
wife—loves her yet. Strange I never
see her—nor the children. Yet no one
ever comes into the studio but pupils,
so that it is not strange, either.
What eyes he has! I must write no
more :tonight.
March 18,—1 had ascene with Claude
to-day. Can he not see that I detest
him?
It began by my aunt leaving us to-
gether in the drawing room.
He took my hand and gazed into my
eyes. As I looked down into his mean-
ingless orbs, a recollection of other
eyes sent a subtle thrill through my
whole being. I dashed hastily from
my seat, nearly upsetting Claude, and
went to the window. He followed, and
I felt his arms encircling my waist.
“Will you be kind enough to leave
me in peace?" I said sternly, moving
away from him and putting a chair
between us.
“Peace! Amy, I wish I knew what
that word meant! Will you be kind
enough to grant me peace!”
"Well, I amlsorry for you,” I said at
last, coldly, “but I have told you that
before, and also that I cannot marry
you, Claude—nor any one else, for that
matter. I am going away to Italy or
Germany, or maybe to Egypt. I want
to get away somewhere!”
With the words I left the room and
betook myself to my own.
March 28.—He has given me a book
to read. “Amy Fay’s Letters.” lie
admires it very much. I wish I were
a~ writer and a musician. How do-
lightful to combine, two talents! He.
has marked some of the passages.
Here is one:—
“My whole attention Is now bent up.
on tone.. Ah, me. that’s the thing in
playing. To bring out the. soul there
is in the« key simply by touching it:
as the great masters do. It is the
pianist’s highest art, though amid the
dazzle of piano pyrotechnics the pub- .
he often forgets it."
It is just the passage for
present. I am learning slowly but
surely under his mic-taking cul-
ture, to bring out the soul tlix‘i’c is in
the key. He says no herd of praise.
But I know him well now. I feel the
approbation of his look, the kindling
of his glance.
April‘23.—Ah, me! Til-at I should
ever live to see the misery of this day
-—this night! Oh, my journal, how can
I tell you the shame, the misery, the
disgrace, that has come to me? No
more priceless viSits to his studio! No
more lessons eagerly, feverishly looked
forward to!
Today I played for him as Inevei
played before. The music took pos
me at
session of me, and I seemed to forge
wanna
all but that l" was near him. As I
finished he turned from the studio
window, where he had been standing
during‘ the whole of my playing—
:urned and drew near me.
From his lips came the first words
of praise I have ever had; from
his eyes a burning confession such as
matched the fire of my own soul.
“Miss Duval, I congratulate you. No
pupil of mine has ever equalled all
that you have achieved in six short
months.”
Oh fool, fool that I was! Could I
not see that he meant only friendly
encouragement? Why need I have
turned faint and pale, and reel into his
arms under the intoxication of his
eyes, his magnetic voice, the sweet de-
lirium of those unexpected words?
His lips upon mine brought me to
my senses. Again and again he kissed
me—over and over strained me to his
heart murmuring words which I shud-
der to remember, yet upon which my
guilty memory dwells in a sweet in-
toxication of delight.
I looked up at him, opening my eyes
wider, wider, as the dreadfulness of it
all dawned slowly upon me.
The outraged wife! The little ones
trusting a father’s love! And then
above all came suddenly to my compre-
hension the insult to myself. I flung
aside his enfolding arms and with sud-
den strength flew to the hall; snatch-
ing my hat from the rack, and push-
ing aside an entering pupil, rushed in-
to the street.
Oh, that I should have lived to see
this day!
May 20.-—I am calm now. I care not
what hrs-comes of me. I have consented
to marry Claude. He is happy. Aunt
is radiant. 1 alone am tortured——
wretched! ‘ ,
My trousseau is purchased. I gave
aunt permission to buy what she
wished and I suppose I am envied. My
outfit is certainly superb. We are to
be married in July. Claude insisted
on some day in June, but there I was
obdurate. July or never!
I’Ve shall go to Europe immediately.
My packing is all done except putting
you in, my journal. I‘ll leave you till
the last.
My head aches and 1 am going to
steal away for a quiet walk in the
park.
Midnight.~—Oh, I am so happy—happy
after weeks of misery.
He is not married—has never been.
Oh, how could aunt so cruelly deceive
me? I will leave her house forever
and fling into her step-son’s face the
flashing ring which binds my life to
his no longer! Today I went to the
park and resting (for I seem to have
no strength of late) upon a rustic
bench, watching the squirrels and list-
ening to the song of the spring birds, I
saw him approach. I felt my hands
grow icy and my heart leaped in my
throat.
He came and took the vacant place
beside me. I scarcely knew him, he
seemed so worn, so changed. And yet
I would have known him. I felt his
coming, his presence, before I saw him
in the distant path. He sat down near
me, without explanation, without
apology, even without the begging of
the privilege.
“You must listen to what I have to
to say,” he began coldly.
How thin and pale he looked. Oh,
how my guilty heart ached in pity for
him! I felt I ought to rise and Spurn
him from me, yet I sat silent, motion-
less, speechless, as one in a dream.
“I have but a few words to speak,”
he continued, looking straight before
him into the vista of trees beyond us.
“I owe you an apology which I can
never blame you for not accepting.
Neither can I blame you for giving no
heed to my letters.”
“Letters!” I gasped the word faintly.
“My letters,” he repeated. “Did you
not receive them?’
“Never!”
“You did not receive them?”
He repeated the words as though
dazed, brushing his forehead slowly
with a thin white hand.
“I have never received one line from
“you!”
He turned his eyes upon mine. I re-
coiled at the eager gaze fixed upon me
as though to search my soul.
“0, pure, honest eyes! I cannot doubt
them!” he exclaimed. He rose and
took my hands, drawing me to my
feet.
“Amy Duval, send me from you if
you will, but hear me this once, I love
you! You are the only woman I have
ever loved.”
“Your wife!” _
The words came faintly from my
lips, but their effect upon him was
electrical.
“My wife!" Amazement filled his
tones—expressed itself vividly upon his
pale countenance. “Who told you I
'as married? he asked at last, fierce-
ly.
“My aunt."
A succession of changes came over
his face. The-re was silence for many
moments, then be mixed his eyes from
the ground, fixing then. again on my
own.
"And you have thought so—how
long?" '
"From the first."
“It is false—Amy! You oelicve me?"
“Yes.” .
He drew me to him. There were no
spectators but the squirrels and we
1311 not care for them.
"My letters, Amy. What could have
been——-"
* =II at t * II t
I have had a long talk with aunt.
She cried and begged me to forgive
her. and from the heights of my bliss
[have promised both to forgive and
forget. Claude will find another heiress
to support him. I shall go to Europe
but not with him.
Good-night my journal!
you- in my trunk now.
Good-by!
I will put
Good-by!
I
g
I
Y ..
mos COLLARS THE LATEST Thing-.6
A Gray Gown and Gray Feather 1952‘.
Very Fetching.
“Is she well dressed?" is a signifi-
cant question in these days when the
fashionably attired woman who
possesses that mysterious, indefina-
ble charm called “style” is considered
decidedly more attractive than the
merely pretty woman without this en-
viable quality.
Among the latest ideas in dress is
the gray skirt of barege, cashmere,
’ cloth, or taffeta silk, worn with vari—
, ous waists as a substitute for the black
silk one which has done duty so long.
' Lace and chiffon bodices, in white,
i cream, or very delicate tint, and made
,with transparent sleeves, are exceed-
' ingly pretty with the pale gray skirt.
,Gray is surely the color of the mo-
I ment for wool gowns and many other
I features of dress, and the contrast be-
tween this Quaker shade and the bril-
liant reds which dominated dress earl-
ier in the season is certainly very
l
I
. «'
~~m-~
.., .
‘2”
striking. A pale pink silk bodice trim-
med with black velvet ribbon and
, steel beads makes a lovely combination
I with the gray skirt. A gray gown and
{a gray feather boa are two things to
1 be desired if you would be in the latest
{fashion; yet there are compensations
among other colorings which can be
made to answer very nicely if the gray
gown is an impossibility. Gray is a
color which must be chosenvery care-
fully or it will prove most unbecom-
ing; but the fashion for color in the
bodice does away with many of the
objections to this trying shade. Shot
gray and mauve silk makes a stun-
ning gown trimmed with black lace
insertion set in to show the White silk
underneath.
One little accessory of dress which
Is very fetching is the necktie, of net.
silk, or mull, with lace ends, which
folds narrowly around the lower edge
of the cellar band, and ties in front in
a. four-imhand knot; again it appears
as a short bow made of two accordion-
plaited ends.
The details of trimming and finish
on the summer gowns are the most
telling points in fashion this season,
and the little ends of ribbon and frill
of lace or hemstitched batiste set in
It the back of the neckband make a
vast difference in the becOming effect.
Wide collars of linen trimmed with up-
plique lace are seen on wool gowns,
and wide collars of different shapes
ind materials are a distinct feature 0i
.he latest dresses.
5:.
l\ o a w A La - o A Z l: 'r 'r I:
QUEEN VICTORIA‘S ENGINEER. I
Precautions Taken to Safeguard Her Ball.
way Journeys.
“Everybody knows that extra cart
is exercised whenever her Majesty
travels by rail," remarked George La
sham, familiarly known among rail
way men as the “Queen’s driver,” to
the writer one day recently, “but few
people realize how thorough and com-
plete are the precautions taken td
guard against any and every possible
danger.”
Mr. Lasham, it may be explained
has driven the “Royal Special” over
the London and Southwestern system
for nearly forty years, and is there-
fore an authority on the subject.
“Before every journey,” he ex-
plained, “no matter how short the dis
tance may be, the engine and tender
attached to the special are carefully
examined by the chief locomotive su-
perintendent. A pilot engine precedes
the train, all ordinary traffic is sus-
pended, and the line for the whple dis-
tance is watched by relays of plate-
layers. To the driver are given the
most explicit instructions as to speed,
stoppages, etc., to disregard any 01
which would be to court instant dis‘
missal. Printed instructions are given
to every official accompanying the
train, who is strictly forbidden to give
any information respecting the ar.
rangement-s.
“When any special danger is appre-
hended the ordinary precautions are
redoubled. For instance, during the
dynamite scare in the jubilee year, ev-
ery piece of coal used in the furnace
Wasbroken into little bits in the pres-
ence of an official before being loaded
on the tender, and the interior of the
boiler was carefully examined and
scraped. rI‘he object was, of course,
the same in both instances—to guard
against the introduction of explo-
sives."—Answers.
A LIBERAL HOSPITALITY.
An Irish Gentleman’s Unique Mfanner ol
Entertalnnlent.
Some years ago a San Francisco
banker maintain-ed a country house
upon what were sumiosed to be entire.
1y original lines. It was, however, a
poor imitation of the establishment of
Mr. Matthew of Thom-aston, Ireland,
who lived in the earlier years of the
last-century. Mr. Mathew inherited
an annual income of about $125,000.
For many years he lived abroad in a
very frugal manner in order to accu~
mulate an amount that would enable
him to indulge in a form of hospital-
ity in his own country in harmony
with the plan he had devised. His
house in Ireland might be compared
in size with a. modern hotel. Each of
those he wanted to visit him had a
suite of apartments and ordered his
meals at the hour that best suited
him. He could eat alone or he could
invite others to join him. All the vis-
itors hunted, shot, fished, played bil-
liard's or cards at will, and all brought
their own horses. There was a regu-
lar bar where drinks were served
'vvithout stiint. Mr. Mathew as host
completely effaced himself. He min-
gled with the visitors as one whose
stay was as definitely fixed as theirs.
In fact 'he conducted his house as if it
were a hotel, with the exception that
all was without charge. No servant
was allowed 'to accept a tip. Viol-as
tion of this rule was followed by the.
instant dismissal of the ofiender. This
establishment, unlike other country
houses of Ireland of the period, was
conducted with perfect order and
method and without waste. His hos—
pitality was lavish, and attracted to
Mr. Matthew all of the more famous
men of the time.—i\'ew York Sun.
ONE OF THE JOBS OF CHEMISTS.
Analyze Food for Old Men ‘Vho Think
Young \Vlves “7151: Their Demise.
Chemists sometimes have queer ex-
periences. The following facts were
told by a professor in one of our W est-
ern universities: “For about ten years
I have made a specialty of examining
and reporting upon cases of real or
suspected poisoning. As a number of
my cases have been connected with
murder trials, I have had considerable
notice in the daily papers. This repu-
tation for making analyses for poisons
has brought me a queer class of pa-
trons.
“Every year I have one or more old
men come to me with samples of food
to be eta-mined for poison. These
men, without exception, have married
young wives, and when the husband
is taken sick and does not recover as
quicklyjaas he thinks he should, he be-
gins toisuspect that his young wife
wants toget rid of him, and is poison-
ing him gradually through the me-
dium of his food. Of course he does
not want his wife to know of his sus-
picions, so he quietly gets a sample of
the food he suspects, and at some un-
usual hour for work, generally either
early in the morning or very late in
the evening. he comes to me and tells
me very secretly that he wishes to
have an examination for poison made.
“Now, the odd part of that, though
I have made a number of such analy-
ses, I have never found poison present
in any case. Then the husband is.
very much afraid that his wife will
find out he suspected her, and he gets
out of my laboratory in the quickest
and quietest manner possible—Chi-
cago Journal.
___——4 ..__...-—
Not a Conventional Bankrupt.
“I don’t think you ought to be so hit
ter against the president of the Bus:
upp Bank,” said the pastor. “Remem-
ber, brother-[that he lost all of his om
money as well as some of yours.”
“That is jist what riles me,” salt
the brother With the long upper ii;
and the mouth that. looked as if it hill
been made with an ax. “To think 0
losin’ my money to a blame fool!"-
lndlanapol’is Journal. '
, pool.
LIVE MOUSE IN A GAMECOCK'S CRAW
the Rooster Was Operated Upon and His
Life Saved.
“1 always knew that game roosters
were thoroughly up to date in every-
thing and always ready to fight any-
thing, whether it be a circular saw or
a bald-headed eagle,” said Chief Clerk
Roome of Assistant Manager Fay‘s of-
fice in the Southern Pacific building,
“but it was a revelation to me to see a.
gamecock act the part of a rat terrier.
I saw a black-breasted red wade into
a. covey of mice that Dr. Mercier had
corralled for the bird’s amusement,
and inside of six minutes the rooster
had killed sixteen of the'rodents and
had eaten eight of the covey. The
doctor says that bird has a particular
fondness for mice, and never seems to
get enough.
“Some time ago, after a diet of the
mice, the rooster grew sick. He lost
his appetite, and seemed about to give
up the ghost, and the doctor was great-
ly worried byause of this fact. After
treating the fowl for a couple of days
he chloroformed him and dissected the
crow. To his astonishment he found
three mice in this portion of the bird’s
anatomy, one of them still alive. The
mouse had govten its tail into the
small entrance leading to the bird’s
gizzard, and consequently had put a
stop to the digestion of the rooster.
The mouse must have realized this and
that it was his sole chance of life, for
when the doctor attempted to with-
draw the tail the mouse set up an aw-
ful squeakingand feebly objected to the
process. To make the matter more in-
teresting, the gizzard has gripped the
end of the mouse’s tail and would not
let go.
“Between the two. the rooster came
very near dying, but upon the mouse
and tail being removed and the craw
sewed up again, the bird speedily re-
covered, but now it runs from a mouse
as if it were a bull terrier.—-New 0r-
leans Times—Democrat.
HATS OFF IN THIS CHURCH.
the Experiment so Satisfactory that They
Predict; Great. Results from the Start.
There is nothing slow about the'good
women of Indianapolis, and the men
out that way can’t accuse them of do-
ing things by halves. They not only
remove their hats in theatres and oth-
er places of public amusement, but
have put their veto on the church hat.
It all came about in this way: In
the First Baptist Church of that city
there was an organization called the
Women’s Circle. It has a membership
of 125, including many prominent so-
ciety women. At a recent meeting a
member suggested that it would be an
excellent idea for those belonging to
the circle to remove their hats in
church, and that all the Women in the
congregation would be sure to follow
their good example. The suggestion
took like the measles in a free school
and was hastily put in the shape of a
resolution. The president of the circle
was enthusiastic over the idea, and
spoke in favor of the resolution, which
was adopted unanimously. The wom-
en decided that every member should
remove her hat the following Sunday,
and the congregation was amazed
when they saw it done. The men in
the congregation were so enthusiastic
concerning the stand taken by the cir-
cle that the ladies of all the other
churches in that city are said to be
talking about following the example of
their Baptist sisters, and many pre-
dict that the movement will spread to
other cities—New York Sun.
HARVARD MAN A PAUPER.
W. E. Cutter was Once Rich and a Mem-
ber of Exclusive Clubs.
W. E. Cutter has just been admitted
to the Worcester, Mass, poorhouse af-
ter a varied and romantic career.
Ten years ago Mr. Cutter had a fine
house in Linden street, in the “swell”
residence part of the town, belonged to
the most exclusive clubs and was a
great favorite. He is a graduate of
Harvard, and one of the best industrial
chemists in the State. He was propri-
etor of successful copper and venetian-
red mills.
Eight years ago he sold out his busi-
ness and moved to Waukegan, Ill.
Then came a family trouble, which
was ended a few years ago in divorce,
the result of a mutual agreement to
part.
After leaving Waukegan Mr. Cutter
went to Ohio and engaged in business.
There he married in 1895, a Mrs. Ga-
one].
A few days ago he turned up in Wor-
cester again, penniless and despondent,
and applied for admission to the poor-
house, not letting his friends know of
his presence in the ally.
Chinese Sailors and the Fire Drill.
On a certain man-of—war on the Pa-
cific station a. few years ago the oili-
cers had Chinese servants, and al-
though thoy cranld scarcely speak a
word of Eng sh, they were quick to
learn what was shown to them, and
soon did like clorkwor-ir the fire drill
with buckets. One day there was a
real fire. Voiuzauss of sn.:.. 5e poured up
from the fore hold, and it took several
streams of water nearly an hour to put
out the flames. When the fire. was un-
der control some one thought of the
Chinamen, and behold! there they
were, ranged in line and in plain sight
of the smoking hatchw-ay, rapidly
passing their bucket... alone, and emp-
tying them over the ravs side, as they
had been taught to (la—Se. lirichoias.
An American naval officer, wishing
to bathe in a Ceylon river, asked a na-
tive to show him to a place where
there were no alligators. The native
took him to a pool close to the estuary.
The officer enjoyed his dip. While
drying himself, he asked his guide why
there were never any alligators in that
“Because, saih,” the Cingalese
.mplie'd, “they plenty ’fraid of shark!"
SOLOMON’S MINES YIELDING AGAIN.
No Doubt that They Once Belonged to tho
" (float King.
Strange as it may seem, the same
mysterious mines from 'wh-ich King»
Solomon obtained this fabulous amount
of gold, copper and other precious
metals are also being worked by mod-
ern miners! Even after fully 4,000
years these ancient mines are still
yielding precious metal for the enrich-
ment of man.
Wonderful, indeed, are these ancient
works that have witnessed the rise
and fall of empire and now remain as
a monument of Solomon’s great en-
gineering skill; V ,
They are near the" town of Cardo‘va,
Spain.‘ What they-were called in an-
cient times is unknown, but of the
fact that they were King Solomon’s
own mines there is no doubt.
Professor Alexander Hill, one of the
greatest mining experts of the present
day, has carefully examined these
mines for the Spanish government, and
confirmed the theory that has for years
been held by. scientists and scholars
of ancient research, that these ancient
workings were indeed King Solomon’s
mines. .
“The mines,” he says. “were worked
by the Phoenicians in 2,000 B. C., and
it was here that King Solomon un-
doubtedly obtained much of the metal
for the Temple. In my investigations
of these ancient mines I discovered
many wonderful things.
“It was wonderful to perceive how
much this ancient people knew about
mining. I was astonished to see how
systematically their tunnels and drifts
were run. Kng Solomon’s miners
were evidently magnificent engineers,
as good as any we have at the present
day, and. they carried on their work
on the most scientific principles.
“Their tunnels were much the same
as our own. There was no shoddy
work in cutting them out of the living
rock. Many of the timbers originally
put in these mines by the ancient
workers are yet preserved. They
stand there, covered with the accumu-
lated dirt and metallic coatings of
ages, in the same position they were
placed in when the metal for the Tem-
ple was being taken out.
“From out of a deep and weird pas»
sage, four hundred feet under the
earth, we took one of the oak water
wheels and carried it to the surface,
Where the copper was taken off. The
wheel was found to be in perfect con-
dition. Time had evidently not
wrought its ravages upon this ancient
mining device. Living hands once
more grasped the long levers, as they
were held when in daily operation for-
ty hundred years ago.”
It, is strange how Solomon came to
discover these treasure caves. Neither
history nor the Bible makes any ref-
erence to the manner in which he
found them. They were far away
from the place of his birth. It is
thought more than likely that Hiram,
King of Tyre, was the real finder, and
that he communicated the discovery to
Solomon, who at once proceeded to ex-
tract the metal. What is new South-
ern Spain was then the richest and
most valued of the Phoenician posses—
sions. The land was a mine of wealth
to them, and Hiram was well ac-
quainted with its great caves and
riches. So great was its wealth in
gold, silver, copper and precious met~
als that even “the ships of the Phoe-
nicians carried silver anchors.”
It was at this time that Hiram
journeyed to Jerusalem. where he met
’ Solomon and took part in the building
of the Temple. He became a gold-
smith, as it were, to Solomon, and it
was he that furnished the Temple
with such stores of precious metals
from the mines of Spain that silver
soon became so common that it “ac‘
counted as nothing in the Temple,”
as we read in the first book of Kings.
—New York Herald.
The Art of Breathing.
How do you breathe? is now the
question. Do you breathe through the
mouth or nostrils? It makes a won-
derful difference.-
When not speaking, the lips should
be well closed, and the breathing
should be entirely by the nostrils; but
this is not all. The habit of slow,
measured, deep breathing that covers
the entiredung surface is of more value
and importance than you will ever be-
lieve until you have tried it; and when
you have established the habit of
breathing in this manner you will say
some very remarkable things in its
favor.
If you have been subject to any kind
of throat or bronchial affection, you
will pronounce deep nostril breathing
“a wonderful discovery” for you.
From often being very hoarse every
winter you may have the happiness
of being entirely free from this afflic-
tion. And the advantage will not stop
here It will reach other points of your
physical system. All the benefits that
occur from a healthy condition of the
blood will. in a greater or less degree.
be yours, for the manner and" complete-
ness with which the inspired air comes
in contact with the blood in the lungs
is of the utmost importance to every
vital process—Philadelphia Ledger.
Well Equipped—“Is your daughter
properly equipped for literary work?"
asked the editor.
“Equipped? I’ve bought her a Louis
somebody desk, a fountain-pen, a. sil-
ver inkstand and a muther-of-pearl
penholder, besides the most expensive
stationery on the market. I guess that
comes pretty'near being a literary out-
fit."——Detroit Free Press.
“Bobby asked me what a continu
ous performance was." '
“What did you tell him?” .
. “I said that the tariff discussion was
as near as I could come to it.”—Chi-
cago Record;
4
Norwalk Chronicler