: ..-...-...~A. ..
fHE MYSTERY,
-—OF THE—-
MASKED MINE.
BY FRANK H. NORTON.
CHAPTER I.
WT WAS THE DAY
‘ 'after a storm. The
line of white sand lay
gleaming in the light
of the morning sun;
great crested waves
rolled seething past
the breakers, and so
on to the beach,
.,,_. where they ilungthem-
._ " selves with a dull sul-
len roar; sea gulls whirled screaming
above the waters, peering into the
depths below for unwary fish. Above,
on til-l slight elevation that rose gradu-
ally from the shore, the long white ho-
tel, with its broad sheltered piazza; be-
low, the steamboat wharf, now filled
with those who were about making
their daily trip to the city, and those
other-i to whom the two events of the
day wvre the arrival and departure of
"the boat," and puffing and whistling
in seeming desire to be off, the steam-
boat itself. This was the scene.
Groups of ladies and gentlemen ling-
ered near the gang-plank engaged in
making theircustomary adieux. Saun-
tering promenaders strolled, or stood
idly flirting, jesting, or what not. All
the usual bustling of a fashionable
watering place in the height of. the 5 ea-
son was visible.
Two persons stood near together, ap-
parently somewhat more seriously en-
‘gaged than the butterfly throng about
them. One wasa man nearing mid-
dle age, tall, strongly made,forceful ;the
other was a graceful woman, refined,
cultivated,» With the nameless charm
which breeding bestows endowing her
lavishly. The one, as it were, subdued
his manhoodand his physical and mental
strength in generous subordination to
the sxvee: ideal of which this woman was
the symbol and the expression; the
other assumed her supremacy, and wore
it, as it were a garment,gracefully. And
none could have told of these two by
their hearing that the one was fired bya
passion which was the burden and yet
the blessing of his life, while the other
contemplated this and recognized it, yet
only hat relented from a purpose to
which he was only an obstacle, the while
she seemed to him to have sunk self in
his behalf, and to be’waiting for events
to let her life bear testimony b0 her love
and her fidelity.
The last bell of the steamboat sounded
itswarning call, and the two clasped
hands. .
"I on poor; I may be absent long.
Will you be true to me? ”
“ is it possible you doubt me? ”
“No; you are the one being, Grace,
hat I cannot doubt. Goodbyl God in
heaven bless you, and keep you for
me 2 ”
He wrung her hand, sprang lightly
upon the boat as 1L..- plank was with-
drawn, and stood, hat in hand, watch-
ing her, as the gay little craft steamed
out of the bay, round the point, and
into the ocean beyond. While the boat
was in sight, Grace Cameron stood
where he had left her, looking after it,
anal occasionally waving her handker-
chief in the direction of the fast disap-
pearing figure. When his form could be
no longer discerned she turned in the
direction of the hotel, walking slowly
and alone—alone, however, but for a
moment. Before she had gained the
end of the wharf a slight, graceful-look-
ing young man stepped from behind a
post and joined her.
“\You did that exceedingly well,
Grace.” No answer, unless a. scornful
shrug of her pretty shoulders could be
translated as one. The young man
sauntered lazily at her side, flicking
pebbles out of his way, as he walked,
with a light cane which he carried.
“ Exceedinglywell,” he continued, mus-
ingiy. “With a man like Lorimer, tears
would have been absurd; they are bad
form anyway. 05 course to be joeular
was not to be thought of for a moment;
he is in earnest. Altogether, Icommend
you. Serious, but not dull; apprecia-
tive, without weakness; capitally well
played.”
”Do you know of what you remind me,
Carl Brandcgce? ”
“ Well, no, not
juncture.”
“ A sneak-thief.”
“ Good heavens ! Grace—Miss
eron, take that back.”
" Iwill not. You had not the moral
pr :cisely—at this
Cam-
-bravery to pit yourself against Ralph
Lorimer, man to man; but you have
stolen in, likea thief in the night—
Heaven knows how—and take from him
what was his, what he still believesto
be his, and what he values more than
life—my love. How you have done this,
Carl,surpasses my comprehension. And
that too alter knowing you all my life!
At this momentI contemn myself for
that loving. Now go!”
He had recovered himself by this time,
and lifting his hat courteously, he left
her side and loungcd across the lawn,
away from the hotel, saying nothing.
Grace turned a moment, and looked out
toward the sea. Then she hurridly en-
tered the hotel and repaired to her
room.
As Carl continued his walk along the
sea~wall be reflected on many things.
As for Miss Cameron’s temporary ebul-
lition of spite‘, he thought little of it.
“It was beaStly bad form, though,” he
said to himself; “ but she will get over
it, and be sending for me before sun-
down ”—-a prediction he might very well
make, judging by previous similar
instances, and yet in which he might
easily be wrong.
Itwould have been difficult to define
for which of Mr. Carl Brandegee’s
numerous peculiarities, idiosyncrasies,
and characteristics this beautiful and
intelligent young heiress had given him
her heart, or imagined she had. Doubt-
less, however, her training had much to
do with her views on the subject. Carl
was, to be sure, on available parti; he
possessed a‘large‘ fortune, and had a
valuable and: growing clientele in Wall
Street, where he had the reputation of
being successful, which usually brings
success. He was, «for this reason, a
favorite with Cameron pare, while
Cam ,ron mere delighted. in. him as a
young‘man who‘was always in the way
when wanted, and’never at anyother
time; a good entertainer. good 4 dancer,
good diner mat.- ~ Besides, his family was
, unimn‘eachable, ~ho.‘,had ano‘ vices—the
Camel-one had known, ,‘=.from ‘chllda
hood—and Qracewug’ u . ‘orently, in lave
with him- 11.9.,qu occurrence .. of .a
girl beingin'doy'q .With:‘ a pbrfectlyirreeu
proachabl'e ”moment! .thcr oneseleclted;
for her .byher. pawn.“ f 9110ch yin
itself to. make .thei situation simuly;
charming to those mamas: 9H1 W83."
Ad w rtise in the Gaza-mfg '
WEEKLY - NORWALK - GAZETTE.
however, a great deal more shrewd that
the most of young men—~even Wall
‘treet young men—and there was one
irritating fact which he did not in the
least attempt to disguise from his own
recognition. He was entirely sure that
if Ralph Lorimer possessed his money
and his business, he, Carl Brandegee,
would never have the slightest chance
either of retaining Grace's affections, or
obtaining her father’s millions. He
made no mistake about that. He knew
better than Grace did her own lazy,
tropical nature; luxurious, self-deceiv-
ing, willful, and irrational. He knew
also that while he had succeeded in
causing her surface character to become
predominant, it only required the right
contact. conditions and opportunity to
sweep that away forever, andiouse from
the depths her true.womanly being.
Carl was Well informed concerning the
difference between the surface and the
under nature of humanity. He had been
a capital study for himself in this regard
during all his adult life. To those whom
he met in society he was courteous,
genial, somewhat reticent and quiet, but
considered good company. In business
he was sagacious, cool, and imperturba-
ble, yet bold and aggressive. Under all
this he was unscrupulous. wary, im-
placable when crossed, devoid of every
singie kindly quality. Behind an
exterior manner which was calm and
placid, apparently unemotional, there
was a will that was indomitable, nerves
of steel, and a heart of stone. He was a
natural accumulator of wealth, without
being a miser; ambitious of social posi-
tion, jealous of interlopers, scheming,
and cunning. He took heavy risks, and
needed enormous wealth and vast credit
to enable him to carry out plans which
were gigantic. In' his entire nature
there was but one artistic flaw; he
would not move until he got ready, nor
vary his plans to suit the actions of
other people. That was why he had not
married Grace Cameron long before;.if
he had, this story could not have been
written.
The Lorimer episode had been spon-
taneous, and under culture would have
been lasting. Grace had met him while
Brandegee was away in Europe, and
while also the latter was stillconsidgged
only an old friend of the family. A: ‘: n-
mer’s aesociation with Lorimer, juiw l' ~-
turned from a professional tour al. _-_,
the Colorado mines, had given Gram :n
entirely novel experience—intimate no i
and constant association with a. man
who was calculated to be her natural
ideal. Professinga profound and comp
prehensive mind, Lorimer united with
it the most delicate sensibility and a
passionate nature, whose fire gave force
and determination to the most absolute
loyalty to love or friendship. Strong
and brave, physically attractive, tender
and gentle to all women, but exquisitely
so to the woman he loved; no sooner
had Grace discovered that she was the
object of his love than her whole being
seemed to go outto him as to one who
was at once her lover and master. But
an untoward occurrence brought about
separation; Carl returned, and learning
what had happened, used all his ready
wiles to over-come it; the necessity for
love had been aroused, the lover was
absent, and so the affair had reached the
stage at which we find it.
CHAPTER II.
Ralph Lorimer on his way to Lima,
whence he was to proceed a. few score
miles into the interior of Peru, there to
direct the operations of a party of
miners already engaged in examining a
claim which had recently fallen into the
possession of Lorimer’s employers and
partners. For the young man had re-
fused to undertake this journey and its
succeeding labors without afair interest
in the speculation ; and though actually
in receipt of but a small salary. he was
also the owner of a tenth share in the
product of the mine he was about to
work. For various reasons Ralph had
communicated this latter fact to no one;
and the elegant and worldly-wise young
belle of two seasons—who had been
drawn into her genuine though super-
ficial attachment for her lover by his
sympathetic qualities—had no hope for
his future beyond his scan-t pay and
chapter of accidents. Moreover, she had
little faith in her own career should she
marry him, since her prospective pos-
sessions were dependent on the caprice
of her father, to whose thinking Ralph
Lorimer was an unpromising candidate
for the situation of son-in-law to 3. mil-
lionaire banker. .
From New York to Aspinwall by
steamer, thence by rail across the Isth-
mus of Panama—that wonderful tropical
journey whose romantic beauties even
the iron horse and his burden cannot
limit, nor the faintly possible canal con-
strain—and Lorimer found himself in
the quaint, half-civilized town of Pan-
ama; whose 01d and new quarters bind
together the civilization of the sixteenth
and nineteenth centuries. Here, while
waiting a few days for the steamer to
leave for Calico, Lorimer made the ac-
quaintance of a quaint Yankee—a prac-
tical miner—whose name was Ben Day,
andbvho, according to his own story, had
mined all the way from Fraser River to
Arizona, with varying success, some-
times having “yanked euough yaller
metal to go down. to ’Frisco and have a.
thunderin' big bust.” and more times
being in the same “ ’Frisco ” a “ hewer
of wood and drawer of water,” and a
customary and impecunious patron, of
the numerous “ free lunch ” counters for
which the hospitable city is famous.
Just now Ben was “clean down,” and
anxious to get something to do “ back of
Lima,” as he put it. He had worked
his passage from San Francisco on 3. Pa-
cific Mail steamship, and was half starv-
ing in Panama, waiting for luck. Lori-
mer took to the big-hearted, shrewd,
half-childlike fellow, and perceiving from
his conversation that he was really a
competent, practical miner, and having
the company’s authority to make such
an engagement, be determined to take
him to Lima. The company’s drafts on
a Limanese banker gave him ample
funds to accomplish this; and so, on the
arrival of the steamer, Ben Day de-
lightedly accompanied him on board, his
entire luggage being contained in a. can-
vas bag which he carried slung over one
shoulder.
The delightful voyage south was made
without any important incident, and in
about four days our party were put
ashore at Callao, the seaport of Lima.
Lorimer was anxious to get to the local-
ity where his men were at work, and so
he hastened to engage mules and guides
from Lima, whither he had at once re-
paired on reaching Callao, the latter city
being only six miles distant from the
capital. It required. however, a week’s
pretty constant effort and labor to
arrange for the transportation of them-
selves and party. At length, however,
all was prepared, and Lorimer, ,Ben Day,
(and um guides, with two extra mules
for luggage, set out on their journey to
the, mountains. Their course lay first
’along‘ the banks; of the Rimacgavsm'ail
‘otream which flo‘ws‘thr‘o’ugh the city of‘
Lima; and thence. branching southeast-
J obPrint-in 9: neatly den 9' at this office
ward, directly into the Cordilleras, or
Andes, through the noted pass to Pasco,
near which plaCe, in the department of
J unin, and fourteen thousand feet above
the level of the sea, was the “Ben Tro-
vato” mine, which was the object of
Lorimer’s journey.
The mine was an ancient one, worked,
as Lorimer had beed informed, perhaps
before Pizarro; certainly, if local tradi-
tion could be believed, by the old Span-
iards at the time of their invasion, in the
sixteenth century. It had long rested
unfruitful, but a suspicion of its value
having reached the knowledge of certain
New York capitalists, it had been quietly
prospected to some extent during the.
year preceding the period or our story.
The local superintendent had not made
very encouraging reports to his em-
ployers, but the company had faith, and
Lorimer, who had been educated as a
mining engineer, had been engaged and
sent out supplied with tie necessary
means to insure thorough and scien-
tific operations.
_On the evening of the arrival of the'
party from Lima, Mr. Hardy, the super-
intendent. was invited to a conference
by Lorimer, which was held at the rough
shanty which was the latter’s residence ;
a log hut, containing but one room, with
two bunks built on one side, near a fig».-
place—the latter needed constantly “' r-
ing the wet season; a. rude tab‘ ,ufld
two or three chairs, and a clothes-press
in one corner—these constituted what
had been hitherto the manager‘s do-
mestic establishment; and here, by the
light of an oil lamp on the table between
them, Lorimer and the superintendent
held their conference.
“The fact is, Mr. Lorimer.” said
Hardy, after they had lighted their
pipes as a preliminary, “ since I wrote
to the company 1 have made discoveries
which materially change the aspect of
affairs. I line now that I totally under-
valued this mine.
worked it before—-maybe the Spaniards,
maybe the ancient Peruvians—knew a
grad deal more about mining than we
gave them credit for. Whoever it was,
worked pretty much as we do—dug a
shalt, and laid out galleries at levels a
hundrei feet apart, and timbered care-
fully as they proceeded. We struck the
200-foot'level about three months ago,
having passed through rich ore, and
cleared as we went. But there we were
stopped by what seemed to be the end
of the diggin's—the bottom of the shaft,
in fact—and the outlook was not very
rich, I reported as I did. Somehow,
though, I was not altogether satisfied
that this was the whole mine Every-
thing seemed solid enough under foot,
but there was a difference in the lay of
the bottom rock that made me think it
had been at some time disturbed.
“ I lay awake nights thinking this out;
but it was no use, and I began to take
soundings. We bored into the rock at
different places straight down, as I did
not care to excavate unless my suspic-
ions should prove true, believing that
what was already exposed would pay
for working at least. At last one day
we hit it. The boring rod went plump
through the rock, and struck into some-
thing totally difierent—soft—and which
eventually proved to be—wood."
“Wood i” said Lorimer, surprised.
“ By Jove! I begin to see.”
" Of course you do. The miners, forced
for some reason to leave their work, had
masked the approach to the real mine
by setting solid rock over the workings,
and covering this with refuse. This
hadalso become solid in the course of
centuries by the action of natural
forces, and a perfect hiding had been
the result. I knew you were coming
out, and determined to wait your ar-
rival before proceeding. But as soon as
you are ready we will tackle the ‘ mask,’
and if I am any judge, we will ‘ strike it
rich.’ ”
“Of course you did right, Mr. Hardy,
and we will go at it the first thing to-
morrow. Tell off men you can trust for
this, for it must be kept quiet.”
“Well, I can trust any of them. With
aview to this, I have watched my men
and have weeded out the bad ones. As
to the nativeS, they pay no attention to
anything but hoisting rock and water,
which is what they are paid for.”
“ And, by-the-way,” continued Mr.
Lorimer, “make a place for the man I
brought with me; Ben Day is his name.
He is apractical miner, whom I found
strapped in Panama, and from what I
have seen of him I should judge he
would be a useful fellow to you.”
The superintendent looked at Lori-
mer steadily while the latter was speak-
ing; then he appeared thoughtful for a
moment. “ I tell you frankly. Mr. Lori-
mer, one has to be careful whom he
picks up on this coast. Every port is
crowded with adventurers, and you can’t
in the least tell what you’re getting from
what they say. Suppose we have this
man in till I look him over?”
Lorimer's countenance contracted in-
to a slight frown. He was not in the
least suspicious in his nature, and his
experience of life thus far had not
taught him to imagine an enemy in
every new acquaintance. This was per—
haps because his position had not ren-
dered him open to attack; perhaps be«
cause he was right; who shall say?
“By all means call him in,
Hardy,” he said, coldly.
The superintendent saw plainly what
kind of a spirit he had awakened by his
suggestion ofa doubt. but he was not
the one to draw back from his purpose
on that account. Stepping to the door
of the cabin, he called one of the. men,
and directed that Ben Day should be
sent to him, as Mr. Lorimer wished to
see him.
“I don’t want to see him,” says the
letter. “ I am perfectly satisfied.”
“ Let me have my way, sir, please; it
will do no harm.”
“All right; go ahead ;” and Lorimer
proceeded to fill his pipe. .
In a few minutes there was a knock at
the door, and in answer to Hardy’s
“come in,” the big fellow slouched into
the cabin, with a short pipe in his mouth
and his hands in his breeches pocket,
removing one of these, however, to take
off his broad-brimmcd, ragged Panama
hat as he entered.
Mr.
“ This is Mr. Hardy, Ben, the superin-
'_ tained. -
tendent, ” said Lorimer.
“Sarvcnt sir ;” and Ben executed a
bow that doubled up his long frame, at
the same time, “takingin” Mr. Hardy
with one keen glance.
“Sit down, my man,” said the latter,
pointing to a. chair; and Ben seated
himself accordingly. Then the follow-
ing colloquy took place, Hardy asking
the questions, and Lorimer sitting
quietly and listening:
“ Been mining, have you?”
“Rather.”
“How long?" "
“Since ’58, when I started at Fraser
River.” .
“Howold areyou?”
“Forty-four last March."
“Commenced young.“
' “‘Not.very.- .I was twenty-two when 1
went up:t9 Fraser-32 .
, Hero Mr. Hordyxwen’t through a silent
arithmetical problem.
Advertise in the Gianna.
You see, the men who ’
\ ['08th t‘o” ' ___ «
."How did you make out at Fraser?"
“Pearly; it'Was a. blamed fraud."
“But you kept on in that line ?"
“Yes; worked my way down into Cal-
ifornia. and kept at it."
. "Make out any better ?"
“Well take one. year with another I
did pretty well. Worked on wages there
for a while, and then went up in Ne-
vada. There I did pretty fair, spending
my money as fast as I got it, and that
brought me along to Colarado times, and
then I made a strike. Staked out a claim
that happened to be where Leadville is
now, and sold‘out in the flush times, and
had a bankful.”
,F8“"],Z'hat brings you down to about ’77 or
4 . -
“You just hit it. I sold out in ’78,
Went down to ’Frisco, splurged around
there ever since, and then slid down to
Panama, thinking I’d get across, and
work my way back to New York
on a steamer. There I got stuck,
though, and couldn’t get across, unless
I walked, and I was kinder waitin'
round, with an eye in this direction,
when I met Mr. Lorimer;” and he
bobbed his head toward that gentlemen.
“Do you know anything besides placer
mining?"
“Placer mining!” (contemptuously.)
“Why, stranger, I worked on the 900 foot
level in the Consolidated in Virgina."
“All right; I guess you’ll do; to-mor-
row I’ll set you to work.”
“Thank ye. sir. Anything else?”
“No more t )-night. You can hunt up
Collier; he’s foreman of one of the
gangs— any of the men will find him for
you—and tell him I say he’s to find you
ea place to bunk and give you rations."
“Thank ye, sir;” and with another
scrape, Ben Day slouched out again.
“Well, Mr. Hardy, what do you think
of him?" said Lorimer, when the door
had closed, and the retiring footsteps
were unheard.
‘ ‘ You will probably be surprised at my
saying that I distrust the man.”
” No, I am not surprised.”
“Why? ”
“Because I think you are naturally
suspicious ;" and Lorimer’s face flushed
a little as he spoke.
“ Well, it’s clear you are not, Mr. Leri-
mer, and I honor you for it. But it does
not follow, as you might reason, that I
dishonor myself in being suspicious. I
was not naturally so, any more than
yourself. The feeling has grown upon
me through a hard experience. I know
you won't ask me why I suspect your
man there, so I will tell you. He tells a.
short story, to begin with. He never
looks you square in the face—I know
what you are thinking; Dickens said it
once, I believe; something about un-
blushing effrontery staring modest hon-
esty out of countenance, or words to
that effect; but it don‘t always work,
nor often. A man of the ordinary stamp
——not a scholar nor a diplomatist, mind
you—if he is honest, will look you
straight in the eyes when you question
him about his life. As to these others,
their minds are usually working at cross-
purposes with their words, and they are
apt to look through you, or over you, or
beyond you. If men are in the diplo-
matic- line they can command their
features to do what, they please, but in
the case of a man in the walk of life of
this one it is different. And my impres-
sion is that he has much to conceal, and
as to that he has a purpose in being here
at all. I should distrust him."
”You are more of a philosopher and
student of human nature than I expected
to find you, Mr. Hardy.”
It was now the latter’s turn to change,
color.
” I don’t know if you mean that sarcas-
tically, Mr. Lorimer.” He said, quietly,
after a moment; “But let that pass. I
was not always in my present position.
I have travelled much, and have seen
many men; very many above my present
position were once my associates. But
you don’t need to hear my biography;
and as to this man, I will give him a
chance, and we will test him, By-the-
way, how did you make his acquaint-
ance?”
“ I saw him‘ lounging about the hotel
in Panama, and one day he spoke to me;
said he understood I was going to Lima,
and to have something to do with mining,
and asked if I could give him any work.
I liked his looks, and after I had ques-
tioned him about as you did, and felt
satisfied—as you did not—I engaged him.
He was of great help to me in getting my
outfit.”
“Oh, I guess he knows his business.
How did he hear what yours was?”
“ I never asked him.”
“Did you talk much about it in
Panama? Excuse my asking you,
please.”
" At the time he spoke to me I don’t
think I- had mentioned it to any one in
Panama. On board ship I certainly did
not; and I was generally reticent, as
you would naturally expect. Our busi-
ness should not be talked about much—
at present." ' i
“ Exactly as I supposed, Mr. Lorimer,”
said Hardy, quickly. “ How do you
suppose this man got hold of it?”
“ Well, I am sure I can’t answer that.
Of course our bankers knew all about it.
But it never occurred to me; you know
those things seem to travel in the air.
For instance—"
“ Excuse me for interrupting you.
you know if you have any enemies?"
Lorimer started.
“ Why, what a question ! What has
that to do with Ben Day?"
“Never mind that; do you know?”
“ I don’t know that I have an enemy in
the world. My life has been a very
tranquil one. No, I don’t believe I
have.” >
“ That will do,” said Hardy. “ I hope
you will pardon what may seem to be
impertinent curiosity; but I have a
reason for it.” . .
He thrust his hand into an inner pocket
of his pea-jacket, and drethhcrefrom an
old and well—worn wallet, from one of
the compartments in which he extracted
an envelope, which he handed to Lori-
mer, saying, as he did so, “ Open it,
please, and examine the enclosure."
The other opened the envelope, which
bore no superscription, and took from
it a fragment of paper which it con-
Do
It appeared to be part of a letter, soiled
and rumpled. Lorimer read in-it the
following words, half obliterated, in
a. handwriting with which he was un-
familiar. ' , . A. ‘
“ Ralph Lorimer, {Ben Trovato ’ mine;
watch his movements, and the working
of the mine, and communicate with_.me
'by every mail. If you should acquire
important information, do - as .‘I ‘in-
structcd you, and leave at once for
Panama, whence you can telegraph, and
then return here.” ' ' ‘f-
In answer to Lorimer’s anxious 100k
of inquiry. Hardy said: “That piece of
paper dropped from your friendlsrpocket.
as he was busy unloading .one;,of::the _ ..
mules. I was alone when {picked itlupz- :
or I would’p‘robobly'hovo given it; toii
him ;_ as it I Was, I .ohoucod;~,§1_:o,.iobsopvk§gl‘
your name in it. and took tinge. liberty: Jute
._.
\.
, [To be continued.l l t *
§ . l,
That People Speak Well of
HOOD’S
Sarsaparilla
Mr. R. J. Brundage of Norwalk, Ct.,
of the firm of Buxton & Brunda e, ex-
pressmen, I 59 Main Street, writes is ex-
perience below:
“ For a long time I have been troubled with
a weak stomach, followed by
Indigestion and Dyspepsia
A short time ago I began taking Hood’s Sar-
saparilla and took three or four bottles. Re-
sult. I have not felt so well all over for years.
My food seldom troubles me now. My sister.
who was troubled about the same way as
myself, took Hood’s Sarsaparilla with very
pleasmg results. I do not wonder that pat-
rons all along the line speak so well of Hood’s
Sarsaparilla. Don‘t see how the can help
it.” R. J. Bnnanen. Norwalk, t.
it’ll“. I. H. Rose
ls well known in Rochester, N. Y., as head
of the firm of Rose 8; Eddy, wholesale and
retail dealers in general hardware and house
furnishing goods. at 137 East Main Street.
The statementof so prominent a man must
Command Attention
“I send this unsolicited as I feel to con-
gratulate myself that I used Hood’s Sarsapar
rilla. Six months ago my digestion was very
bad, and I had almost a case of
Chronic Dyspepsia
I was also broken down by over-work, so
that I could not sleep nights. My stomach is
now Iperfect, my nerves in excellent sha e,
and have gained 10 pounds in 6 montiis.
For all this benefit my gratitude is due Hood’s
Sarsaparilla. Accept my best wishes for
Hood’s Sarsaparilla
the best medicine in the land.” B. H. Ross,
of Rose 8: Eddy, Rochester, N. Y.
Hoop-s PILLS act easily, yet promptly and ,
oc‘mientlv on the liver and bowels. cure headache.
“ Seven-Day ” Matches.
lien about towu who always fill
their match cases from the hotel trays
often wonder why it is hotels never
furnish any but the aged sulphur,
“ seven-day ” matches.
“Why don’t we keep parlor
matches?” said Clerk Elliott of the
Grand Hotel the other day, in response
to a reporter’s question.
“I suppose I am asked that ques-
tion a dozen times a day. Go into
any hotel in the United States and
you will find none but the old "seven-
day ’ match. Well, the reason is this:
Wherever you scratch a parlor match
on the wall it leaves a brown mark.
The majority of hotel customers
thoughtlessly scratch matches on the
walls or furniture, and if we supplied
parlor matches our wall decorations
would soon be ruined. The old sul-
phur match, while it is slow and
throws off an offensive odor, does not
leave any mark after scratching.
Then there is more danger from fire
where parlor matches are used. They
ignite so quickly and burn with such
vigor that if thrown carelessly down
they are likely to make trouble. The
sulphur match makes a very small
flame and would hardly set a. carpet
on fire if thrown down burning.”—
Indianapolis News.
The Queen’s Photographs.
Her Majesty, the Queen, is supposed
to have the largest collection extant
of photographic portraits of notabili-
ties of her time, from the portraits of
kings, queens, emperors and , em-
presses downward. They begin in the
early dawn of the art of making sun-
pictures—in the days of those dag’uer—
reotypes on metallic surfaces which
generally required you to hold them
sideways before you could get a view
of their rather pale and feeble
traits. Hence they embrace the
whole history of the art and
are thoroughly representative of
the progress of photography. If
reproduction of all in some permanent
process be impossible a selection
- might be made which would be well
worth preserving for the information
of future generations. Unfortunately,
royal or otherwise, and many of the
most interesting must show signs of
fading. The collection would justify
the appointment of a royal photogra-
pher, one of whose duties it would be
to 'watch the collection, and copy
those'which are. considered worthy of
preservation before they fade—Pile
tographic News. , »
A Big and Rapid Star.
Dr. Elkin, formerly of the Cape of
Good Hope, but now, astronomer ,of
Yale University, has been engaged in
tions of the parallel of the mighty star
Arcturus. He has reached the con?
clusion that Arcturus is moving
with the almost inconceivable veloc-
ity of 381 miles a second, equivalent
to the distance between New York
and Chicago in less than three sec—
onds. The earth, in itsjourney around
the ’sun, makes the, fairly good
time of 1,500,000 miles a day, in round
figures, but the gigantic Arcturus
travels twenty times faster than the
earth..,' It ~_.would seem that, since Arc-
turus".is thousands of times Target
than-.pur-mun, the old, adage about
3.131- :‘bo‘di'os moving: : slowly iis' inot
wig , outex‘ceptionsé l-Tliejimo; of Arc-
;tugfigudhc fastest, semi-as we know,
j _ ‘ 53.31.30 celestial bodies.i”l‘_he near-
, ":‘p'p’ radon toilll wcs'mcd'e 'by'_ the.
y. 9111843, which whirled _‘.around
We, gin-perihelion, ’at‘ ‘tho‘_’;,'rato of
' p , ..- Hilfififlh'our- Arcturusfin
1&«333‘3‘159 gallfycar gait, beatsthe
'éoraéhla-timc per hour being 1,371,
time is no respecter of photographs,_ .
along and patient series of observa- ,
100" filléfiey'rbetroit Free? Press.
;----, . """f'f “’- .f‘:‘-"
The Latest ’ Styles of. '
Menu - Cards,
Dance Orders
can "Tickets, .
RECEPTION CARDS,
WINE ,_- LISTS.
Show Hangers,
\Nedding
Invitations,
Business Cards,
Visiting Bards
“rd—AT THE——
flail Gazelle-
flllte.
A‘
Church and.
A7 _. SPEGALTY
Norwalk Chronicler